Helen looked eagerly out of the carriage-window for the first view of
Clarendon Park. It satisfied--it surpassed her expectations. It was a fine,
aristocratic place:--ancestral trees, and a vast expanse of park; herds of
deer, yellow and dark, or spotted, their heads appearing in the distance
just above the fern, or grazing near, startled as the carriage passed.
Through the long approach, she caught various views of the house, partly
gothic, partly of modern architecture; it seemed of great extent and
magnificence.

All delightful so far; but now for her own reception. Her breath grew quick
and quicker as she came near and nearer to the house. Some one was standing
on the steps. Was it General Clarendon? No; only a servant. The
carriage stopped, more servants appeared, and as Helen got out, a very
sublime-looking personage informed her, that "Lady Cecilia and the General
were out riding--only in the park--would be in immediately."

And as she crossed the great hall, the same sublime person informed her
that there would be still an hour before dinner-time, and inquired whether
she would be pleased to be shown to her own apartment, or to the library?
Helen felt chilled and disappointed, because this was not exactly the way
she had expected things would be upon her arrival. She had pictured to
herself Cecilia running to meet her in the hall.

Without answering the groom of the chambers, she asked, "Is Lady Davenant
out too?"

"No; her ladyship is in the library."