Another great difficulty is the usual London landing half-way up-stairs, where sometimes a couple of chairs are put, on which no one ever sits, flanked by a table no one ever dusts or by a couple of palms everyone forgets to water. Here a really clear brain is required to cope with the difficulties; and I have had a sketch done by a friend of mine, who has made a perfectly charming corner out of this generally hideous spot, which I hope will speak for itself, and shows what can be made out of a similar landing with trouble and a good deal of really artistic feeling. In this same house the second door to the drawing-room, which is never used and only looks frightful to those who come up the stairs and see this door first of all, is turned into a cabinet, where various old-fashioned fans and curiosities
generally are kept, the sunken space between the wall and the door itself being amply deep enough for this purpose; and as all doors can be made to open into a room, the deep space can always be on the passage side, the flat side being in the room itself and hidden by a straight curtain, or, by a still simpler process, by taking off all the mouldings, handles, &c., and papering straight over the door, just as if it were a portion of the wall itself.
The simple over-doors, sold by so many furniture houses nowadays, should be placed over the doors, in most houses, in the hall, or else pictures should be hung there; and, indeed, one cannot have too many good pictures anywhere. If real paintings and excellent proof engravings are not to be afforded, do let me beg of my readers to indulge themselves in autotypes or photographs from really good pictures. These look specially well in a hall, and naturally do not serve as dust traps, as do far too many of the Japanese ornaments, fans, skins, and trophies of the chase, which are usually considered appropriate to this remarkably dusty and trying situation. Pictures can be dusted daily; other ornaments require more time and attention, though naturally one would rather have these than nothing, if one cannot afford pictures, in this spot, while the over-doors finish off the hall, and can have the five or six china ornaments, which look well and can be regularly dusted with a long feather brush and duly washed once a week when the hall is entirely turned out.
I most strongly advise the hall to be warmed in some way if it can possibly be managed, and I must own that I never can understand why houses are built year after year without this simple but most important convenience. One need not use a stove because one has it, but it should never be out of one’s power to thoroughly warm the house should one wish to do so, and I look forward to a day I have often spoken of, when women shall qualify as architects, and shall turn their hands entirely to domestic architecture. Until then I suppose we must go on grumbling and putting up with grateless halls, cupboardless houses, and rooms where no provision at all has been made for placing a bed or arranging furniture with common sense, to say nothing of artistic grouping, that of course is absolutely impossible in the ordinary square recessless house with which we are now so very liberally provided by the male architect!