There are snug chambers in those Inns where the bachelors live, and, for
the desolate fellows they pretend to be, it is quite surprising how well
they get on. John was very pathetic on the subject of his dreary life,
and the deplorable makeshifts and apologetic contrivances it involved,
but he really seemed to make himself pretty comfortable. His rooms were
the perfection of neatness and convenience at any rate; and if he were
anything but comfortable, the fault was certainly not theirs.
He had no sooner ushered Tom and his sister into his best room (where
there was a beautiful little vase of fresh flowers on the table, all
ready for Ruth. Just as if he had expected her, Tom said), than, seizing
his hat, he bustled out again, in his most energetically bustling, way;
and presently came hurrying back, as they saw through the half-opened
door, attended by a fiery-faced matron attired in a crunched bonnet,
with particularly long strings to it hanging down her back; in
conjunction with whom he instantly began to lay the cloth for dinner,
polishing up the wine-glasses with his own hands, brightening the silver
top of the pepper-caster on his coat-sleeve, drawing corks and filling
decanters, with a skill and expedition that were quite dazzling.
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