rly equivalent to
studying his own character.
The personal contrast between Mr. Sherwin and his clerk was remarkable
enough, but the contrast between the dimensions and furnishing of the
rooms they lived in, was to the full as extraordinary. The apartment I
now surveyed was less than half the size of the sitting-room at North
Villa. The paper on the walls was of a dark red; the curtains were of
the same colour; the carpet was brown, and if it bore any pattern, that
pattern was too quiet and unpretending to be visible by candlelight. One
wall was entirely occupied by rows of dark mahogany shelves, completely
filled with books, most of them cheap editions of the classical works of
ancient and modern literature. The opposite wall was thickly hung with
engravings in maple-wood frames from the works of modern painters,
English and French. All the minor articles of furniture were of the
plainest and neatest order--even the white china tea-pot and tea-cup
on the table, had neither pattern nor colouring of any kind. What a
contrast was this room to the drawing-room at North Villa!
On his return, Mr. Mannion found me looking at his tea-equipage. "I
am afraid, Sir, I must confess myself an epicure and a prodigal in two
things," he said; "an epicure in tea, and a prodigal (at least for a
person in my situation) in books. However, I receive a liberal salary,
and can satisfy my tastes, such as they are, and save money too. What
can I offer you, Sir?"
Seeing the preparations on the table, I asked for tea. While he was
speaking to me, there was one peculiarity about him that I observed.
Almost all men, when they stand on their own hearths, in their own
homes, instinctively alter more or less from their out-of-door manner:
the stiffest people expand, the coldest thaw a little, by their own
firesides. It was not so with Mr. Mannion. He was exactly the same man
at his own house that he was at Mr. Sherwin's.
There was no need for him to have told me that he was an epicure in tea;
the manner in which he made it would have betrayed that to anybody. He
put in nearly treble the quantity which would generally be considered
sufficient for two persons; and almost immediately after he had
filled the tea-pot with boiling water, began to pour from it into the
cups--thus preserving all the aroma and delicacy of flavour in the herb,
without the alloy of any of the coarser part of its strength. When we
had finished our first cups, there was no
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