The dining-room was bare alike of carpet and
pictures, but the floor had been scoured until the boards glistened
whitely; and two red ensigns, borrowed by Caleb from the British
mercantile marine, served to hide certain defects in the wallpaper.
Here Mr. Fogo sat awaiting his guests; for the preparation of the
drawing-room would have overtaxed Caleb's resources.
"Miss Thomasina Dearlove, and Messrs. Peter and Paul ditto!"
Mr. Fogo arose with a flush on his wasted cheek, held Tamsin's hand
for a moment, and then, bending, kissed it with grave courtesy.
She had removed her hat and cloak in the passage, and now stood
before him in a plain white frock--short-waisted, and of antique
make, perhaps, but little the worse for that. She wore no ornament
but a red rose on her bosom; and if, as I do not believe, a shade of
apprehension had troubled Mr. Fogo, it would have taken flight as she
stood before him, challenging his eyes.
But the Twins!
Like the Austrian army, they were "awfully arrayed." So stiff and
shiny indeed was their apparel, and such mysterious sounds did the
slightest movement draw from their linen, that the beholder grew
presently as uneasy as the wearer. Each wore a high stock and a
collar that cut the ears. The neck-cloth of Peter was crimson; of
Paul, vivid amber.
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