Field by field the estate
of old Mr. Williams had been sold to the speculative builder, and had
borne rich crops of snug suburban dwellings, arranged in curving
crescents and tree-lined avenues. The father had passed away before his
cottage was entirely bricked round, but his two daughters, to whom the
property had descended, lived to see the last vestige of country taken
from them. For years they had clung to the one field which faced their
windows, and it was only after much argument and many heartburnings,
that they had at last consented that it should share the fate of the
others. A broad road was driven through their quiet domain, the quarter
was re-named "The Wilderness," and three square, staring, uncompromising
villas began to sprout up on the other side. With sore hearts, the two
shy little old maids watched their steady progress, and speculated as to
what fashion of neighbors chance would bring into the little nook which
had always been their own.
And at last they were all three finished. Wooden balconies and
overhanging eaves had been added to them, so that, in the language of
the advertisement, there were vacant three eligible Swiss-built villas,
with sixteen rooms, no basement, electric bells, hot and cold water, and
every modern convenience, including a common tennis lawn, to be let at
L100 a year, or L1,500 purchase.
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