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Updated: May 3, 2025
Next, beyond folding doors, stood David's study, a pianoforte between the mullioned windows, a large carved center table covered with portfolios and books, the paneled walls hung with framed sheets of music written and autographed by famous composers. Upstairs, however, in her own apartment, Lilla had produced an eighteenth century air.
On the mantelshelf were many autographed portraits of Continental celebrities, while on the walls were one or two little gems of antique art which he had picked up on his erratic wanderings. Over the writing-table was a barometer and a storm-glass, while to the left a cosy corner extended round to the fireplace.
Shakspere, over in the corner and not autographed, had opened its mouth and begun to recite limericks. "Why why!" she said; and that was all she was capable of saying for the moment. Joy, terrified herself at her deed, turned and fled. What happened between Mrs. Jones and Grandfather she never knew, and never asked. She never halted in her flight till she was safe in her own little eyrie upstairs.
Autographed photographs lined the walls, autographed volumes littered the tables. Above her head two small bronze censers sent wreaths of incense curling about a vast testimonial, acknowledging her valiant service in behalf of the anti- tobacco crusade. Flanking this were badges of divers shape and size, representing societies to which she belonged.
My sister Agnes had gone to the wedding of Miss Warwick direct from "Bremo," and was in Richmond when my father sent her two of the first letters he wrote after the arrival of my mother in Lexington: "Lexington, Virginia, December 5, 1865. "My Worrying Little Agnes: your letter of the 1st received to-night. I have autographed the photographs and send a gross of the latter and a lock of hair.
When Lilla and David went driving through the country, Hamoud prowled all over the house. He entered the study, to stare at the autographed music framed on the walls, the manuscript strewn over the center table, the open piano.
I was still crying. Inside the van I saw my fish-net "bulletin board" which reminded me where I had been and where I was going. On it I saw an article about a bicycle ride I had taken two years before with Nunatak. I saw the cover of a book about Mohandas K. Gandhi, autographed by its author, William L. Shirer. I saw a brochure from the Peace Corps and a miniature American flag.
Everybody knew, in their little circle, that, in the nicest and most elder- brotherly way possible, Stephen Bocqueraz thought Susan Brown the greatest fun in the world, and quoted her, and presented her with his autographed books. This side of the affair, being real, had a tendency to make it all seem real, and sometimes confused, and sometimes a little frightened Susan.
He was tall and slender, and very gentle and nice, but he always had things the way he said he wanted them, and he preferred his autographed friends to his family portraits. "It's rather a good thing it's so dark out here, Aunt Lucilla," said Joy to the smiling Colonial lady in the dark corner above her. "You mayn't much like being where people can't see you but think how you'd feel, up garret!"
Over in his office in the municipal building where we went after dinner the general took something wrapped in tissue paper out of a drawer and from his manner, had he been a collector, I should have known that it was some rare treasure. When he undid the paper I saw a photograph of General Joffre autographed with a sentiment for the occasion.
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