We are now quite comfortably fixed, in what was once my
mother's chamber, and most unexpectedly we have a carpet. The other day, while
entertaining some friends, in this chamber by night, dining-room by day, and
parlour ever and anon, Mrs. Secretary Mallory walked in, who, like ourselves,
has had many ups-and-downs during the Confederacy, and therefore her kind heart
knows exactly how to sympathize with others. While talking away, she suddenly
observed that there was no carpet on the floor, and exclaimed, “Mrs. –––, you
have no carpet! My boxes have just come from Montgomery, where I left them two
years ago, filled with carpets and bedding. I have five, and I will lend you
one. Don't say a word; I couldn't be comfortable, and think of you with this
bare floor. Mr. ––– is too delicate for it, and you are both too old to begin
now on an uncarpeted room.” An hour after she left us a servant came with the
carpet, which was soon tacked down, and gives a home-like, comfortable air to
the room.
SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern
Refugee, During the War, p. 243
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