"And she
is alone?" asked Phineas. "Alone? Yes;--of course she is alone. Who
should be with her now?" Then she took him up into the drawing-room;
but, when there, he found that Madame Goesler was absent. "She shall
be down directly," said the girl. "I shall tell her who is here, and
she will come."
It was a very pretty room. It may almost be said that there could be
no prettier room in all London. It looked out across certain small
private gardens,--which were as bright and gay as money could make
them when brought into competition with London smoke,--right on to
the park. Outside and inside the window, flowers and green things
were so arranged that the room itself almost looked as though it
were a bower in a garden. And everything in that bower was rich and
rare; and there was nothing there which annoyed by its rarity or was
distasteful by its richness. The seats, though they were costly as
money could buy, were meant for sitting, and were comfortable as
seats. There were books for reading, and the means of reading them.
Two or three gems of English art were hung upon the walls, and
could be seen backwards and forwards in the mirrors. And there
were precious toys lying here and there about the room,--toys very
precious, but placed there not because of their price, but because of
their beauty.
Pages:
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014