An American girl in London . at it had one or two solemn little black balconies that lookedas if nobody ever sat in them running across the face of it, anda tall, shallow poi*ch, with two or three extremely white stonesteps before the front door. Half-Moon Street, to me, lookedlike a family of houses—a family differing in heights andcomplexions and the colour of its hair, but sharing all thecharacteristics of a family—of an old family. A person draws agreat many conclusions from the outside of a house, and myconclusion from the outside of my relations house was that si ecouldnt be very well of
An American girl in London . at it had one or two solemn little black balconies that lookedas if nobody ever sat in them running across the face of it, anda tall, shallow poi*ch, with two or three extremely white stonesteps before the front door. Half-Moon Street, to me, lookedlike a family of houses—a family differing in heights andcomplexions and the colour of its hair, but sharing all thecharacteristics of a family—of an old family. A person draws agreat many conclusions from the outside of a house, and myconclusion from the outside of my relations house was that si ecouldnt be very well off to be obliged to live in such a plainand gloomy locality, with Tradesmen on the ground-floor;and I hoped they were not any noisy kind of tradesmen, suchas shoemakers or carpenters, who would disturb her early inthe morning. The clean-scrubbed stone steps reflected veryfavourably, I thought, upon Mrs. Portheris, and gave thehouse, in spite of its grimy, old-fashioned, cramped appearance. 34 AN AM ERIC A A GIRL IN LONDON. FROM THE OUTSIDE I DIDNT THINK MUCH OF MRS. POETHEKISS HOUSE AN AMERICAN GIRL IN LONDON 35 a look of respectability which redeemed it. But I did not seeat any window, behind the spotty evergreens, the sweet, sadface of my relation, though there were a hand-organ and amonkey and a German band all operating within twenty yardsof the house. I rang the bell. The door opened a great deal morequickly than you might imagine from the time I am taking totell about it, and I was confronted by my first surprise inLondon. It was a man—a neat, smooth, pale, round-facedman in livery, rather fat and very sad. It was also interior. This was very dark and very quiet, butwhat light there was fell richly, through a square, stained-glass window at the end of the hall, upon the red and blue ofsome old china above a door, and a collection of Indian spears,and a twisting old oak staircase that glowed with colour. exterior had prepared me for somet
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