There is a kitchen belonging to it somewhere among the weeds in the back yard, and besides this room where the ladies are, there is, directly behind it, a sleeping apartment.

Somewhere back of this there is a little nook where in pleasant weather they eat.

Their cook and housemaid is the plain person who attends them on the street.
Her bedchamber is the kitchen and her bed the floor.

The house's only other protector is a hound, the aim of whose life is to get thrust out of the ladies' apartments every fifteen minutes.
Yet if you hastily picture to yourself a forlorn-looking establishment, you will be moving straight away from the fact.

Neatness, order, excellence, are prevalent qualities in all the details of the main house's inward garniture.