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On April 6th, I went to the Waterloo station, and there meeting Bennoch and Dr. , took the rail for Woking, where we found Mr. Hall's carriage waiting to convey us to Addlestone, about five miles off. On arriving we found that Mr. and Mrs. Hall had not yet returned from church. Their place is an exceedingly pretty one, and arranged in very good taste.
The unsuccessful partnership of my aunts was dissolved. Mrs. Mrs. Mrs. Whitelock betook herself to a really rural life in a cottage in the beautiful neighborhood of Addlestone, in Surrey, where she lived in much simple content, bequeathing her small mansion and estate, at her death, to my mother, who passed there the last two years of her life and died there.
My imagination became belligerent, and defeated the invaders in a dozen striking ways; something of my schoolboy dreams of battle and heroism came back. It hardly seemed a fair fight to me at that time. They seemed very helpless in that pit of theirs. About three o'clock there began the thud of a gun at measured intervals from Chertsey or Addlestone.
In a lane leading from the station at Addlestone is a massive oak, which, if the gossips of the neighbourhood be trustworthy, has seen some notable sights. It is said that under its far-reaching branches "Wycliffe has preached and Queen Elizabeth dined." Here one summer evening I first heard Mr. Spurgeon preach.
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