To walk upon the fine, smooth old Roman road was a pleasure in itself, but she soon struck away from it and went through lanes and by-ways, following sign-posts because she knew where she was going.

Her walk was to take her to Mount Dunstan and home again by another road.

In walking, an objective point forms an interest, and what she had heard of the estate from Rosalie was a vague reason for her caring to see it.

It was another place like Stornham, once dignified and nobly representative of fine things, now losing their meanings and values.

Values and meanings, other than mere signs of wealth and power, there had been.
Centuries ago strong creatures had planned and built it for such reasons as strength has for its planning and building.