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The beautiful decorous life was moving on slowly at Stanmere. There were no signs of poverty or anxiety there now; the trim lawns and flowers, the perfectly appointed gardens spoke of wealth. To the outsider with a sense of order and beauty it seemed impossible for trouble to touch Stanmere. Even the sleek servants seemed to be beyond the laws of sorrow.
But to the mistress of it all life was dull and monotonous. Like Lady Deadlock, life had no charm for her. Unlike Lady Dedlock, she loved her home and was never bored there. But it was a house of shadows all the same, a houseful of painful associations. It was here in this room that Stephen had defied his father, and by that door that he had quitted the house for ever, by the passage that Lord Stanmere had gone to his death. There was much to care for but nothing to love.