6
WYLDER'S HAJVD.
As I looked through the chaise-windows, every moment
presented some group, or outline, or homely object, for
years forgotten; and now, with a strange surprise how
vividly remembered, and how affectionately greeted! We
drove by the small parsonage at the left, with its double
gable and pretty grass garden, and trim yews and modern
lilacs and laburnums, backed by the grand timber of the
park.
The pretty mill-road, running up through Redman's
Dell, dank and dark with tall trees, was left behind in
another moment; and we were now traversing the homely
and antique street of the little town, with its queer shops
and solid steep-roofed residences. Up Church-street I
contrived a peep at the old grey tower where the chimes
hung; and as we turned the corner a glance at the " Bran-
don Arms." How very small and low that palatial hos-
telry of my earlier recollections had grown! There
were new faces at the door. It was only two-and-twenty
years ago, and then I was but eleven years old.
My journey was from London. When I had reached
my lodgings, after my little excursion up the Rhine, upon
my table there lay, among the rest, one letter which I
viewed with suspicion. I could not in the least tell why.
It was a broad-faced letter, of bluish complexion, and had
made inquisition after me in the country — had asked
for me at Queen's Folkstone; and, vised by my cousin,
had presented itself at the Friars, in Shropshire, and
thence proceeded by Sir Harry's direction (there was the
autograph) to Nolton Hall; thence again to Uchester,
whence my fiery and decisive old aunt sent it straight
back to my cousin, with a whisk of her pen which seemed
to say, "How the plague can I tell where the puppy is?
— 'tis your business, sir, not mine, to find him out!"
And so my cousin.despatched it to my head-quarters in