Most of the furniture had been good of its kind at one time, but it was now all reduced to a drab level of shabbiness.

There were a few genuine antiques amongst it--a couple of camel-backed Chippendale chairs, a grandfather's clock, and some fine old bits of silver--which Sara's eye, accustomed to the rare and beautiful furnishings of Barrow Court, singled out at once from the olla podrida of incongruous modern stuff.

These alone had survived the general condition of disrepair; but, even so, the silver had a neglected appearance and stood badly in need of cleaning.
This latter criticism might have been leveled with equal justice at almost everything in the room, and Sara, mindful of her reception, reflected that in such an oddly conducted household, where the advent of an expected, and obviously much-needed, paying guest could be completely overlooked, it was hardly probable that smaller details of house-management would receive their meed of attention.
Instead of depressing her, however, the forlorn aspect of the room assisted to raise her spirits.

It looked as though there might very well be a niche in such a household that she could fill.

Mentally she proceeded to make a tour of the room, duster in hand, and she had just reached the point where, in imagination, she was about to place a great bowl of flowers in the middle desert of the table, when the elderly Abigail re-appeared and dumped a tea-tray down in front of her.
Sara made a wry face over the tea.