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Updated: May 23, 2025
She may not have known that Rosa's Creole skin was at a wretched disadvantage, as seen against the green silk background; but others noticed it, and thought how few complexions were comparable to the wearer's. She had the faculty of converting into a foil nearly every woman who approached her. "Thank you! So I am pimento, am I?" queried Rosa, pertly.
"Hit's the same hoss hit's Dave!" said Buck aloud. "Well, my Lord!" said Mollie simply. The Hon. Sam rose again. "And who is Sir Tardy Knight that hither comes with masked face?" he asked courteously. He got no answer. "What's your name, son?" The white mask puffed at the wearer's lips. "The Knight of the Cumberland," was the low, muffled reply. "Make him take that thing off!" shouted some one.
He wore the well-known cassock of black cloth, fastened round his waist by a black cloth belt with a brass buckle, which became thenceforth the distinctive dress of all Calvinist ministers, and was so uninteresting to the eye that it forced the spectator's attention upon the wearer's face. "I suffer too much, Theodore, to embrace you," said Calvin to the elegant cavalier.
In the course of her advance, her eyes fell upon Denis de Beaulieu's feet feet of which he was justly vain, be it remarked, and wore in the most elegant accoutrement even while travelling. She paused started, as if his yellow boots had conveyed some shocking meaning and glanced suddenly up into the wearer's countenance.
"A handsome piece of armour, there is no doubt about it; but it must have weighed pretty heavily on its wearer's shoulders," he muttered; and, urged by I know not what demon, he clapped it on his head and latched the gorget-piece about his neck. Struck almost speechless, I watched what he was doing thinking only how ugly he looked.
The leaves were of stamped iron-work, as light as the vine-leaves themselves, and the artist had not forgotten the graceful tendrils, which twined in the wearer's curls just as, in nature, they catch upon the branches.
These, at one end, were attached to an iron collar round his neck, at the other end to iron rings round his ankles. What sailors would call the slack of these heavy fetters was gathered up in one of the wearer's hands, and thus carried while he moved about at work.
"Come, Luke, let's get on the trail of something green and real." A few moments later there hurried along the same pathway a tall young woman in an old tailored suit which impressed one with the wearer's plainness. Instead of a silver vanity case she was laden with a basket of newspapers, string, and a garden trowel, indicating that fern roots would be the vogue shortly.
The head was followed by a perfect desert of chin, and by a shirt-collar and neckerchief, and by a dreadnought pilot-coat, and by a pair of dreadnought pilot-trousers, whereof the waistband was so very broad and high, that it became a succedaneum for a waistcoat: being ornamented near the wearer's breastbone with some massive wooden buttons, like backgammon men.
His doublet was prolonged behind into something resembling a violent exaggeration of what is now termed a "swallowtail," but was much obscured by the swelling folds of an enormous black, glossy-looking cloak, which must have been very much too long in calm weather, as the wind, whistling round the old house, carried it clear out from the wearer's shoulders to about four times his own length.
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