Alfred, Lord Tennyson, once rented this house and apparently Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
came to stay here. The stained glass windows look a bit Burne Jones-ish.
But, gosh, it rained and rained and the wisteria drooped
and the lawn became a sponge
and the rabbit did his best to blend in with the gravel.
The roses looked a bit battered
but none of the above deterred the English women walking dogs
-- wearing jackets and boots (June 13th ha!)
Inside the house was serene.