It's definitely from the era when Victorian architecture was coming fully into vogue, at least. Seems the classic haunted aesthetic. Not a newer take on an old fashion - this house has weight. It's stood here a long time.
The grounds are protected by a still intact iron fence, hedges grown over and through it, brambles with wicked thorns warning off all but the most stubborn teenagers on dares. Ellie can get through it, though. Killing plants is pretty basic. Past that - overgrown, again, roses tumbling across the yard like spilled beads from a greenhouse off to the house's right, the glass in it shattered. Other flowers have taken root and grown wild, but the roses - they're the showiest. Dark, moody reds predominate, with a few splashes of large white roses with a bright red on their edges trying to push through. The pathway under Ellie's feet - totally absent outside the gates - is intact, black and white stones forming complicated swirling patterns. Trees grow tall and scraggly throughout, forming a dark canopy that only reluctantly lets the moonlight through.
The house itself... Large and rambling, though the front facade is a bit deceptive about how large and rambling. The paint is faded entirely, chipped off and greyed, but - it might've been dark, once. The windows are intact, mostly, only a single broken one up in the attic, and the form of the house is -
Shockingly straight. Like someone smudged the house after it was newly built. There's no sagging. No missing roof tiles. No apparent rot, not in the grand front porch nor in the sideboards. Birds have nested in every plausible nook or cranny, but - there's no signs of damage from animals, either.
The wind moans around Ellie, low and cold.
The doors to the house are enormous and hard to miss, stained glass windows flanking them. They're said to be unlocked.