It
was a bright, cheerful apartment, giving upon the laurels of the rocky
hillside, and permeated, like the rest of the house, with the wholesome
spice of the valley--an odor that, in its pure desiccating property,
seemed to obliterate all flavor of alien human habitation, and even to
dominate and etherealize the appetizing smell of the viands before
them. The bare, shining, planed, boarded walls appeared to resent any
decoration that might have savored of dust, decay, or moisture. The four
large windows and long, open door, set in scanty strips of the plainest
spotless muslin, framed in themselves pictures of woods and rock and sky
of limitless depth, color, and distance, that made all other adornment
impertinent. Nature, invading the room at every opening, had banished
Art from those neutral walls.
"It's like a picnic, with comfort," said Mainwaring, glancing round him
with boyish appreciation. Miss Minty was not yet there; the Chinaman
was alone in attendance. Mainwaring could not help whispering, half
mischievously, to Louise, "You draw the line at Chinamen, I suppose?"
"WE don't, but HE does," answered the young girl. "He considers us his
social inferiors. But--hush!"
Minty Sharpe had just entered the room, and was advancing with smiling
confidence towards the table.
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