But the windows are a legitimate field for the exercise of original taste - not only the frames and sashes, which may be regarded as distinct from the panels or shutters - but even those broad white panes which we dare not always get rid of even when we have begun to dislike them, and to realise that there is absolutely no 'view'. If you have not the surplus daylight to be able to venture upon heavy, deep-tinted Titianesque subjects, the plain broad panes of plate-glass may be simply, and as scantily as you please, outlined in yellow, brown, or any colour, in slight subjects which are better than nothing, and which would not interfere with the rare impulse to look out of the window. People indeed do not look out of windows greatly in London, the reason being obvious; but, at any rate, with windows so slightly decorated we could afford a passing glance, however busy within, at Enid riding before her lord - or Autumn scattering the leaves of Summer - or simple blades of grass and butterflies dancing on the vacant pane; and when we hurried perchance to the window to follow the motive of some casual street fray, or to watch a funeral procession, or a drove of sickly cattle, or to satisfy impatient curiosity as to what visitor is on the doorstep, or what cats are on the leads, or whatever induces people to look out of the window in London - these slender outlines of Enid, or Autumn, or grass blades would not shut out one spicy detail in the external world.

This mode of decoration would, I think, have the additional merit of being inconspicuous enough not to tire the eye by perpetually attracting it; and the upper part of the window might be left untouched if preferred so as to show the whole sky, if any be visible, from the position of the house.

This would also offer a pleasing employment to idle young ladies at home, who could trace a pretty device in opaque enamel from a transparent pattern pasted outside the pane, whether they have much idea of drawing or not, and it would be better than making cardboard mats or gumming gold-paper around photographs.

Whether done at home or by a glass decorator, the mode is simple enough, as I described with full details in the 'Queen' of January 31, 1880. The design is simply traced in outline with a thick enamel paint which lies on common window glass perfectly well, and it may be as simple or as elaborate as is wished.

When the paper pattern outside the window is removed, the effect is really very pretty of these transparent and slight pictures, just sufficient to obliterate a bad look-out without really obliterating a good one. It can be washed with care, whenever the windows require cleaning, and can be entirely removed by turpentine. Outlines in scarlet, or in brown and amber tints, are very effective for this purpose; and if wished the outlines can of course be filled in with transparent flat colour for a richer effect.

Glass screens, by Powell or Cottier, are a commoner way of making a blind without disusing the plain glass which belongs to one's lease. These add considerably to the weight of the sash, but most difficulties can be obviated by a little ingenuity.