Labrador (N.L.) -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Love stories, English
The house she had to deal with was, like Mrs. Trafford's, old and rather
small; it was partly to its lack of bedroom accommodation, but much more
to the invasion of the street by the back premises of Messrs. Siddons &
Thrale, the great Chelsea outfitters, that the lowness of the rent was
due, a lowness which brought it within the means of Trafford. Marjorie
knew very clearly that her father would say her husband had taken her to
live in a noisy slum, and that made her all the keener to ensure that
every good point in the interior told to its utmost, and that whatever
was to be accessible to her family should glow with a refined but warm
prosperity. The room downstairs was shapely, and by ripping off the
papered canvas of the previous occupier, some very dilapidated but
admirably proportioned panelling was brought to light. The dining-room
and study door on the ground floor, by a happy accident, were of
mahogany, with really very beautiful brass furnishings; and the
dining-room window upon the minute but by no means offensive paved
garden behind, was curved and had a little shallow balcony of ironwork,
half covered by a devitalized but leafy grapevine. Moreover, the
previous occupier had equipped the place with electric light and a
bathroom of almost American splendour on the landing, glass-shelved,
white-tiled, and white painted, so that it was a delight to go into.
Marjorie's mind leapt very rapidly to the possibilities of this little
establishment. The panelling must be done and done well, anyhow; that
would be no more than a wise economy, seeing it might at any time help
them to re-let; it would be painted white, of course, and thus set the
key for a clean brightness of colour throughout. The furniture would
stand out against the softly shining white, and its line and
proportions must be therefore the primary qualities to consider as she
bought it. The study was much narrower than the dining-room, and so the
passage, which the agent called the hall, was much broader and more
commodious behind the happily wide staircase than in front, and she was
able to banish out of the sight of the chance visitor all that litter of
hat-stand and umbrella-stand, letters, boxes arriving and parcels to
post, which had always offended her eye at home. At home there had been
often the most unsightly things visible, one of Theo's awful caps, or
his school books, and not infrequently her father's well-worn and all
too fatally comfortable house slippers. A good effect at first is half
the victory of a well done house, and Marjorie accomplished another of
her real economies here by carpeting hall and staircase with a
fine-toned, rich-feeling and rather high-priced blue carpet, held down
by very thick brass stair-rods. She hung up four well-chosen steel
engravings, put a single Chippendale chair in the hall, and a dark old
Dutch clock that had turned out to be only five pounds when she had
expected the shopman to say eleven or twelve, on the half-landing. That
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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