Immediately after the four muffled forms silently glided from the room, leaving our friends to pass the remainder of the night unmolested.
Late the next morning Dora opened her deep blue eyes, and with one fair hand swept aside the spotless curtain, and gazed out into the room.
An expression of wondering admiration shone in her lovely orbs as she beheld the splendor, lighted by the many-jetted chandelier, which surrounded her, and she raised her hand as if to brush away some imaginary vision; but when she looked again the fair scene remained.
With a breathless voice, and a quickly beating heart, she shook her aunt, and cried out:
“Auntie, auntie, wake up, and tell me what this means!”
“What, child—what is it?” exclaimed the old lady, in a fright, sitting bolt upright in bed, and unable to get her eyes open.
“Why, this lovely room!—all these beautiful things! Everything around us is gorgeous. This is not the room we came into last night. That was plain and homely, although neat and clean. And—why—but this is the same bed!”
“Sure enough,” said Madame Alroyd, staring about with an amazed expression on her face. “We are either bewitched,” she continued, “or our room has been entered during the night, and we borne off, bed and all, to another.”
“Oh, auntie, see what lovely pictures and statuettes—and just look at this lovely toilet set—was there ever anything so exquisite!” exclaimed the impulsive girl, who had sprung from her couch, and was pattering about in her little bare feet upon an exploring expedition, and filled with admiration at everything she saw.