“Under such circumstances he may,” said Mistress Nutter; “but you will find the contrary turn out to be the fact.  I will show you a plan I have had lately prepared, and you can then judge for yourself.”

While thus conversing, the party passed through a door in the high stone wall dividing the garden from the court, and proceeded towards the principal entrance of the mansion.  Built out of the ruins of the Abbey, which had served as a very convenient quarry for the construction of this edifice, as well as for Portfield, the house was large and irregular, planned chiefly with the view of embodying part of the old abbot’s lodging, and consisting of a wide front, with two wings, one of which looked into the court, and the other, comprehending the long gallery, into the garden.  The old north-east gate of the Abbey, with its lofty archway and embattled walls, served as an entrance to the great court-yard, and at its wicket ordinarily stood Ned Huddlestone, the porter, though he was absent on the present occasion, being occupied with the May-day festivities.  Immediately opposite the gateway sprang a flight of stone steps, with a double landing-place and a broad balustrade of the same material, on the lowest pillar of which was placed a large escutcheon sculptured with the arms of the family—­argent, a mullet sable—­with a rebus on the name—­an ash on a tun.  The great door to which these steps conducted stood wide open, and before it, on the upper landing-place, were collected Lady Assheton, Mistress Braddyll, Mistress Nicholas Assheton, and some other dames, laughing and conversing together.  Some long-eared spaniels, favourites of the lady of the house, were chasing each other up and down the steps, disturbing the slumbers of a couple of fine blood-hounds in the court-yard; or persecuting the proud peafowl that strutted about to display their gorgeous plumage to the spectators.

On seeing the party approach, Lady Assheton came down to meet them.

“You have been long absent,” she said to Dorothy; “but I suppose you have been exploring the ruins?”

“Yes, we have not left a hole or corner unvisited,” was the reply.

“That is right,” said Lady Assheton.  “I knew you would make a good guide, Dorothy.  Of course you have often seen the old conventual church before, Alizon?”

“I am ashamed to say I have not, your ladyship,” she replied.

“Indeed!” exclaimed Lady Assheton; “and yet you have lived all your life in the village?”

“Quite true, your ladyship,” answered Alizon; “but these ruins have been prohibited to me.”

“Not by us,” said Lady Assheton; “they are open to every one.”

“I was forbidden to visit them by my mother,” said Alizon.  And for the first time the word “mother” seemed strange to her.