Belinda, silent and tense, looked out the window as the carriage entered a tree-lined drive, which went on for at least a mile. On both sides of the narrow road pushed the encroaching dark forest with trees that rose high above and with only the occasional chirping of birds or cicadas and the crunch of the wheels as the only sounds. Berrington looked out one window while Belinda looked out the other. And when the trees began to thin out and the carriage started an ascent, Belinda realized that Winterhill actually stood on the slope of a hill in the middle of a small, secluded valley. The house, gray and ancient, extended imposingly with two vast wings from a half circle of Grecian columns on a vast terrace.Berrington did not point out anything about it and Belinda did not comment on it, for even if she had had the temerity to utter a word on his property she felt he might interpret it as triumph or satisfaction.And when they reached the terrace Belinda saw the enormous front door thrown wide open and a small group of people coming out to greet them.The group consisted of Flora, whom Belinda already knew, Mrs.
