Consulting the posts as he advanced, Mr. Troy
arrived in due course of time at the villa called The Lawn, which
derived its name apparently from a circular patch of grass in front of
the house. The gate resisting his efforts to open it, he rang the bell.
Admitted by a trim, clean, shy little maid-servant, Mr. Troy looked
about him in amazement. Turn which way he might, he found himself
silently confronted by posted and painted instructions to visitors,
which forbade him to do this, and commanded him to do that, at every
step of his progress from the gate to the house. On the side of the lawn
a label informed him that he was not to walk on the grass. On the other
side a painted hand pointed along a boundary-wall to an inscription
which warned him to go that way if he had business in the kitchen. On
the gravel walk at the foot of the housesteps words, neatly traced in
little white shells, reminded him not to "forget the scraper". On the
doorstep he was informed, in letters of lead, that he was "Welcome!"
On the mat in the passage bristly black words burst on his attention,
commanding him to "wipe his shoes." Even the hat-stand in the hall was
not allowed to speak for itself; it had "Hats and Cloaks" inscribed on
it, and it issued its directions imperatively in the matter of your wet
umbrella--"Put it here!"
Giving the trim little servant his card, Mr. Troy was introduced to a
reception-room on the lower floor. Before he had time to look round him
the door was opened again from without, and Isabel stole into the room
on tiptoe.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89