They take it and step out daintily - having dressed sensibly for the city, no long skirts to drag in the urban muck. Almost immediately, this prompts the appearance at the front door of a short, matronly blonde woman with slightly pointed ears and unusually bright eyes: half-elf, if Double was to guess. Children between Realmers and humans is very rare - in most cases, pregnancy simply doesn't occur, or last - but it does happen.

"Good afternoon, Your Grace," she chirps, bobbing a little curtsey.

Double smiles. "You must be our hostess. Miss...Spellman, was it?"

"Oh - yes, but please, call me Hilda. I'll have Ambrose bring in your luggage and take the coach around - please, follow me."

She guides them into the house, up a sweeping central staircase to the apartment that takes up the entirety of the first floor.