The square garden too, with its smoke-dried trees and faded lawn, was at her disposal, in which she might walk, or work, or read.
No cares or responsibilities were imposed upon her.

The domestic affairs were superintended by a stern housekeeper, who bore a quaint resemblance to Girdlestone himself in petticoats, and who arranged every detail of housekeeping.

The young girl had apparently only to exist and to be happy.
Yet the latter item was not so easy as it might seem.

It was not a congenial atmosphere.

Her whole society consisted of the stern, unemotional merchant and his vulgar, occasionally brutal, son.
At first, while the memory of her father was still fresh, she felt her new surroundings acutely, contrasting, as they did, with her happy Fulham home.