Bicycle touring -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
At this moment I distinctly saw his daughter punch him with her elbow,
and as I had no desire to make an early start, and wished very much to
enjoy a good breakfast in Cathay, I quickly declared that I was in no
hurry, and that the family breakfast hour would suit me perfectly.
The young lady disappeared into the parlor, and I moved towards the
butler; but my host, probably thinking that he had not been quite as
attentive to me as his station demanded, or wishing to let me see what
a fine house he possessed, stepped up to me and asked me to look into
the billiard-room, the door of which I was about to pass. After some
remarks of deprecatory ostentation, in which he informed me that in
building his house he thought only of comfort and convenience, and
nothing of show, he carelessly invited my attention to the
drawing-room, the library, the music-room, and the little
sitting-room, all of which were furnished with as much stiffness and
hardness and inharmonious coloring as money could command.
When we had finished the round of these rooms he made me a bow as
stiff as one of his white and gold chairs, and I followed the butler
up the staircase. The man with the light preceded me into a room on
the second floor, and just as I was about to enter after him I saw the
young lady come around a corner of the hall with a lighted candle in
her hand.
[Illustration: "I kicked off my embroidered slippers"]
"Good-night," she said, with a smile so charming that I wanted to stop
and tell her something about Mary Talbot's brother; but she passed on,
and I went into my room.
It seemed perfectly ridiculous to me that people should carry around
bed-room candles in a house lighted from top to bottom by electricity,
but I had no doubt that this was one of the ultra-conventional customs
from which the dapper gentleman would not allow his family to depart.
I did not believe for a moment that his daughter would conform to such
nonsense except to please her parent.
The softly moving and attentive Brownster put the candle on the table,
blew it out, and touched a button, thereby lighting up a very
handsomely furnished room. Then, after performing every possible
service for me, with a bow he left me. Throwing myself into a great
easy chair, I kicked off my embroidered slippers and put my feet upon
another chair gay with satin stripes. Raising my eyes, I saw in front
of me a handsome mirror extending from the floor nearly to the
ceiling, and at the magnificent personage which therein met my gaze I
could not help laughing aloud.
I rose, stood before the mirror, folded my gorgeous gown around me,
spread it out, contrasting the crimson glory of its lining with the
golden yellow of my trousers, and wondered in my soul how that
exceedingly handsome girl with the bright eyes could have controlled
her risibilities as she sat with me on the piazza. I could see that
she had a wonderful command of herself, but this exercise of it seemed
superhuman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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