The Thursleys lived only a little way off, at the other end of Harley
Street, in another large, spacious, old-fashioned, luxurious house,
where a great deal of money was spent without very much show for it, and
the best dinners, wines, beds, and conveniences of all sorts, that could
be had for money, were to be found. The difference between the two
houses was not very great--not nearly so great as might be found between
two houses in Mayfair or Belgravia (though, thanks to Liberty, and
Burnet, and a few other æsthetic tradespeople, the difference between
even the most artistic houses is much less than formerly). But the
merchant style has a kind of distinction of its own. Both the Burtons
and the Thursleys had large furniture, big side-boards, chiffoniers,
sofas on which a family could have been put to bed, tables of a
substantial size, easy-chairs which would comfortably engulf the largest
mercantile gentleman. The houses had a certain masculine air altogether,
as if the head of the establishment had ordered everything without
consideration of any such ephemeral matter as a woman’s tastes--which
indeed was what had been done. They had given the order to their
upholsterers largely, strongly, with no sparing of expense. The new
improvements that had crept in since, had been in the way of
spring-mattresses instead of the old economy of feather-beds, which was
an improvement that did not show; but otherwise the old Turkey carpets,
the heavy curtains, the big pieces of furniture, had not been changed,
at least in fashion, for thirty years. There was one difference,
however, between the Burton house and that of the Thursleys. The former
centred in the library, which was a sign that there were no ladies in
the house--the latter in the drawing-room; and it was there that
Gervase, entering about an hour later, found his Madeline, who had
opened one of the big windows, though it was a cold evening, in order
that she might hear his step. He had already seen her since his return
this morning; but it had been agreed between them, that though it was
his duty to dine with his father, he might afterwards come in for an
hour’s talk and consultation with the lady of his love.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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