For more than a fortnight did we daily set forth on this voyage of discovery. One day we started with a card to view "a delightful Cottage Ornee, situated four miles from Weybridge;" this time the rent was still higher than any we had previously seen. When we arrived at the village in which the house was represented to be, we asked for "Heathfield House," and were told that no one knew of any residence bearing that name; we were a little perplexed, and consulted the card of admittance to see whether we had brought the wrong one—but no; there it was, "Heathfield House," four miles from Weybridge, surrounded by its own grounds of four acres, tastefully laid out in lawn, flower and kitchen-gardens, &c, &c. Rent only $350. We began to imagine that we were the victims of some hoax, and were just on the point of telling the driver to return to the station, when a dirty-looking man came to the carriage, and said, "Are you looking for Heathfield House?"
"Yes," said we.
"Well, I'll show it to you."
"Is it far?" we asked; as no sign of a decent habitation was to be seen near us.
"No; just over the way," was the answer.
We looked in the direction he indicated, and saw a "brick carcase: standing on a bare, heath piece of ground, without enclosure of any kind.
"That!" cried we; "it is impossible that can be the place we came to see!"
"Have you got a card from Mr.—?" was the query addressed to us.
"Yes," was the reply.
"Very well; then if you will get out I'll show it to you."