It was something less than an hour's drive from Arden to Hale: the
village-church clock and a great clock in the Castle stables were both
striking twelve as the carriage drove under a massive stone arch, above
which the portcullis still hung grimly. It was something like going into
a prison, Clarissa thought; but she had scarcely time for the reflection,
when the carriage swept round a curve in the smooth gravel road, and she
saw the sunny western front of the Castle, glorious in all its brightness
of summer flowers, and with a tall fountain leaping and sparkling up
towards the blue sky.
She gave a little cry of rapture at sight of so much brightness and beauty,
coming upon her all at once with a glad surprise. There were no human
creatures visible; only the glory of fountain and flowers. It might have
been the palace of the Sleeping Beauty, deep in the heart of the woodlands,
for any evidence to the contrary, perceptible to Clarissa in this drowsy
noontide; but presently, as the carriage drove up to the hall door, a
dog barked, and then a sumptuous lackey appeared, and anon another, who,
between them, took Miss Lovel's travelling-bag and parasol, prior to
escorting her to some apartment, leaving the heavier luggage to meaner
hands.
"The saloon, or my lady's own room, miss?" one of the grandiose creatures
demanded languidly.
"I would rather see Lady Laura alone at first, if you please.
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