and it seemed to me an arrogant shadow.
Mrs. Harling paid no heed to any one else if
he was there. Before he went to bed she al-
ways got him a lunch of smoked salmon or
anchovies and beer. He kept an alcohol lamp
in his room, and a French coffee-pot, and his
wife made coffee for him at any hour of the
night he happened to want it.

Most Black Hawk fathers had no personal
habits outside their domestic ones; they paid
the bills, pushed the baby carriage after office
hours, moved the sprinkler about over the
lawn, and took the family driving on Sunday.
Mr. Harling, therefore, seemed to me auto-
cratic and imperial in his ways. He walked,
talked, put on his gloves, shook hands, like a
man who felt that he had power. He was not
tall, but he carried his head so haughtily that
he looked a commanding figure, and there was
something daring and challenging in his eyes.
I used to imagine that the "nobles" of whom
Antonia was always talking probably looked
very much like Christian Harling, wore caped
overcoats like his, and just such a glittering
diamond upon the little finger.

Except when the father was at home, the
Harling house was never quiet. Mrs. Harling

[[179]]

p178 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p179w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p180

v?