So I bow to the noble and beautiful faces, and again they smile in return.
I seem to have wandered away into the past and dreamed in a realm of
silence. And yet--it is strange I did not hear her--Annie is still singing
through the hall.
III.
I promised to tell you of the incident of the coat, the unfortunate coat
which I sometimes think makes the rich folks visiting the hall look
sidewise at me. It is strange! Am I not _myself_, whether clad in velvet
or in fustian--in homespun fabric, or in cloth of gold? People say I am
simple--wholly ignorant of the world; I must be so in truth.
But about the coat. I hinted that Annie even saw, and alluded to it; it
was not long after my arrival at the hall, and a young lady from the
neighborhood was paying a visit to Annie.
They were standing on the portico, and I was leaning against the trunk of
the old oak beneath, admiring the sunset which was magnificent that
evening. All at once I heard whispers, and turning round toward the young
ladies, saw them laughing. Annie's finger was extended toward the hole in
my elbow, and I could not fail to understand that she was laughing at my
miserable coat.
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