" says Mr. Holt, "and this is the pillar thereof,
learned Doctor Tusher. Take off your hat, sirrah, and salute Dr.
Tusher!"

"Come up to supper, Doctor," says my lord; at which the Doctor made
another low bow, and the party moved on towards a grand house that
was before them, with many gray towers and vanes on them, and windows
flaming in the sunshine; and a great army of rooks, wheeling over their
heads, made for the woods behind the house, as Harry saw; and Mr. Holt
told him that they lived at Castlewood too.

They came to the house, and passed under an arch into a court-yard, with
a fountain in the centre, where many men came and held my lord's stirrup
as he descended, and paid great respect to Mr. Holt likewise. And the
child thought that the servants looked at him curiously, and smiled to
one another--and he recalled what Blaise had said to him when they were
in London, and Harry had spoken about his godpapa, when the Frenchman
said, "Parbleu, one sees well that my lord is your godfather;"
words whereof the poor lad did not know the meaning then, though he
apprehended the truth in a very short time afterwards, and learned it,
and thought of it with no small feeling of shame.

Taking Harry by the hand as soon as they were both descended from their
horses, Mr. Holt led him across the court, and under a low door to rooms
on a level with the ground; one of which Father Holt said was to be
the boy's chamber, the other on the other side of the passage being the
Father's own; and as soon as the little man's face was washed, and the
Father's own dress arranged, Harry's guide took him once more to the
door by which my lord had entered the hall, and up a stair, and through
an ante-room to my lady's drawing-room--an apartment than which Harry
thought he had never seen anything more grand--no, not in the Tower
of London which he had just visited. Indeed, the chamber was richly
ornamented in the manner of Queen Elizabeth's time, with great stained
windows at either end, and hangings of tapestry, which the sun shining
through the colored glass painted of a thousand lines; and here in
state, by the fire, sat a lady to whom the priest took up Harry, who was
indeed amazed by her appearance.

My Lady Viscountess's face was daubed with white and red up to the eyes,
to which the paint gave an unearthly glare: she had a tower of lace on
her head, under which was a bush of black curls--borrowed curls--so that
no wonder little Harry