He drew her back a step or two and laid her hand upon the post of the door.
"What is this?" said Eleanor.
"That is a piece of the stem of the palm-fern."
"And these are its natural mouldings and markings! It is like elegant carved work! It is natural, is it not?" she said suddenly.
"Certainly. The natives do execute very marvellous carving in wood, with tools that would drive a workman at home to despair; but I have not learned the art. Come here—the pillars that hold up the roof of your house are of the same wood."
A double row of pillars through the whole length of the house gave it stability; they were stems of the same palm fern, and as they had been chosen and placed with a careful eye to size and position, the effect of them was not at all inelegant. The building itself was of generous length and width; and with a room cut off at each end, as the fashion was, the centre apartment was left of really noble proportions; broad, roomy, and lofty; with its palm columns springing up to its high roof of thatch. Standing beside one of them, Eleanor looked up and declared it a beautiful room.
"Do not look at the doors and windows," said Mr. Rhys. "I did not make those—they were sent out framed. I had only the pleasure of putting them in."
"And how did that agree with all your other work?"
"Well," he said decidedly. "That was my recreation."
"There is the prettiest mixture of wild and tame in this house," said Eleanor, speaking a little timidly; for she was conscious all the while how little Mr. Rhys was thinking of anything but herself. "Are these mats made here?"