half-timbered Gothic style of the late
revival, apparently only a few years old. Surprised at finding himself
so near, Christopher's heart fluttered unmanageably till he had taken an
abstract view of his position, and, in impatience at his want of nerve,
adopted a sombre train of reasoning to convince himself that, far from
indulgence in the passion of love bringing bliss, it was a folly, leading
to grief and disquiet--certainly one which would do him no good. Cooled
down by this, he stepped into the drive and went up to the house.

'Is Mrs. Petherwin at home?' he said modestly.

'Who did you say, sir?'

He repeated the name.

'Don't know the person.'

'The lady may be a visitor--I call on business.'

'She is not visiting in this house, sir.'

'Is not this Arrowthorne Lodge?'

'Certainly not.'

'Then where is Arrowthorne Lodge, please?'

'Well, it is nearly a mile from here. Under the trees by the high-road.
If you go across by that footpath it will bring you out quicker than by
following the bend of the drive.'

Christopher wondered how he could have managed to get into the wrong
park; but, setting it down to his ignorance of the difference between oak
and elm, he immediately retraced his steps, passing across the park
again, through the gate at the end of the drive, and into the turnpike
road. No other gate, park, or country seat of any description was within
view.

'Can you tell me the way to Arrowthorne Lodge?' he inquired of the first
person he met, who was a little girl.

'You are just coming away from it, sir,' said she. 'I'll show you; I am
going that way.'

They walked along together. Getting abreast the entrance of the park he
had just emerged from, the child said, 'There it is, sir; I live there
too.'

Christopher, with a dazed countenance, looked towards a cottage which
stood nestling in the shrubbery and ivy like a mushroom among grass. 'Is
that Arrowthorne Lodge?' he repeated.

'Yes, and if you go up the drive, you come to Arrowthorne House.'

'Arrowthorne Lodge--where Mrs. Petherwin lives, I mean.'

'Yes. She lives there along wi' mother and we. But she don't want
anybody to know it, sir, cause she's celebrate, and 'twouldn't do at
all.'

Christopher said no more, and the little girl became interested in the
products of the bank and ditch by the wayside. He left her, pushed open
the heavy gate, and tapped at the Lodge door.

The latch was lifted. 'Does Mrs. Petherwin