Diningroom

"In a little while we were called to breakfast in a lovely, homely diningroom such as country hotels some times boast—a diningroom of an indescribable artlessness and crudity. […] As I neared the diningroom door and was passing the coatrack, mine host appeared and, with a grace and tact which I have nowhere seen surpassed, and in a voice which instantly obviated all possibility of a disagreeable retort, he presented me a coat which he had taken from a hook and, holding it ready, said: “Would you mind slipping into this?” […] Something about the man’s manner made me ashamed of myself—not that it would have been such a dreadful thing to have gone into the diningroom looking as I was, for I was entirely presentable, but that I had not taken greater thought to respect his conventions more. […] These enormous American watering place hotels, with their armies of servants, heavy, serious-faced guests, solemn state diningrooms, miles of halls and the like, more or less frighten me."