Children's stories; Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Didactic fiction; Domestic fiction; Pride and vanity -- Juvenile fiction
It is evident, even on the most superficial survey, that different
tastes have been concerned in the fitting up of the cottage. Most of the
furniture is plain, even to coarseness; the table is of deal, and so are
the chairs, but over the first a delicate cover has been thrown, and
the latter—to the annoyance of the master of the house—are adorned with
a variety of tidies, which too often form themselves into superfluous
articles of dress for those who chance to occupy the seats. The wall
is merely white-washed, but there has been an attempt to make it look
gay, by hanging on it pale watercolour drawings of flowers, bearing but
an imperfect resemblance to nature. One end of the room is devoted to
the arts, and bears unmistakable evidence of the presence of woman in
the dwelling. A green guitar-box, from which peeps a broad pink ribbon,
occupies a place in the corner, half hidden by a little table, on which,
most carefully arranged, appear several small articles of vertu. A tiny,
round mirror occupies the centre, attached to an ornamental receptacle
for cards; two or three miniatures in morocco cases, diminutive cups and
saucers of porcelain, and a pair of china figures which have suffered
from time, the one wanting an arm and the other a head,—these form the
chief treasures of the collection, if I except a few gaily bound books,
which are so disposed as to add to the general effect.
At this end of the room sits a lady engaged in cutting out a tissue paper
ornament for the grate; for though the weather is cold, no chilliness of
atmosphere would be thought to justify a fire in that room from the 1st
of April to that of November. The lady, who is the only surviving member
of the family of Timon Bardon and his late wife the farmer’s daughter,
seems to have numbered between thirty and forty years of age,—it would be
difficult to say to which date the truth inclines, for Cecilia herself
would never throw light on the subject. Miss Bardon’s complexion is
sallow; her tresses light, the eye-lashes lighter, and the brows but
faintly defined. There is a general appearance of whity brown about the
face, which is scarcely redeemed from insipidity by the lustre of a pair
of mild, grey eyes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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