Perhaps the most tiresome thing in the orthodox hall is the ordinary long staircase window; but this can be improved at very small cost if a little artistic talent is brought to bear upon it. If it can be afforded in any way the window can be made beautiful by filling it in with cathedral glass in leaded squares, and about three or four really good medallions in stained glass could be hung about. These can be procured from Mr. Pither, 38 Mortimer Street, Regent Street, W. A wide shelf should be placed at the bottom of the window, and china could be arranged there. On the landing could be placed a tall grandfather clock, in such a way that the face faces the hall, and, if there is room, a big palm in a stand adds much to the effect. This would obviate any necessity for draperies, always rather difficult to keep clean in this exalted situation. If this arrangement is too expensive, a wooden arch should be placed round the top of the window, and the woodwork should taper down each side to the bottom of the window (illustrated in Fig. 3), and a soft silk drapery should be caught up on one side. This is confined by a cord, passed over a nail, which can be loosened by releasing the cord; the curtain then falls over the windows, and either obscures the sunshine or the darkness, according to whether it is lowered at night or day, although I should personally prefer to leave it draped and to hang a lamp up in the arch, which could be lighted at night. Plants or china could be arranged along the ledge, and make a charming picture out of what is usually an intensely ugly spot. Another great difficulty is the usual London landing half-way up-stairs, where sometimes a couple of chairs are put, on which no one ever sits, flanked by a table no one ever dusts or by a couple of palms everyone forgets to water. Here a really clear brain is required to cope with the difficulties; and I have had a sketch done by a friend of mine, who has made a perfectly charming corner out of this generally hideous spot, which I hope will speak for itself, and shows what can be made out of a similar landing with trouble and a good deal of really artistic feeling. In this same house the second door to the drawing-room, which is never used and only looks frightful to those who come up the stairs and see this door first of all, is turned into a cabinet, where various old-fashioned fans and curiosities [Illustration: FIG. 3.--Staircase Window.] [Illustration: FIG. 4.--A London Landing.] generally are kept, the sunken space between the wall and the door itself being amply deep enough for this purpose; and as all doors can be made to open into a room, the deep space can always be on the passage side, the flat side being in the room itself and hidden by a straight curtain, or, by a still simpler process, by taking off all the mouldings, handles, &c., and papering straight over the door, just as if it were a portion of the wall itself.