It lay on his right, a little way back from the road, and surrounded by a large churchyard.
Almost opposite, on the other side of the road, but much further back, was a handsome modern white house; its delightful gardens sloping almost to the river.

This was the residence of the Rector, Dr.Ashton, a wealthy man and a church dignitary, prebendary and sub-dean of Garchester Cathedral.

Percival Elster looked at it yearningly, if haply he might see there the face of one he loved well; but the blinds were drawn, and the inmates were no doubt steeped in repose.
"If she only knew I was here!" he fondly aspirated.
On again a few steps, and a slight turn in the road brought him to a small red-brick house on the same side as the church, with green shutters attached to its lower windows.

It lay in the midst of a garden well stocked with vegetables, fruit, and the more ordinary and brighter garden-flowers.

A straight path led to the well-kept house-door, its paint fresh and green, and its brass-plate as bright as rubbing could make it.