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Lathrop, Rose Hawthorne, 1851-1926

"Memories of Hawthorne"

Their footfalls were descending snowflakes, their manners
devout, solemn, and stately. It was really quite delicious, just for a
short time; and it was impossible not to be convinced that we at least
came over with William the Conqueror; or we might be descended in a
straight line from Prince Bladud, who flourished in Bath eight hundred
years before the Christian era. At all events, we were the noblest in
the land, and received the salaams of the Sublime and the Pensive as
obviously due to our exalted rank. As I looked at my husband, so
kingly in aspect by nature, of such high courtesy in manner; and at
Una, princesslike, with her sweet dignity, I did not at all wonder at
the stolen glances of our waiters; that looking without looking for
which a thorough-bred English waiter is so remarkable. Lord Waldo also
"bore it well;" and as to the Lady Rose, she might have bloomed in a
royal conservatory. Sumptuous wax candles, in richly chased silver
candlesticks, lighted us up in the evening. Whenever I left the
sitting-room for my chamber, the Sublime was suddenly at the door to
open and shut it for me, bowing down with all his lilies. Ah, me! But
how can I describe the York House table! Such Apician food, so
delicately touched with fire! And who can ever sing adequately the
graceful curves in which the Pensive swept off the covers, at the
sound of some inaudible music--inaudible except to his ear--as soon as
we were all seated! I felt so grand that I was ready to shout with
laughter--having gone full circle from the sublime to the ridiculous
several times.


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