Happy Days in Southern California #220880

No, it was not a common abode Of a man of the traveled class, without individuality, but a room in which one felt at ease, assured that its owner was well brought up, a man whose body, soul, and mind had each grown without invading the territory of the others, and there fore not at their expense. The room did not say, See what my master can afford; see what a surfeit Of wealth I hold. Nay, it said, My master is reflected in me; here is seren ity and refinement, not an embarrassment of riches. The room was not like some banker's good wife who is lost behind the glamour of her jewels, but was like that good-wife who herself adorns her apparel, whose adornment is for gotten in herself.