Our house overlooked the dwelling of the chief magistrate. It was a
white building in the style of a palace, the walls of which were covered
in summer-time with roses and clematis, and to my eyes it was the finest
and most imposing house in the world.
It was surrounded by park-like grounds with trim lawns and tall trees.
An iron railing with gilded spikes divided it from the common world.
Sometimes when the gate was standing open I peeped inside. It seemed as
though the house came nearer and nearer to me. I caught a glimpse in
the basement of white-capped serving-maids, which seemed to me the
height of elegance. It was said that the yellow curtains on the ground
floor were pure silk. As to the upstairs rooms, the shutters were
generally closed. These apartments had not been opened since the death
of Herr von Brincken's wife. He rarely entertained.
Sometimes while I was watching the house, Herr von Brincken would come
riding home accompanied by a groom. He always bowed to me, and
occasionally spoke a few words.
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