Of the same type as the last is the doorway at No. 33 Mark Lane, London (Fig. 254), but it is far more elaborate, and served as the entrance to one of the fine private houses which lined Mark Lane, but which now are utilised as offices, if by chance they have escaped the wholesale demolition and rebuilding which expanding commerce entails. Another good example is to be seen in Buckingham Street, Strand (Fig. 258). Of later date is the double porch at Norwich (Fig. 256), which is simple and dignified, and will so remain as long as the two occupants are of the same mind as to the colour it should be painted. It will be noticed that in all these examples the doorway is the only feature of interest; the surrounding work is quite plain. At the Stationers’ Hall, in London (Fig. 259), we get a still later treatment, dating from the year 1800, when Robert Mylne cased the building with stone. The iron standards were probably devised to carry lamps, which shed enough light to help incomers up the steps; but all things are relative, and doubtless, at the time, two oil lamps were considered a brilliant illumination. [Illustration: FIG. 259.--Doorway at Stationers’ Hall, London.] [Illustration: FIG. 260.--House at Yarmouth.] Here and there in old towns are to be found two-storied porches projecting from the face of a house like that at Yarmouth (Fig. 260), which is the central feature of a front rather more elaborately treated than usual. In this case the porch stands on its own ground, but occasionally porches were built over part of the pavement, and the public traffic passed through them. It would be impossible for a private owner to take such liberty in the present day, when plans have to be submitted to the local council; but in those far-off times men of influence did many things which nobody was bold enough to stop; and while heartily agreeing that private interests must be subordinated to public, we may, perhaps, indulge in feelings of secret gratification that among our ancestors individuality had more play than is possible in these well ordered times. Another picturesque but, strictly speaking, intolerable effort at design is to be seen at The Martins, Chipping Campden (Fig. 261). The great truncated corner pilaster, the porch with its cornice running into the window, can be defended on no grounds save that there they are. But so imperfect is our nature that this bit of haphazard composition gives more pleasure than many a more correct attempt at design; a pleasure allied, perhaps, to that cynical satisfaction we experience in watching shortcomings in our friends from which we ourselves are free.