The Palace in the Garden

"Old house! that time hath deigned to spare, / 'Mid sunny slopes and gardens fair. " -- SIGOURNEY.

It all seemed like a dream the next morning. We slept much later than usual, for we were quite tired out. I can never even now think of that evening -- shut up in the dark in the big bare room -- without a sort of shudder. It really was dreadful: we were so cold that when we did fall asleep it was only to wake again with a start to find ourselves shivering and aching. And it was frightening, too: though we squeezed together as close as we could, we felt dreadfully alone. And alone we really were; for, as we understood afterwards, there was nobody at all in the Old House. The person who dusted it was the woman who lived at the lodge, and only came up in the mornings. Regina had taken her a little into her confidence. The day she hurried away when a bell rang, it was the woman ringing to let her know the Rectory pony-carriage was coming up the lane. Auntie knew that Regina came to the Old House, but she thought it was just to wander about the garden, and that day she had promised to call for her at the lodge. For the Old House belonged to auntie: it had belonged to the Mowbrays for a very, very great many years. And this brings me to the story of the long-ago troubles which we were told -- the story which explained everything which had puzzled us.