could make up his mind to buy the lease of it. For a year or two he tried
taking furnished houses alternately in the country and in town. Being a
cautious man, he wanted to give both a good trial, but his wife finally
made up his mind for him. She took no end of trouble in decorating and
furnishing their house in some antique style. At first Baxendale seemed
to be pleased. Every now and then he told men at the club how clever she
was at picking up bargains; but after a time he got gloomy when one asked
how the house was getting on. He said he had met a man who had made a
collection of antiques, and when he wanted to sell them he found they
were all shams, and it nearly ruined him.

After it was all finished the Baxendales gave a house-warming party.
Peter Knott said afterwards that Baxendale took him aside and confided to
him that he wasn't at all pleased with the house. It faced west instead
of south, and the drawing-room was so large one could never buy enough
furniture to put in it, whereas his smoking-room was a rotten little hole
you couldn't swing a cat in. Besides, it really was a mistake living in
town; the country was much better for the health and less expensive on
the whole, even if you had shooting and entertained a good deal. He had
a great mind to sell the lease if he could get a good offer. Then he
would have a flat just to run up to when he wanted to stay in town for a
week at a time and do the theatres.

The Baxendales have no children, and apparently no nephews, nieces, nor
other youthful belongings in whom they take any special interest. One day
Peter Knott met Baxendale playing golf with a young man whom he
introduced to him as his nephew, Dick Barnard, but the youth did not
reappear on any other occasion, and Peter remembers that Baxendale told
him in confidence that the boy put on side and was cheeky.