It was the footage of Princess Diana as a young girl, prancing about in the garden in slow motion as a childish, tinkling piano soundtrack played in the background, that made everyone stop and stare.
Stepping inside this darkened 260-year-old stable block on the Althorp Estate, which formed the first part of the Diana exhibition opened to the public yesterday, it took a few seconds for our eyes to grow accustomed to the subdued lighting.
Then, on the far wall of the first stable block, celebrating the childhood of Diana, Princess of Wales, she flickered and danced across the old cine screen and looked - as any child should - as if she hadn't a care in the world.
The images were filmed by her father, Earl Spencer, we were told. For all the trappings of wealth surrounding her, she seemed once again within our reach.
Such was the power of the images of Diana as a child, just as those when she became public property, that the groups of men and women who were the first to visit Althorp simply stood and watched as the short film was played over and over again.
Watching the living Diana pirouetting, diving into a swimming pool, taking her turn on a children's slide, posing in an outsize furry coat, she seemed for one brief moment alive. But that was not why we were here.
Outside the west gate of the Althorp Estate, the public had arrived 2 1/2 hours earlier for the opening at 10 a.m.
Clutching their small posies of freesias and large bouquets of white lilies, just as they had done almost a year ago when they placed them outside the gates of Kensington Palace in London, they didn't seem to mind the cold weather or the cameras flashing in their faces as they queued in the drizzle.
They held their blue-and-silver embossed invitations tightly, while some were shown to the cameras as proof that the day had finally arrived when the public would get to see Diana as her family wanted us to: a woman whose place was at home, despite the jet-setting lifestyle that she had enjoyed.
For those with an obsessive interest in Diana's life and death, the Althorp exhibition surpasses all expectations. For the more than 2,000 who arrived on the first day the chance to see Diana's wedding dress, with its taffeta and silk ruffles and 26-foot train, was a treat worth waiting for.
It is mounted on a white plaster mannequin alongside those familiar photographs of her at St Paul's Cathedral in 1981. Most people didn't bother to read the plaque with the wedding date; they just wanted to look and remember the image they had seen on television.
Diana's brother, Earl Spencer, collected the memorabilia of her life from her former home in Kensington Palace. Among the items are brief glimpses of her relationship with Prince Charles.
A Christmas card from 1980, the year before their marriage, is signed by the prince with the words: "Much love from your tap-dancing partner, Charles."
Of course there is no reference to the difficult times: the divorce, the struggle with bulimia and the unhappiness of royal life are not mentioned. Diana's life was a happy round of devotion to her sons, to her charity work and her love of fashion, and there is no room for public displays of bitterness at Althorp.
After the wedding dress and the tiny red-and-gold uniform she wore at boarding school, Diana becomes the international campaigner. Across three television screens, film of her work in bringing the plight of landmine victims to public attention, and her speeches on homelessness, play in the darkened room dedicated to the final stage of her life.
But it is the next room, with its images of her funeral, which plays on the raw emotions. There is a heavy scent of roses in the air from petals strewn on the floor. The stream of visitors paused only long enough for a quick look and were gone.
There has been much criticism of Earl Spencer's promotion of the exhibition and of his donating only 10 per cent of the £9.50 admission charge to the Diana Memorial Fund. But apart from a few complaints, most visitors thought the price was reasonable.
"Of course it's not expensive. He has to pay for this somehow," said one man who had travelled from Gloucestershire.
A couple from Tennessee agreed: "We just adored Diana and would have paid anything to come here and see her home and her final resting place."
In the end that is what they had all come to see.
The fabulous displays of Diana's clothes - from the big-shouldered dresses of the 1980s to the sexy, Versace numbers in the confident post-divorce years, the books of condolences from around the world, even the handwritten notes to her family, were not enough. Everyone wanted to see her "final resting place".
A curving gravel path leading from Althorp House through an arboretum brought us to the island where Diana is buried. The peaceful setting is a welcome change from the flashing images of Diana back at the exhibition.
It is here that the visitors take the chance to sit quietly or lay their flowers at the Doric temple dedicated to her on the far side of the lake.
Sitting on wooden benches, or standing in small groups, they fix their stare on the island and remain silent.
With its honey-coloured walls and stout columns, the temple looked imposing. Just as at Kensington Palace in the days after her death last August, the visitors came with their flowers and handwritten notes: "Diana, may your candle burn forever", and "Queen of Hearts".
Above them, on the wall of the temple, a black and white silhouette of Diana looked down. Her own words are inscribed beside it: "Nothing brings me more happiness than trying to help the most vulnerable people in society. It is a goal and an essential part of my life. A kind of destiny. Whoever is in distress can call on me. I will come running wherever they are."
Earl Spencer's final tribute came from his emotive funeral speech, etched into the walls of the temple: "The unique, the complex, the extraordinary and irreplaceable Diana, whose beauty both internal and external will never be gone from our minds."
One man explains: "I didn't get the chance to go to London for her funeral and I just wanted to come here to pay my respects. I'm glad it's peaceful and quiet because it's just like visiting the grave of someone in our family.
"We loved her and we wanted to come here to see her grave and the dresses, it's as simple as that."
A Bavarian businessman who has trademarked the name "Lady Di" yesterday threatened to sue Earl Spencer over the commercial exploitation of the memory of Princess Diana. Mr Andre Engelhardt (34) claims that the earl is damaging the commercial potential of Diana's name by turning Althorp into a theme park.
"This is grave robbing of the first order. They are creating `Dianaland' there and not serving the interests of those who want to express their grief," he said.
Last night a spokeswoman for Earl Spencer dismissed the claims as nonsense and said: "There is certainly nothing tasteless about any of the merchandise being sold at the museum. None of it bears Diana's face, name or image. It is all just inspired by her."