Twenty miles over a narrow road winding among the hills brought us to Shottermill, where George Eliot spent much of her time after 1871—­a pleasant little hamlet clinging to a steep hillside.  The main street of the village runs up the hill from a clear little unbridged stream, over whose pebbly bottom our car dashed unimpeded, throwing a spray of water to either side.  At the hilltop, close to the church, is the old-fashioned, many-gabled cottage which George Eliot occupied as a tenant and where she composed her best known story, “Middlemarch.”  The cottage is still let from time to time, but the present tenant was away and the maid who answered us declined to show the cottage in her mistress’ absence—­a rather unusual exhibition of fidelity.  The village, the surrounding country, and the charming exterior of the cottage, with its ivy and climbing roses, were quite enough to repay us for coming though we were denied a glimpse of the interior.

Haselmere is only a mile distant—­a larger and unusually fine-looking town with a number of good hotels.  It is a center for tourists who come from London to the Hindhead District—­altogether one of the most frequented sections of England.  The country is wild and broken, but in late summer and autumn it is ablaze with yellow gorse and purple heather and the hills are covered with the graceful Scotch firs.  All about are places of more or less interest and a week could be spent in making excursions from Haselmere as a center.  This country attracted Tennyson, and here he built his country seat, which he called Aldworth.  George Eliot often visited him at this place.  The house is surrounded by a park and the poet here enjoyed a seclusion that he could not obtain in his Isle of Wight home.  Aldworth belongs to the present Lord Tennyson, son of the poet, who divides his time between it and Farringford in the Isle of Wight, and neither of the places are shown to visitors.  However, a really interested party might see the house or even live in it, for we saw in the window of a real estate man in Haselmere a large photograph of Aldworth, with a placard announcing that it was to be “let furnished”—­doubtless during the period of the year the owner passes at Farringford House.

[Illustration:  Arundel castle.]

Much as we wished to tarry in this vicinity, our time was so limited that we were compelled to hasten on.  It was nearly dark when we reached Arundel, whose castle, the residence of the Duke of Norfolk, was the stateliest private mansion we saw in England.  The old castle was almost dismantled by Cromwell’s troops, but nearly a hundred years ago restoration was begun by the then Duke of Norfolk.  It was carried out as nearly as possible along the lines of the old fortress, but much of the structure was rebuilt, so that it presents, as a whole, an air of newness.  The great park, one of the finest in England, is open to visitors, who may walk or drive about at will.  The road into the town leads through this park for many miles.  Bordered on both sides by ancient trees and winding between them in graceful curves, it was one of the most beautiful that we had seen anywhere.