The driveway stretches from the south to north in the near distance, emerging from the ash tree woods surrounding the country lane. The leaves are shades of gold and brown of the sort that catches the early morning and late evening autumnal light, spears of sunlight dazling the eye. The lane itself is earth the grey old old bones, packed down over the years to a surface harder than steel. The driveway is newer, perhaps only a few hundred years old, gravel covered and crunching under foot, sweeping widely up to the front of the house as it sits on top of the hill. In front of the main door to the house there is a small island in the gravel with grass and bare flower beds, so cars and coaches in earlier times can drive around it and turn easily.
The house itself is a mock tudor affair, emenating an air or waiting, plotting and planning. In the middle of the front is a large portico leading in to the Entrance Hall, a huge old metal bell pull is set into the stone of the doorway.