Phil!

"We must show you all round the old place to-morrow," said her husband, rising as he spoke. "But if we are going to dine to-night we ought to begin to think about dressing. Dinner is at a quarter to eight. We keep old-fashioned hours in these parts."

"Come along," said Marion, taking her friend's arm as they moved towards the wide staircase.

"What a lovely house, Marion!" exclaimed Philippa, turning to survey the hall in which they had been sitting.

This apartment had formed part of the original house built in Tudor times, and had remained unaltered, untouched, save for the hand of Time, which had darkened the oak panelling and the beams of the high timbered roof, in the dim recesses of which hung tattered banners--spots of colour in the gloom overhead.

Above the huge stone fireplace, which was large enough to have roasted the historic ox of mediaeval festivities, hung a portrait of the royal lady whose visit had given the house its name--Queen Elizabeth, represented in her famous gown, embroidered with eyes and ears--seeing all, hearing all!

Marion laughed as she pointed to it. "It is all very well to say that Good Queen Bess could never have visited half the places or slept in half the rooms which boast of her occupation, but she really did stay here. I'll show you her room to-morrow, and tell you all about it. I don't think you would care to sleep in her bed, although you may if you like. I wouldn't for worlds. It is too much like a catafalque. Now, here you are arrived at last."