He was thinking of sounding the knocker
again, when a lady's servant, partly white, rolled back the bolt, and
bowed to his question whether the Judge was in.
He entered the broad hall of that distinguished residence, and taking
the Entailed Hat from his head, hung it up at last, where better
head-coverings had been wont to keep equal society, on a carved mahogany
rack of colonial times. The venerable object, once there, gave a common
look to everything, as Meshach thought, and deepened his personal sense
of unworthiness. He tried to feel angry, but apprehension was too strong
for passion even to be simulated.
"O, discriminating God!" he felt, within, "is it not enough to create us
so unequal that we must also cringe in spirit, and acknowledge it! I
expected to feel triumphant when I lodged my despised hat in this man's
house, but I feel meaner than before."
The room, whose door was opened by the lady's maid, was the library,
containing three cumbrous cases of books, and several portraits in oil,
with deep, gilded frames, a map of Virginia and its northeastern
environs, including all the peninsula south of the Choptank river and
Cape Henlopen; and near the door was a tall clock, that a giant might
stand in, solemnly cogging and waving time, and giving the monotony of
everlasting evening to the place, which was increased by the flickering
fire of wood on the tall brass fire-irons, before which some
high-backed, wide, comfortable leather chairs were drawn, all worn to
luxurious attitudes, as if each had been the skin of Judge Custis and
his companions, recently evacuated.
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