The personal contrast between Mr. Sherwin and his clerk was remarkable
enough, but the contrast between the dimensions and furnishing of the
rooms they lived in, was to the full as extraordinary. The apartment I
now surveyed was less than half the size of the sitting-room at North
Villa. The paper on the walls was of a dark red; the curtains were of
the same colour; the carpet was brown, and if it bore any pattern,
that pattern was too quiet and unpretending to be visible by
candlelight. One wall was entirely occupied by rows of dark mahogany
shelves, completely filled with books, most of them cheap editions of
the classical works of ancient and modern literature. The opposite
wall was thickly hung with engravings in maple-wood frames from the
works of modern painters, English and French. All the minor articles
of furniture were of the plainest and neatest order--even the white
china tea-pot and tea-cup on the table, had neither pattern nor
colouring of any kind. What a contrast was this room to the
drawing-room at North Villa!

On his return, Mr. Mannion found me looking at his tea-equipage. "I am
afraid, Sir, I must confess myself an epicure and a prodigal in two
things," he said; "an epicure in tea, and a prodigal (at least for a
person in my situation) in books. However, I receive a liberal salary,
and can satisfy my tastes, such as they are, and save money too. What
can I offer you, Sir?"

Seeing the preparations on the table, I asked for tea. While he was
speaking to me, there was one peculiarity about him that I observed.
Almost all men, when they stand on their own hearths, in their own
homes, instinctively alter more or less from their out-of-door manner:
the stiffest people expand, the coldest thaw a little, by their own