with the
ducks on it? and there is a flock of geese. Now we have only to turn
down this road and there is The Grange." And as Miss Sefton pointed with
her whip, Bessie saw the outlines of a large red house between the
trees.

CHAPTER VIII.

AT THE GRANGE.

As Miss Sefton spoke the lane widened before them, and the hedgerows
gave place to a short avenue of elms, the sunlight filtering through the
thick interlaced branches, and throwing quivering shadows on the white
road below; a low white gate opened into a meadow where some cattle were
grazing, and on the right hand side was a large, straggling red house,
with picturesque stables half smothered in ivy. The hall door stood open
and a fine Scotch deerhound lay basking in the afternoon sun; he roused
himself lazily as the pony carriage stopped before the door, and as
Bessie alighted he came up to her wagging his tail slowly, and put his
long, slender nose into her hand.

"What a beautiful creature!" exclaimed Bessie, who was exceedingly fond
of all dumb animals. "Look how friendly he is, as though he were
welcoming me to The Grange."

Miss Sefton, who was patting the sleek sides of Jack and Jill, looked
round carelessly.

"Mac is a good old dog, but he is not always so amiable to strangers; he
has his likes and dislikes, as we humans have, only I must tell Richard
that he has taken to you--he is his property. Now let us go and find
mamma." And Edna locked her arm in Bessie's, and, followed closely by
the deerhound, led her into the house.

There was no servant in attendance; a strange hush and stillness seemed
to pervade the place. Bessie almost felt oppressed by it. The hall was
large and dark, with a smooth, slippery floor, and was panelled in dark
oak; oak settles and large carved antique cabinets were ranged round the
walls. The great fireplace was filled with green boughs, and a tiger
skin, with a huge grinning head and eyes, lay before it. The quiet
little country girl had never seen such a hall in her life.

"Take care; our oak floors are slippery to people who are unused to
them," observed Edna. "Mamma is in the drawing-room, I suppose." And she
opened the door and ushered her companion into a handsome room, with
three windows opening on to a lawn. A lady, who was sitting on a couch
reading, rose as she perceived the two girls, and crossed the room with
a slow, stately step.

"Mamma, I have brought Miss Lambert."

"I am very glad to see her,