Her canary hung in the window, and greeted me
with a perfect whirlwind of _roulades_ as I stepped into the room. Her
fire was burning briskly under a pot of water, which was just coming
to the boiling-point, and singing as gayly and almost as loudly as her
bird. Over the back of a chair was thrown the work she had been busied
with; and on the bed, almost hid by the curtains, was a pair of the
prettiest little blue garters I ever saw, even in Paris,--span-new they
were, and had evidently been bought no longer ago than the evening
before,--and some other articles of feminine apparel, which I will not
attempt to describe. I looked into her glass, I really believe, with the
hope of finding there a faint reflection of her face and figure. She
must have looked into it but a minute before going out. A book, like
a Testament, lay on the table. I knew I should find her name on the
fly-leaf, and was just on the point of satisfying myself with regard to
that particular when I heard her feet upon the stairs; and, with a start
which nearly carried away the curtains of her bed, I rushed from her
room into my own.
How my heart beat, after I had gently closed my door and was sitting
on the side of my bed, listening to the movements in the next room! It
didn't seem to me as though I had been guilty of a high misdemeanor,
and yet, though I had been prepared for her return, I was as much
discomposed as though I had been caught peeping.
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