about noon
He had left his apartment at daybreak long before his servant was up , with his knapsack , and a small portmanteau , into which he had thrust -- besides such additional articles of dress as he thought he might possibly require , and which his knapsack could not contain -- a few of his favourite books . Driving with these in a hack-cab to the Vauxhall station , he directed the portmanteau to be forwarded to Moleswich , and flinging the knapsack on his shoulders , walked slowly along the drowsy suburbs that stretched far into the landscape , before , breathing more freely , he found some evidences of rural culture on either side of the high road . It was not , however , till he had left the roofs and trees of pleasant Richmond far behind him that he began to feel he was out of reach of the metropolitan disquieting influences . Finding at a little inn , where he stopped to breakfast , that there was a path along fields , and in sight of the river , through which he could gain the place of his destination , he then quitted the high road , and traversing one of the loveliest districts in one of our loveliest counties , he reached Moleswich about noon . ON entering the main street of the pretty town , the name of Somers , in gilt capitals , was sufficiently conspicuous over the door of a very imposing shop . It boasted two plate-glass windows , at one of which were tastefully exhibited various articles of fine stationery , embroidery patterns , etc. ; at the other , no less tastefully , sundry specimens of ornamental basket-work . Kenelm crossed the threshold and recognized behind the counter -- fair as ever , but with an expression of face more staid , and a figure more rounded and matron-like -- his old friend Jessie .