The wardrobes were of satin-wood. The bedsteads, one small, one large,
were plain white, and gold in moderation.
All this, however, was but the frame to the delightful picture of a
wealthy young lady's nest.
The things that startled and thrilled Mr. Angelo were those his
imagination could see the fair mistress using. The exquisite toilet
table; the Dresden mirror, with its delicate china frame muslined and
ribboned; the great ivory-handled brushes, the array of cut-glass
gold-mounted bottles, and all the artillery of beauty; the baths of
various shapes and sizes, in which she laved her fair body; the bath
sheets, and the profusion of linen, fine and coarse; the bed, with its
frilled sheets, its huge frilled pillows, and its eider-down quilt,
covered with bright purple silk.
A delicate perfume came through the wardrobes, where strata of fine
linen from Hamburg and Belfast lay on scented herbs; and this,
permeating the room, seemed the very perfume of Beauty itself, and
intoxicated the brain. Imagination conjured pictures proper to the
scene: a goddess at her toilet; that glorious hair lying tumbled on the
pillow, and burning in contrasted color with the snowy sheets and with
the purple quilt.
From this reverie he was awakened by a soft voice that said, "How can I
ever thank you enough, sir?"
Mr.
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