premises."
"Why!" cried Miss Pinnegar, for once brutally and angrily hostile to
him: "You'll make it sound like a private lunatic asylum."
"Will you explain why?" answered James tartly.
For himself, he was enraptured with the scheme. He began to tot up
ideas and expenses. There would be the handsome entrance and hall:
there would be an extension of the kitchen and scullery: there would
be an installing of new hot-water and sanitary arrangements: there
would be a light lift-arrangment from the kitchen: there would be a
handsome glazed balcony or loggia or terrace on the first floor at
the back, over the whole length of the back-yard. This loggia would
give a wonderful outlook to the south-west and the west. In the
immediate foreground, to be sure, would be the yard of the
livery-stables and the rather slummy dwellings of the colliers,
sloping downhill. But these could be easily overlooked, for the eye
would instinctively wander across the green and shallow valley, to
the long upslope opposite, showing the Manor set in its clump of
trees, and farms and haystacks pleasantly dotted, and moderately far
off coal-mines with twinkling headstocks and narrow railwaylines
crossing the arable fields, and heaps of burning slag. The balcony
or covered terrace--James settled down at last to the word
_terrace_--was to be one of the features of the house: _the_
feature. It was to be fitted up as a sort of elegant lounging
restaurant. Elegant teas, at two-and-six per head, and elegant
suppers, at five shillings without wine, were to be served here.
As a teetotaller and a man of ascetic views, James, in his first
shallow moments, before he thought about it, assumed that his house
should be entirely non-alcoholic. A temperance house! Already he
winced. We all know what a provincial Temperance Hotel is. Besides,
there is magic in the sound of wine. _Wines Served_. The legend
attracted him immensely--as a teetotaller, it had a mysterious,
hypnotic influence. He must have wines. He knew nothing about them.
But Alfred Swayn, from the Liquor Vaults, would put him in the
running in five minutes.
It was most curious to see Miss Pinnegar turtle up at the mention of
this scheme. When first it was disclosed to her, her colour came up
like a turkey's in a flush of indignant anger.
"It's ridiculous. It's just ridiculous!" she blurted, bridling and
ducking her head and turning aside, like an indignant turkey.
"Ridiculous! Why? Will you explain why!" retorted James, turtling
also.
"It's absolutely ridiculous!" she repeated, unable to do more than
splutter.
"Well, we'll see," said James, rising to superiority.
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