He started as if I had given him a shock.
“Gladys Gardens!” he exclaimed—“Lord love you! Why, Gladys Gardens is going down every year! It’s gone down since my time—I used to live there—I was there when the murder was committed!”
This was rather an unpleasant light to throw on Gladys Gardens, and its desirability seemed at once on the wane.
“What murder?” I asked.
“Oh, well, it was some time ago,” he said, now appearing benevolently anxious not to cause me unnecessary alarm—“But it was a shocking murder!—and Gladys Gardens has gone down ever since. You’d much better live here than there!”
With which parting recommendation he bowed me out urbanely, having done his utmost best, at all risks, for his employer’s advantage.
Of the number of babies born in “desirable mansions” and “Noble Residences” it would be hopeless to attempt any calculation. The comfortable quarters enjoyed by “care-takers,” coupled with good pay, make them, as a rule, unwilling to move when once installed, and reluctant to praise the qualities of the house they inhabit, lest they should be forced to vacate for an actual paying tenant. So that if they are very cosy, and have made a family home and birthplace of some warm and roomy basement in De Vere Gardens or Kensington Gate or other fashionable neighbourhoods, and you want to take the house that serves them so well as lodging, you may be sure you will hear something doubtful about the drainage, the water, or the waste-pipes, or the “closeness” or the “darkness,”—something to scare you off, in fact, and enable them to stay where they are in peace, and leave you out in the cold. This plan of action is so obviously natural, that it is very strange lessees of houses do not perceive it. Many houses in London have been occupied by “care-takers” for three or four years, never seeming to have any chance of letting—and considering what a loss of money this means to the actual owners, surely the question of “care-taking” deserves some consideration. Of course, the fabulous rents asked for mere boxes and barns of accommodation in good centres is one great reason for the non-letting of houses, as also the prevailing preference for “flats,”—but the “care-takers” have their share in the obstruction, and so have the house-agents. So, also, has the system of demanding “premiums”—a system which is positively nefarious. Recently a friend of mine was asked two thousand guineas premium for a house whose rental was £180 per annum. He was a big, broad-shouldered American, and took matters coolly.
“What do you want a premium for?” he demanded.
“For the improvements—the position,—the last owner spent a great deal on the place.”
“He did, did he? Well, where’s he gone to now?”