The Fordham household was not on such a scale that the heads of the
family could sit still in dignified ease on the eve of such a
spectacle. Every one was busy adorning the hall or the tables, and
John would not be denied his share, though as he could neither stoop,
lift, nor use his right arm, he was reduced to making up wreaths and
bouquets, with Lina to supply him with flowers, since he was the one
person with whom she never failed to be happy or good. Fordham was
entreated to sit still and share the employment, but his long, thin
hands proved utterly wanting in the dexterity that the Monk
displayed. He was, moreover, the man in authority constantly called
to give orders, and in his leisure moments much more inclined to
haunt his Infanta's winged steps, and erect his tall person where she
could not reach. Artistic taste rendered her, her mother, and Allen
most valuable decorators, and it might be doubted whether Allen had
ever toiled so hard in his life. In pity to the busy servants,
luncheon was served up cold on a side table, when Barbara, who had
rallied her spirits to nonsense pitch, declared that metaphorically,
Fordham and the agent carved the meal with gloves of steel, and that
the workers drank the red wine through the helmet barred.
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