The lodge-door was like a common garden-door; on one side of it were great closed gates for the ingress and egress of lorries and wagons. The lodge-keeper admitted them into a great oblong yard, on one side of which were offices for the transaction of business; on the opposite, an immense many-windowed mill, whence proceeded the continual clank of machinery and the long groaning roar of the steam-engine, enough to deafen those who lived within the enclosure. Opposite to the wall, along which the street ran, on one of the narrow sides of the oblong, was a handsome stone-coped house,--blackened, to be sure, by the smoke, but with paint, windows, and steps kept scrupulously clean. It was evidently a house which had been built some fifty or sixty years. The stone facings--the long, narrow windows, and the number of them--the flights of steps up to the front door, ascending from either side, and guarded by railing--all witnessed to its age. Margaret only wondered why people who could afford to live in so good a house, and keep it in such perfect order, did not prefer a much smaller dwelling in the country, or even some suburb; not in the continual whirl and din of the factory. Her unaccustomed ears could hardly catch her father's voice, as they stood on the steps awaiting the opening of the door. The yard, too, with the great doors in the dead wall as a boundary, was but a dismal look-out for the sitting-rooms of the house--as Margaret found when they had mounted the old-fashioned stairs, and been ushered into the drawing-room, the three windows of which went over the front door and the room on the right-hand side of the entrance. There was no one in the drawing-room. It seemed as though no one had been in it since the day when the furniture was bagged up with as much care as if the house was to be overwhelmed with lava, and discovered a thousand years hence. 
Beside the lodge-door were great closed gates for the ingress and egress of lorries and wagons. The lodge-keeper admitted them into a large oblong yard; on one side of it were offices, and on the other, an immense many-windowed mill, from which came the continual clank of machinery and the long groaning roar of the steam-engine, enough to deafen those who lived nearby.
Opposite the street was a handsome stone-coped house - blackened by smoke, to be sure, but with paint, windows and steps kept scrupulously clean. It appeared to have been built some fifty or sixty years before, with the stone facings and long, narrow windows of that time. Margaret wondered why people who could afford to live in so good a house did not prefer a dwelling in the country, or even some suburb; not in the continual whirl and din of the factory. She could hardly hear her father's voice, as they stood on the steps awaiting the opening of the door. The yard, too, made but a dismal view for the windows - as Margaret found when they had mounted the old-fashioned stairs, and been ushered into the drawing-room.
There was no one there. The room seemed uninhabited. 