Nature, which had been so kind in giving to him a vivid
imagination, had also given with it an intense appreciation. He liked
nearly everything, and nearly everybody, he could see a rosy mist
where the ordinary man saw only a cloud, and just now New York was so
kind to him that he loved it all.
A week in the city and he attended a brilliant ball given by William
Walton in the Walton mansion, in Franklin Square, then the most
elaborate and costly home in North America. It was like a great
English country house, with massive brick walls and woodwork, all
imported and beautifully carved. The staircase in particular made of
dark ebony was the wonder of its day, and, in truth, the whole
interior was like that of a palace, instead of a private residence, at
that time, in America.
Robert enjoyed himself hugely. He realized anew how close was the
blood relationship among all those important families, and he was
already familiar with their names. The powerful sponsorship of Mr.
Hardy had caused them to take him in as one of their number, and for
that reason he liked them all the more. He was worldly wise enough
already to know that we are more apt to call a social circle snobbish
when we do not belong to it.
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