a while, when Dolly
would let her, she opened the door into another apartment. A great door
of carved oak it was, through which Dolly went expectantly, and then
stood still with a little cry. The first thing she saw was the great
windows, down to the floor, all along one side of a large room, through
which a view was given into the park landscape. The grand trees, the
beautiful green turf, the sunlight and shadow, caught her eye for a
minute; and then it came back to the view within the windows. Opposite
this row of windows was an enormous marble chimney-piece; the family
arms, which Dolly was getting to know, blazoned upon it in brilliant
colours. Right and left of the fireplace hung old family portraits. But
when Dolly turned next to give a look at the side of the hall from
which she had entered, she found that the whole wall was of a piece
with the great carved door; it was filled with carvings, figures in
high relief, very richly executed. For a long while Dolly studied these
figures. Mrs. Jersey could give her little help in understanding them,
but having, as she fancied, got hold of a clue, Dolly pursued it;
admiring the life and expression in the figures, and the richly-carved
accessories. The whole hall was a study to her. On the further side
went up the staircases leading to the next story. Between them opened
the entrance into the dining-hall.

Further than these three halls, Mrs. Jersey almost despaired of getting
Dolly that day. In the dining-hall was a portrait of Queen Elizabeth;
and before it Dolly sat down, and studied it.

"Did she look like that?" she said finally.

"Surely, she must," said the housekeeper. "The picture is thought a
deal of. It was painted by a famous painter, I've been told."

"She was very ugly, then!" said Dolly.

"Handsome is that handsome does," said the housekeeper, smiling; "and,
to be sure, I never could make out that Her Majesty was altogether
handsome in her doings; though perhaps that's the fault of my
stupidity."

"She looks cold," said Dolly; "she looks cruel."

"I'm afraid, by all I have read of her, she was a little of both."

"And how she is dressed!--Who is that, the next to her?"

"Mary Stuart; Mary, Queen of Scotland; this lady's rival."

"Rival?" said Dolly. "No, I do not think she was; only Elizabeth chose
to think her so. How lovely, how lovely!"

"Yes, and by all accounts the portrait tells truth. They say, so she
was to be sure."

"She looks so in