front, containing two large windows, and a porch projecting between
them. The hall reached to the top of the house, and had a waggon
ceiling, with mastiffs alternating with roses on portcullises at the
intersections of the timbers. This was the family sitting and dining
room, and had a huge chimney never devoid of a wood fire. One end
had a buttery-hatch communicating with the kitchen and offices; at
the other was a small room, sacred to the master of the house, niched
under the broad staircase that led to the upper rooms, which opened
on a gallery running round three sides of the hall.

Outside, on the southern side of the house, was a garden of potherbs,
with the green walks edged by a few bright flowers for beau-pots and
posies. This had stone walls separating it from the paddock, which
sloped down to the river, and was a good deal broken by ivy-covered
rocks. Adjoining the stables were farm buildings and barns, for
there were several fields for tillage along the river-side, and the
mill and two more farms were the property of the Bridgefield squire,
so that the inheritance was a very fair one, wedged in, as it were,
between the river and the great Chase of Sheffield, up whose stately
avenue the riding party looked as they crossed the bridge, Richard
having become more silent than ever as he came among the familiar
rocks and trees of his boyhood, and knew he should not meet that
hearty welcome from his brother which had never hitherto failed to
greet his return. The house had that strange air of forlornness
which seems to proclaim sorrow within. The great court doors stood
open, and a big, rough deer-hound, at the sound of the approaching
hoofs, rose slowly up, and began a series of long, deep-mouthed
barks, with pauses between, sounding like a knell. One or two men
and maids ran out at the sound, and as the travellers rode up to the
horse-block, an old gray-bearded serving-man came stumbling forth