The fare at the table was plain; good bread,
butter and milk from the farm were present. It is hardly necessary to
say that I looked around with peculiar interest on those who were to be
my new friends and companions. It was not a dismal or sober meal. There
was a happy buzz that indicated to me a probability of great future
happiness.
How well do I remember the old dining-room with its familiar forms and
faces--too many to describe now! There were the young and pretty Misses
Foord; the one a dimpled blonde, lovely, rosy-complexioned, with large,
wonderful blue eyes; and her sister with her clear skin and dark hair
and eyebrows, both wearing their contrasted and unbound tresses flowing
over their graceful shoulders. And hark! 'tis Dolly, dear Dolly Hosmer,
with her rollicking, noisy laugh. And pretty Mary Donnelly--oh, how
pretty! with the dimples and the peach-bloom on her face, her white
teeth and coal-black hair--ever pretty whether she was smiling at you
or peeling potatoes. And Charles Newcomb, the mysterious and profound,
with his long, dark, straight locks of hair, one of which was
continually being brushed away from his forehead as it continually
fell; with his gold-bowed eye-glass, his large nose and peculiar blue
eyes, his spasmodic expressions of nervous horror, and his
cachinnatious laugh.
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