Дні мрій

           Theyhadmademefreeoftheirideallittlerooms,fullofbooksandpictures,andcleanoftheantimacassartaint;theyhadshownmetheirchapel,high,hushed;andfaintlyscented,beautifulwithastrangenewbeautybornbothofwhatithadandwhatithadnot—thattoofamiliardowdinessofcommonplacesofworship.Theyhadalsofedmeintheirdining-hall,wherealongtablestoodontrestlesplaintoview,andallthewoodworkwasnatural,unpainted,healthilyscrubbed,andredolentoftheforestitcamefrom.Ibroughtawayfromthatvisit,andkeptbymeformanydays,asenseofcleanness,ofthefreshnessthatpricksthesenses—thefreshnessofcoolspringwater;andthelargesweptspacesoftherooms,theredtiles,andtheoakensettles,suggestedacomfortthathadnoconnexionwithpaddedupholstery.

           OnthisparticularmorningIwasinmuchtoounsociableamindforpayingfriendlycalls.Still,somethingintheaspectoftheplaceharmonisedwithmyhumour,andIworkedmywayroundtotheback,wheretheground,afteraffordinglevelenoughforakitchen-garden,brokesteeplyaway.BoththewordGothicandthethingitselfwerestillunknowntome;yetdoubtlessthearchitectureoftheplace,consistentthroughout,accountedforitssenseofcomradeshipinmyhourofdisheartenment.