"That word Hall misleads people," said Ralph. "It's a kind of upper-class farm-house with a lot of low rooms, and intricate passages, and chambers here and there, smelling of apples, and a huge kitchen, and an oven big enough for a small dinner-party."
"I should like the oven."
"And a laundry, and a dairy, and a cheese-house,—only we never make any cheese; and a horse-pond, and a dung-hill, and a cabbage-garden."
"Is that all you can say for your new purchase, Mr. Newton?"
"The house itself isn't ugly."
"Come;—that's better."
"And it might be made fairly comfortable, if there were any use in doing it."
"Of course there will be use."
"I don't know that there will," said Ralph. "Sometimes I think one thing, and sometimes another. One week I'm full of a scheme about a new garden and a conservatory, and a bow-window to the drawing-room; and then, the next week, I think that the two rooms I live in at present will be enough for me."
"Stick to the conservatory, Mr. Newton. But here are the girls, and I suppose it is about time for us to go."