I
felt quite shy at first; then we laughed so we could not get to sleep.
They are perfect angels and do everything for me, and make me so vain
admiring my hair being so long and curly. Columbia brushed it for half
an hour last night, and we were just in the middle of it when we pulled
up at a small station, on the beginning of the mining world, and to our
surprise Mr. Renour and his friend got in. We heard the noise and the
greetings and all peeped out to see, and the Senator, sans gene, brought
them down the passage to say how do you do.
Mr. Renour does look a pet! He was (and still is to-day) in miner's
dress, and it is corduroy trousers tucked into high-laced boots and a
grey flannel shirt with a shallow turn down collar which has been turned
up again, looking like a Lord Palmerton, or someone of that date; a
loose tie and a corduroy Norfolk jacket, all a sort of earth colour
except the tie, which is blue. The friend is the same, and they both
have queer American-looking sort of sombrero greenish felt hats, and the
friend hasn't even a tie.
We were glad to see them, at least I was. We were all in dressing-gowns,
with our hair down, and the girls pretended to hide behind me and be
coy, and we played the fool just like children.
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