n leaf and blossom, that it seemed like
a private drive through some highly-cultivated estate; and, finally, we
reached the cottage. It stood on the side of an ascent; it commanded a
noble view of the Herefordshire hills and the valley of the Wye; and
there could be no doubt that it was the identical spot that the doctors
had seen in their dreams, when they described the sort of dwelling we
were to choose. I wish I were a half-pay captain, with a wife and three
children, a taste for gardening, and a poney-carriage. I wish I were a
Benedict in the honeymoon. I wish I were a retired merchant, with a good
sum at the bank, and a predilection for farming pursuits. I wish I were
a landscape painter, with a moderate fortune, realized by English art. I
wish--but there is no use of wishing for any thing about the cottage,
except that Mr Chaloner may furnish it at once, and let us be its tenant
for two or three months.

Mrs Chaloner, on our return to the Baskerville Arms, was gratified at
our estimate of the surpassing beauties of the house. She would send her
husband to us at the Hay the moment he returned; and, in the midst of
"gay dreams, by pleasing fancy bred," we returned to our barrack, and
created universal jubilee by the prospect we unfolded.

In a sort of delirium of good nature, we waited patiently till the
soldiers had had all the attentions of the household again. We had
almost a sense of enjoyment in all the discomforts we experienced. The
doors that would not shut--the waiters that would not come--all things
shone of the brightest rose-colour, seen through the anticipation of ten
or twelve weeks' residence in the paradise we had seen.

Late at night Mr Chaloner was announced. He had heard the whole story
from his worthy half; was in hopes he should be able to meet our wishes,
but must consult his chief. If _he_ agreed, he would see us before ten
next morning--if not, we were to consider that the furniture could not
be put in.

And again we were slightly in the dumps.

At half-past nine next morning we rang the bell, and ordered a carriage
to be at the door at ten. If we hear from Chaloner, we shall drive at
once to the Baskerville Arms; if not, there is no use of house-hunting
in such an inhospitable region any more; let us get back to our friend
at Abergavenny. If there is no house near _it_, let us go back to
Chepstow; if we are disappointed there, let us go home, and tell the
doctor we have changed the air