Of all things lovely and full of fascination in Sally's little narrow world, everything in and about Ingleside stood far and away the highest in her eyes.

It was her delight, her admiration, her dream by day and her dream by night. Ingleside! With its wide-spreading mansion, its far-reaching plantation that was, after all, but a short run for an agile child from Slipside Row.

Had Sally known the meaning of such a word as "romance," which is a sweet and wonderful story, or happening, or dream, she would have known that the chief bewitchment of her life sprang from the dear romance that to her fancy was all about fair Ingleside.

Because, from the time that she had been brought to Slipside Row, when a bright little child of eight years, with a keen imagination and great love for all that was tasteful and beautiful, it had become the greatest charm she had ever known to race, whenever she could, through Lover's Lane and Shady Path, to some part of Ingleside.

Now, when it is told that the great house, the immense garden, the fields, stables, cabins, store-sheds, and far-reaching plantation of Ingleside formed the mansion and estate of one Colonial "place," you will understand that it was the home of a Southern planter.

For Maid Sally lived more than a hundred years ago, and in truth nearly half as long again. And Slipside Row was in the smiling South, on the border of Williamsburg, a town of the colony of Virginia. And the seat of government for all the colonies of America was at Williamsburg in those days. But there were few large towns anywhere in the country then.

It was common at that time for a man to own so large a place that it had a name of its own, and was a settlement of itself. Sir Percival Grandison, the master of Ingleside, had come from England, and as he wanted his place to remind him of the old country, he called it Ingleside. For in the sweet Scotch tongue, "ingleside" means "fireside," or ingle may mean fireplace, or chimney-corner; so you see it gave a home feeling to the place, calling it "Ingleside."

There was a large garden before the house, so wide and deep that quite a walk it was up the path of pebbles from the gate to the house. Here were great flower-beds, bordered around with thick green box, or with fragrant little pinks, or, perhaps, with tufts of white sweet alyssum. And here were all kinds, also, of rich, old-fashioned blooms: roses of damask, moss roses, the flush multiflora, and china rose; blush roses, wee Scotch roses, and the sweet white garden rose; great peonies, pink and red, sweet-william, marigolds, phlox, both pink and white, bachelor's-buttons, columbine, oleanders, large white magnolia blossoms, cockscomb, prim and fine, poppies, asters, portulacas, prince's-feather, snowballs, dahlias, and lilies of many kinds.

Dear, dear! how could one ever begin to tell of the loveliness and perfume of just one old-time garden, mignonette, fuchsias, heliotrope, and geraniums sending out their strong, delightful tints and fragrance with the rest?

Farther along, striped grass, mints, herbs and balsams made the air heavy with spicy odors when the dew was on the grass.

The mansion was built on the generous, old-time plan. There were high porches at the front, with white, fluted pillars, an enormous front door, with a fan-window over the top, and side-lights of high, narrow panes of glass. On the stoep, or stoop, were benches at the side, painted white, where one might sit out in the cool of the day.

Inside, immense fireplaces told of good cheer on chilly nights, when a bright wood fire made the big knobs on the burnished andirons, or "fire-dogs," seem as if alive with glancing light. Great sofas, wide, high-backed and deep, covered with tapestry or brocades, lace hangings, wide chairs, ottomans, antimacassars, or tidies, footstools, high-backed chairs, with seats wrought in worsted work, pier-glasses, reaching almost from floor to ceiling, pictures, a piano, something quite new then, a carpet, another new luxury, also a spinet, a kind of piano of wiry sound, a violin, and lute, all were in the ample drawing-room.

In the hall were portraits, some very old, and swords, ancient bows and arrows, and a few old battle scenes adorned the walls. The newels, or posts, at the foot of the banisters, bore great carved figures of sea-serpents and griffins, strange animals, part lion, part eagle.

The dining-room had always fresh white sand upon the floor, had also heavy carved furniture, and against the walls were pictures of hunting scenes, and many a pictured feast or revel.

Up-stairs were great square rooms with painted floor and home-made mats in abundance. Bedsteads, with high posts and "testers," or canopies overhead. Furniture, covered with chintz, looked fresh and fine, while bedspreads, valances, or side-flounces for the beds, tester, curtains, dressing-table, and mirror, all were made, bordered, or trimmed, with brightly flowered chintz.

The spare room, or "parlor-chamber," was delightfully cool and pure looking, decked out in white dimity, stiff with starch, and full of an air of grandeur.

The cook-room of the house was at the rear of the mansion, apart from it, and the different dishes were carried through a covered passage. Afar down the grounds were the stables, back of them the quarters of the black servants, and still beyond, the wide plantation or tobacco fields.

At one side of the garden, midst lawn and shrubbery, was a stone wall bounding one part of the grounds, and close to this wall was a little summer-house, or arbor, where the young people liked to stray of an evening, and enjoy the cool, sweet breezes of the fair Southland.

Just outside this high, bordering wall, was a thick hedge nearly as high as the wall itself, and with but the merest space between. And here it was, between wall and hedge, that Sally, poor, half-neglected little Maid Sally, was wild to cut over from Slipside Row and hide herself.

Because, ah! because she had found out that young Lionel Grandison, son of Sir Percival and Lady Gabrielle Grandison, was in the habit of roving over to the arbor after supper with his books, and supposing himself alone, would often read aloud.

But now, his cousin, the Lady Rosamond Earlscourt, was spending the summer at Ingleside, and Lionel, sixteen, tall, straight, and manly in his boyish beauty, was reading aloud evenings to his fair cousin Rosamond and his sister, Lucretia Grandison, a Fairy story.

He had read later than usual the night before, and, ah! it was almost as if a Fairy had lifted her lightsome wand and granted some great boon when Mistress Cory Ann said to Sally that after supper she could go where she liked, and work would be over for the day.That would give her time in which to do a bit of prinking, even such as pulling out her tangled locks and putting her poor little dress as straight as she could, then to run over to Ingleside at about the time that supper would be over there, and Lionel would begin his delightful reading.

No wonder Sally squeezed her own spare little sides with delight, as she realized that now unless it rained she could fly night after night to her enchanted grounds, and hear the clear voice of young Lionel Grandison reading the beautiful Fairy tale.

Yes, it was of a truth like a piece of Fairy luck that had come into the child's lonely life.