of London.

In their magnificence the reception rooms excelled even this hall,
boasting, as they did, a heterogeneous collection of rare antiques, of
valuable relics, and of _articles de virtu_ from practically the world
over. Everywhere they lay in strange confusion--on the mantelpieces,
tops of cupboards, on shelves, angle brackets, and on almost every
table. Here was a delicate lute of jade, used by Chinese lovers of a
thousand years ago. There stood silver lamps, carved most marvellously
and once trimmed by vestal virgins, lamps from the temples of
Herculaneum, of Rome and of Pompeii. Shadowy gods and goddesses,
dragons, fetishes of more or less hideous mien, glared everywhere at one
another in a manner most unpleasant. Porcelains; wonderful
blue-patterned plates from Pekin; willow-patterned dishes from Japan;
ancient hammered beer tankards from Bavaria and the Rhine; long-stemmed
Venetian glasses of iridescent hues, were scattered everywhere in
bewildering profusion. In an ante-room was a priceless crucifix in three
different woods, from Ober-Ammergau; on the mantelpieces of three of the
reception rooms were old French gilt clocks--the kind found nowadays
only in secluded and old inns of the Bohemian Quartier Latin, inns
which the tourist never sees, and where "collectors" are to all intents
unknown. Set upon this landing of polished oak upon the first floor was
a very ancient sundial, taken from some French chateau, a truly
beautiful _objet d'art_ in azure and faded gold, with foliated crest
above, borne long ago, no doubt, by some highly pompous dignitary. Here
and there, too, were suits of armour of beaten steel--glittering
figures, rigid and erect and marvellously inlaid with several different
metals. Two rooms of the building, I was told by a guest with whom I had
entered into conversation, were set aside entirely as an armoury.