Twelve vintage Rolls Royces lined up in front of the hall; that will be something to see tomorrow. They have been trying to visit us for two years, as part of a three day tour of the area. Their passengers are Georgian architecture enthusiasts, so right up my street. Some are architects or historians, and I’ve found in the past they sometimes spot things about the house which I have missed.
Fifty strong, they are too many for a guided tour, so we’ll invite them to go wherever the doors are open. I’ll do an introduction in the Great Hall, and we’ll have tea and cake on offer there throughout. Then we’ll spread ourselves through the rooms, Jacqueline in the kitchen, Richard in the library, Caroline in the Peacock Room and me in the dining room. If they don’t get lost, some two hours later they’ll climb back in the limousines and head off to Melbourne Hall.
With three generations of the family living here the hall is less ‘stately’ and more ‘home.’ But surely that’s as it should be; without a family these places become museums, frozen in time. I’d have liked to include the three grandchildren in the welcoming party, but they’re at school and wont be home in time. No matter, the evidence of there existence is plentiful, right through the house.