We all smiled, in order to seem as if we felt at our
ease, and timidly looked for Mr Mulliner's sympathy. Not a muscle
of that wooden face had relaxed; and we were grave in an instant.
Mrs Jamieson's drawing-room was cheerful; the evening sun came
streaming into it, and the large square window was clustered round
with flowers. The furniture was white and gold; not the later
style, Louis Quatorze, I think they call it, all shells and twirls;
no, Mrs Jamieson's chairs and tables had not a curve or bend about
them. The chair and table legs diminished as they neared the
ground, and were straight and square in all their corners. The
chairs were all a-row against the walls, with the exception of four
or five which stood in a circle round the fire. They were railed
with white bars across the back and knobbed with gold; neither the
railings nor the knobs invited to ease. There was a japanned table
devoted to literature, on which lay a Bible, a Peerage, and a
Prayer-Book. There was another square Pembroke table dedicated to
the Fine Arts, on which were a kaleidoscope, conversation-cards,
puzzle-cards (tied together to an interminable length with faded
pink satin ribbon), and a box painted in fond imitation of the
drawings which decorate tea-chests. Carlo lay on the worsted-
worked rug, and ungraciously barked at us as we entered.
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