He was quiet in
speech, reserved in manner, and seemed depressed and under a cloud; but
Clover liked his face at once. He looked both strong and kind, she
thought.
The house consisted of one large square room in the middle, which served
as parlor and dining-room both, and on either side two bedrooms. The
kitchen was in a separate building. There was no lack of comfort, though
things were rather rude, and the place had a bare, masculine look. The
floor was strewn with coyote and fox skins. Two or three easy-chairs stood
around the fireplace, in which, July as it was, a big log was blazing.
Their covers were shabby and worn; but they looked comfortable, and were
evidently in constant use. There was not the least attempt at prettiness
anywhere. Pipes and books and old newspapers littered the chairs and
tables; when an extra seat was needed Clarence simply tipped a great pile
of these on to the floor. A gun-rack hung upon the wall, together with
sundry long stock-whips and two or three pairs of spurs, and a smell of
tobacco pervaded the place.
Clover's eyes wandered to a corner where stood a small parlor organ, and
over it a shelf of books. She rose to examine them. To her surprise they
were all hymnals and Church of England prayer-books. There were no others.
She wondered what it meant.
Clarence had given up his own bedroom to Phil, and was to chum with his
friend.
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