“Where to now, maister?” inquired the driver, from his seat.
“To Anglewood Church, Anglewood Manor,” said Mr. Force.
CHAPTER XXXVI
ANGLEWOOD OLD CHURCH
Leaving the office of the Angleton Advertiser, and turning up the village street, they repassed the blacksmith’s, the general dealer’s, the doctor’s surgery, the lawyer’s office, the post office, the news agency, and finally the Angleton Arms—an ancient hostelry, built of stone, with strong walls, peaked roof, high chimney and low, broad, latticed windows—which stood as on guard at the entrance of the hamlet.
Leaving the place at this point, they entered the road leading to Anglewood Manor.
No pleasant, shady, grass-bordered country road was this, with vistas of woods and waters, fields and farms. It was a white and arid highway, running between gray stone walls, whose dread monotony was varied only by the occasional branch of a tree over their tops, or of an iron gate, or oaken door, in the sides.
“Whose property is this on the right and left of us?” inquired Mr. Force of the driver.
“Thet on t’ roight, maister, be Middlemoor, t’ seat o’ t’ Arl o’ Middlemoor. Thet on t’ left be Fell Hall, t’ seat o’ Squoire Ogden,” replied the man.
“What hateful roads!” exclaimed Wynnette. “I feel exactly as if we were driving on between a madhouse and a jail!”
They were slowly going uphill now, and presently came to a lane on the left, into which the carriage turned. Still on the left of the new way was the low stone wall, but behind and above it was a green hedge of Osage orange bushes, while opposite, on the right, was a lovely green hedge of all the variety of bushes and brambles that grow outdoors in that part of England.