I

March Square is not very far from Hyde Park Corner in London Town.
Behind the whir and rattle of the traffic it stands, spacious and cool
and very old, muffled by the little streets that guard it, happily
unconscious, you would suppose, that there were any in all the world so
unfortunate as to have less than five thousand a year for their support.
Perhaps a hundred years ago March Square might boast of such superior
ignorance, but fashions change, to prevent, it may be, our own too
easily irritated monotonies, and, for some time now, the Square has been
compelled, here, there, in one corner and another, to admit the invader.
It is true that the solemn, respectable grey house, No. 3, can boast
that it is the town residence of His Grace the Duke of Crole and his
beautiful young Duchess, née Miss Jane Tunster of New York City, but it
is also true that No. ---- is in the possession of Mr. Munty Ross of
Potted Shrimp fame, and there are Dr. Cruthen, the Misses Dent, Herbert
Hoskins and his wife, whose incomes are certainly nearer to £500 than
£5,000. Yes, rents and blue blood have come down in March Square; it is,
certainly, not the less interesting for that, but----

Some of the houses can boast the days of good Queen Anne for their
period. There is one, at the very corner where Somers Street turns off
towards the Park, that was built only yesterday, and has about it some
air of shame, a furtive embarrassment that it will lose very speedily.
There is no house that can claim beauty, and yet the Square, as a whole,
has a fine charm, something that age and colour, haphazard adventure,
space and quiet have all helped towards.

There is, perhaps, no square in London that clings so tenaciously to any
sign or symbol of old London that motor-cars and the increase of speed