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Updated: May 28, 2025
'Dear me! said Christopher to himself, 'not far from Melchester; and not dreadfully far from Sandbourne. Summer was just over when Christopher Julian found himself rattling along in the train to Sandbourne on some trifling business appertaining to his late father's affairs, which would afford him an excuse for calling at Arrowthorne about the song of hers that he wished to produce.
'Ah, yes; thank you, said Christopher. The footman handed him one of some cards which appeared to have been left for the purpose. Julian, though tremblingly anxious to know where Ethelberta was, did not look at it till he could take a cool survey in private. The address was 'Arrowthorne Lodge, Upper Wessex.
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?
Christopher in his walk overtook a countryman, and inquired if the path they were following would lead him to Arrowthorne Lodge. ''Twill take 'ee into Arr'thorne Park, the man replied. 'But you won't come anigh the Lodge, unless you bear round to the left as might be. 'Mrs. Petherwin lives there, I believe? 'No, sir. Leastwise unless she's but lately come. I have never heard of such a woman.
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, supposing the estate to be such a verbal hallucination as, for instance, hers had been at Arrowthorne, when her poor, unprogressive, hopelessly impracticable Christopher came there to visit her, and was so wonderfully undeceived about her social standing: what a fiasco, and what a cuckoo-cry would his utterances about marriage seem then.
Christopher had often told her of his expectations from 'Arrowthorne Lodge, and of the blunders that had resulted in consequence.
'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.
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