208 UNCLE TOM'S CABIN; OR
" Oh, is n't it beautiful, lovely! my own dear, darling home ! " she said to Miss Ophelia. " Is n't it beautiful ? "
" 'T is a pretty place," said Miss Ophelia, as she alighted; " though it looks rather old and heathenish to me."
Tom got down from the carriage, and looked about with an air of calm, still enjoyment. The negro, it must be remembered, is an exotic of the most gorgeous and superb countries of the world, and he has, deep in his heart, a passion for all that is splendid, rich, and fanciful; a passion which, rudely indulged by an untrained taste, draws on them the ridicule of the colder and more correct white race.
St. Clare, who was in his heart a poetical voluptuary, smiled as Miss Ophelia made her remark on his premises, and, turning to Tom, who was standing looking round, his beaming black face perfectly radiant with admiration, he said, —
" Tom, my boy, this seems to suit you."
" Yes, Mas'r, it looks about the right thing," said Tom.
All this passed in a moment, while trunks were being hustled off, hackman paid, and while a crowd, of all ages and sizes, — men, women, and children, — came running through the galleries, both above and below, to see Mas'r come in. Foremost among them was a highly dressed young mulatto man, evidently a very distingue personage, attired in the ultra extreme of the mode, and gracefully waving a scented cambric handkerchief in his hand.
This personage had been exerting himself, with great alacrity, in driving all the flock of domestics to the other end of the veranda.
" Back! all of you. I am ashamed of you," he said, in a tone of authority. " Would you intrude on Master's domestic relations, in the first hour of his return ? "
All looked abashed at this elegant speech, delivered with quite an air, and stood huddled together at a respectful distance, except two stout porters, who came up and began conveying away the baggage.