The fair plaintiff, with her mother, was early in attendance, and
under the Colonel's advice appeared in the same modest garb in which
she had first visited his office. This and her downcast modest
demeanor were perhaps at first disappointing to the crowd, who had
evidently expected a paragon of loveliness--as the Circe of the grim
ascetic defendant, who sat beside his counsel. But presently all eyes
were fixed on the Colonel, who certainly made up in _his_ appearance
any deficiency of his fair client. His portly figure was clothed in a
blue dress-coat with brass buttons, a buff waistcoat which permitted
his frilled shirt front to become erectile above it, a black satin
stock which confined a boyish turned-down collar around his full neck,
and immaculate drill trousers, strapped over varnished boots. A murmur
ran round the court. "Old 'Personally Responsible' had got his
war-paint on," "The Old War-Horse is smelling powder," were whispered
comments. Yet for all that the most irreverent among them recognized
vaguely, in this bizarre figure, something of an honored past in their
country's history, and possibly felt the spell of old deeds and old
names that had once thrilled their boyish pulses.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370