It stood upon a low hill, above the river,—the river being the
Thames, at some forty miles from London. A long gabled front of red
brick, with the complexion of which time and the weather had played
all sorts of picturesque tricks, only, however, to improve and refine
it, presented to the lawn, its patches of ivy, its clustered
chimneys, its windows smothered in creepers. The house had a name
and a history; the old gentleman taking his tea would have…… More »