It was a large house, standing well back from the broad highway that leads from Brenton to Pelham--so far back, indeed, and at the end of such a long, shady drive, that it could not be seen for some few minutes after turning in from the road. The approach was pretty, the avenue winding through the trees, with an occasional glimpse of the meadows beyond. The road forked where the trees ended, and encircled the lawn, or the "heater-piece," as the family called it, it being in the exact shape of a flat-iron. The house stood on high ground, and there were no trees very near.…
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