United States -- History -- Civil War, 1861-1865 -- Fiction
He sought to win her to some demonstration of interest when they were
presently at table, with old Janus skirmishing about the dining room
with a silver salver, hindering the meal rather than serving it. Only
conventional courtesy characterized her, although she gave Baynell a
radiant smile when offering a second cup of tea; an official smile, so
to speak, strictly appertaining to her pose as hostess, as she sat
behind the massive silver tea service that had been in the Roscoe family
for many years.
She left the conversation almost wholly to the gentlemen when they had
returned to the library. Quiescent, inexpressive, she leaned back in a
great arm-chair, her beautiful eyes fixed reflectively on the fire. The
three "ladies," on a small sofa, apparently listened too, the little
dumb girl seeming the most attentive of the trio, to the half-hearted,
guarded, diplomatic discussion of politics, such as was possible in
polite society to men of opposing factions in those heady, bitter days.
Only once, when Baynell was detailing the names of his brothers to
gratify Judge Roscoe's interest in the family of his ancient friend, did
Mrs. Gwynn suggest her individuality. She suddenly rose.
"You would like to see the portraits of Judge Roscoe's sons," she said
as definitely as if he had asked this privilege. It may not have been
the fact, but Baynell felt that she was making amends to the absent for
the apostasy of "entertaining a Yankee officer," as the phrase went in
that day, by exhibiting with pride their cherished images and forcing
him to perform polite homage before them.
He meekly followed, however, as she took from a wide-mouthed jar on the
table a handful of tapers, made of rolled paper, and, lighting one at
the fire, led the way across the wide hall and into the cold, drear
gloom of the drawing-rooms. There in the dim light from the hall
chandelier, shining through the open door, she flitted from lamp to
lamp, and instantly there was a chill, white glitter throughout the
great apartments, showing the floriated velvet carpets, affected at that
time, the carved rosewood furniture upholstered with satin damask of
green and gold, the lambrequins of a harmonizing brocade and lace
curtains at the windows, the grand piano, and marble-topped tables, and
on the walls a great inexpressive mirror, above each of the white marble
mantelpieces, and some large oil paintings, chiefly the portraits of the
family.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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