When they arrived at their destination carriages were found to be in waiting to take the party to Hazeldean, the residence of Mr. Wellington, who was to entertain the company for the ensuing week.

A drive of a mile brought them to the fine estate, where an imposing mansion stood in the middle of a beautiful park.  The interior of the dwelling was in perfect keeping with its exterior—­luxury and beauty prevailed on every hand, and it was really an ideal place in which to entertain a numerous company.

The wide, mammoth hall ran the whole length of the house, while numerous rooms opened into it, with wide doors sliding upward, so that almost the whole of the lower floor could be made into one grand room.  The floors were of hard wood, and polished to the last degree of brightness, and were, as Kitty McKenzie merrily remarked, while she executed a gay pirouette on entering, “just capital for dancing.”

The upper stories were equally spacious, and luxuriously furnished—­it really seemed like a great hotel, only far more home-like and comfortable.

The guests were soon assigned to their apartments, and Mona was gratified to find that, instead of being consigned to some remote corner of the great house, she had a cozy room opening directly into the one occupied by Mrs. Montague.

CHAPTER XV.

A GAY COMPANY AT HAZELDEAN.

The week that followed was one never to be forgotten.  Such feasting and merry-making, such excursions, and card parties, and dancing parties Mona had never witnessed.

She had read of such scenes occurring in the great manor-houses of England, and had often thought that she should like to witness something of the kind; but she did not imagine that Americans had yet attained the art of displaying such magnificent hospitality.  It was a carnival, indeed, from the evening of their arrival until the morning of their departure.

It was the month of February, there was no snow on the ground, and the weather was very mild and more like early spring, than winter, so that every morning there was planned an excursion of some kind—­either a drive or a canter on horseback to different points of interest in that picturesque section, which everybody appeared to enjoy as well as if all nature had been at the height of its glory in midsummer.

Mona, of course, was never invited to join these excursions; she was regarded as nothing but a seamstress or a maid, and most of the company would have scorned the idea of thus associating with her upon equal terms.

Her heart often swelled with bitter pain as she watched a gay cavalcade ride away through the park, for she dearly loved horseback riding, and she well knew that six months previous she would have been most cordially welcomed by every member of that merry company.