“Well, I am pleased,” said the housekeeper. “I’ll leave you now, ma’am. I see Hester is waiting to attend on you.”
Nance, who was standing in a dream of delight in the middle of the lovely room, looked up at these words and encountered the dark gaze of her new maid.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“The trunks are in your dressing-room, ma’am,” said the girl, “and I am waiting for your keys, please.”
Nancy pulled them out of her pocket.
“Perhaps you will kindly tell me in which trunk your evening dresses are, ma’am?”
“I really cannot say,” began Nancy; then she paused to consider for a moment. “Oh! I know,” she said, “there is a very pretty evening dress which I can wear to-night—grey silk—in the large basket trunk with the arched roof.”
“I’ll have everything ready for you, ma’am, in less than a quarter of an hour,” said the girl. She withdrew as she spoke, closing the door of the bedroom behind her.
Nance went up to where a fire burned merrily in a grate, which was bright with brass and ornamental with lovely tiles, and stood warming her feet. The paper on the walls was of the faintest tone of rose; the mantelpiece of the purest white marble; the overmantel and all the furniture were ivory white mounted in brass; the window curtains and the bed hangings were of the softest shade of rose silk; no more lovely room could be imagined, and Nance, as she turned to survey her slender image in the many mirrors which were inserted in the walls, could not sufficiently give voice to her admiration. Her husband came in while she was examining the room.
“Ah!” he said, “I see the London people have done exactly what I told them. Well, Nance, what do you think of our bedroom?”