ental piece of water fed by
springs from the rich meadow-land beyond. This terrace and the
exquisitely-kept garden gave the house a stateliness of aspect, which it
would have lost if severed from its surroundings; but the General was
proud of every stick and stone about the place, and could never be
brought to see that its beauty existed chiefly in his own fond
imagination.

Whether Beechfield Hall was beautiful or not, however, mattered little
to the county squires and their families, to whom it had been for many
years a centre of life and gaiety. The General and his brother were
hunting-men; they had a capital stud, and were always ready to give
their friends a mount in the hunting season. They preserved strictly,
and could offer good shooting and good fishing to their neighbors; and
they were liberal of such offers--they were generous and hospitable in
every sense of the word. Mrs. Sydney Vane was of a similar disposition.
Her dances, her dinners, her garden-parties, were said to be the most
enjoyable in the county. She was young and pretty, vivacious and
agreeable, as fond of society as her husband and her brother-in-law,
always ready to fill her house with guests, to make up a party or
organise a pic-nic, adored by all young people in the neighborhood, the
chosen friend and confidante of half the older ones. And now the
innocent mirth and cordial hospitality of Beechfield Hall had come to
an untimely end. Poor Sydney Vane was laid to rest in the little green
churchyard behind the woodland slope which fronted the terrace and the
lawn. His wife, prostrated by the shock of his death, had never left her
room since the news of it was brought to her; his brother, the genial
and warm-hearted General, looked for the first time like a feeble old
man, and seemed almost beside himself. Even little Enid was pale and
frightened, and had lost her inclination for mirth and laughter. The
servants moved about in their sombre mourning garments with grave faces
and hushed, awe-stricken ways. It seemed almost incredible that so great
a misfortune should have fallen upon the house, that its brightness
should be quenched so utterly.

As soon as the misfortune that had befallen the Vanes was made known,
the General's maiden-sister descended from London upon the house, and
took possession, but not in any imperious or domineering way. Miss
Leonora Vane was far too shrewd and too kindly a woman to be aught but
helpful and sympathetic at s