05-11-2021, 08:31 PM
The two-story farmhouse stood bleakly against even bleaker moorland on one side, and cultivated, but still bare farmland on the other side. To add to its unwelcoming appearance, its walls were made of coarse grey stones and its windows small. Only the cherry trees on either side of the entrance seemed to welcome the stranger with their kind white bloom. Behind the house, larger, mostly wooden buildings could be seen, centred around a court which was mostly hidden from view by the forbidding old house.
A young blonde girl wearing a green cotton dress and a white apron opened the door. “Can I help ye ma’m?... Are ye t’ wetnurse?” She sounded almost desperate. Her eyes moved down to Iris’s dress and the tighter sections, before she caught herself and looked back up.
There was no entrance hall. Instead, the large main room of the house could be seen over the girl’s shoulder. There was a dining table and chairs, as well as a seating area by the fire, suggesting that there was no separate drawing room and dining room, but that most of the living happened in this one space, the staircase at the far end of the room doubtlessly leading up to the private rooms, and the one other door to the kitchen. Most of the furniture was simple, the only trace of elegance being the upright piano - and that was banished to a far corner. In an armchair by the fire sat a hardy woman with a sleeping new-born against her chest. She stretched her neck to see who was at the door.
A young blonde girl wearing a green cotton dress and a white apron opened the door. “Can I help ye ma’m?... Are ye t’ wetnurse?” She sounded almost desperate. Her eyes moved down to Iris’s dress and the tighter sections, before she caught herself and looked back up.
There was no entrance hall. Instead, the large main room of the house could be seen over the girl’s shoulder. There was a dining table and chairs, as well as a seating area by the fire, suggesting that there was no separate drawing room and dining room, but that most of the living happened in this one space, the staircase at the far end of the room doubtlessly leading up to the private rooms, and the one other door to the kitchen. Most of the furniture was simple, the only trace of elegance being the upright piano - and that was banished to a far corner. In an armchair by the fire sat a hardy woman with a sleeping new-born against her chest. She stretched her neck to see who was at the door.