Down an avenue of lime trees stands this characterful hotel in ‘magical grounds’, its apricot-washed facade a welcome sight to its legions of loyal fans. After the death of its spirited chatelaine, Imogen Skirving, Lila Arora, her granddaughter, now stands at the helm, supported by an ‘enthusiastic team’ of long-serving, ‘well-trained’ staff. ‘With the obvious exception, everything is exactly as before,’ says a Guide reader this year. ‘It is, as it always has been, like staying with friends in the country.’ Within the Georgian house, highly individual bedrooms and faintly eccentric public rooms (some with an air of England-by-way-of-India) are filled with fine paintings, antiques, ‘a relaxed atmosphere’. ‘Dinner continues to be reliable, from the Marmite popcorn onwards.’ A typical dish: ‘very good’ roast Belvoir pheasant, potato terrine, bread sauce croquette. Most striking, perhaps, is the spirit of generosity and openness – a reflection of its founder. ‘The first time money was mentioned during my stay was when I paid the bill the morning of my departure. What a refreshing change from those establishments that produce a chit to sign at every turn.’ (Nick Patton, Peter Jowitt)