Edward F Benson

The Blotting Book Edward F Benson

Mrs. Assheton's house in Sussex Square, Brighton, was appointed with that finish of smoothstateliness which robs stateliness of its formality, and conceals the amount of trouble and personalattention which has, originally in any case, been spent on the production of the smoothness. Everything moved with the regularity of the solar system, and, superior to that wild rush of heavybodies through infinite ether, there was never the slightest fear of comets streaking theirunconjectured way across the sky, or meteorites falling on unsuspicious picnicers. In Mrs. Assheton's house, supreme over climatic conditions, nobody ever felt that rooms were either toohot or too cold, a pleasantly fresh yet comfortably warm atmosphere pervaded the place, meals werealways punctual and her admirable Scotch cook never served up a dish which, whether plain orornate, was not, in its way, perfectly prepared. A couple of deft and noiseless parlour-maids attendedto and anticipated the wants of her guests, from the moment they entered her hospitable doors tillwhen, on their leaving them, their coats were held for them in the most convenient possible mannerfor the easy insertion of the human arm, and the tails of their dinner-coats cunningly and unerringlytweaked from behind. In every way in fact the house was an example of perfect comfort; the softestcarpets overlaid the floors, or, where the polished wood was left bare, the parquetry shone with amoonlike radiance; the newest and most entertaining books (ready cut) stood on the well-orderedshelves in the sitting-room to beguile the leisure of the studiously minded; the billiard table wasalways speckless of dust, no tip was ever missing from any cue, and the cigarette boxes and matchstands were always kept replenished. In the dining-room the silver was resplendent, until themoment when before dessert the cloth was withdrawn, and showed a rosewood table that mighthave served for a mirror to Narcissus.