Edward Frederic Benson

Visible and Invisible Edward Frederic Benson

THERE is not in all London a quieter spot, or one, apparently, more withdrawn from the heat andbustle of life than Newsome Terrace. It is a cul-de-sac, for at the upper end the roadway between itstwo lines of square, compact little residences is brought to an end by a high brick wall, while at thelower end, the only access to it is through Newsome Square, that small discreet oblong of Georgianhouses, a relic of the time when Kensington was a suburban village sundered from the metropolis bya stretch of pastures stretching to the river. Both square and terrace are most inconveniently situatedfor those whose ideal environment includes a rank of taxicabs immediately opposite their door, aspate of 'buses roaring down the street, and a procession of underground trains, accessible by astation a few yards away, shaking and rattling the cutlery and silver on their dining tables. Inconsequence Newsome Terrace had come, two years ago, to be inhabited by leisurely and retiredfolk or by those who wished to pursue their work in quiet and tranquillity. Children with hoops andscooters are phenomena rarely encountered in the Terrace and dogs are equally uncommon.