It had expected elegance, for
Clem had been wont to enlarge upon the splendors of his former home.
When it was finally known that the long-vaunted furnishings were coming,
the town had prepared to be dazzled by sets of black walnut, ornate with
gilt lines, by patent rockers done in plush, by fashionable sofas, gay
with upholstery of flowered ingrain, by bedroom sets of ash, stencilled
adroitly with pink-and-blue flowers, or set with veneered panels of
burl; by writing-desks of maple and music-stands of cherry with many
spindles and frettings, by sideboards of finest new oak with brass
handles and mirrors in the backs.
The town had anticipated, in short, up to its own high and difficult
standards. And along had come a ruck of stuff that was dark and dingy
and old-fashioned; awkward articles with a vast dull expanse of
mahogany, ending in clumsy claw feet; spindle-legged tables inlaid with
white wood; old-fashioned mirrors in scarred gilt frames;
awkward-looking highboys and the plainest of sofas and lounges. The
chief sideboard boasted not the tiniest bit of brass; even the handles
were of cheap glass, and Clem had set candle-sticks upon it that were
nothing but pewter.
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