"From Nottingham! Then you have had a beautiful day for your journey."
Then he strayed into the scullery to wash his hands and face, and from
force of habit came on to the hearth with the towel to dry himself.
At tea Clara felt the refinement and sang-froid of the household. Mrs.
Morel was perfectly at her ease. The pouring out the tea and attending
to the people went on unconsciously, without interrupting her in her
talk. There was a lot of room at the oval table; the china of dark blue
willow-pattern looked pretty on the glossy cloth. There was a little
bowl of small, yellow chrysanthemums. Clara felt she completed the
circle, and it was a pleasure to her. But she was rather afraid of the
self-possession of the Morels, father and all. She took their tone;
there was a feeling of balance. It was a cool, clear atmosphere, where
everyone was himself, and in harmony. Clara enjoyed it, but there was a
fear deep at the bottom of her.
Paul cleared the table whilst his mother and Clara talked.
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