The gas was lighted; the door was ajar into a toilet-room; a lavish
display of great, beautiful towels could be seen as you peeped in, and
various touches told of an expected guest. Flowers were blossoming on
the mantel, and a tiny vase which stood on a bracket near the
toilet-stand held a single rose of a peculiar hue and perfume, which had
blossomed for this hour. At least, Mrs. Roberts thought so.
Into this room, in all its purity and beauty, went Sallie Calkins'
bonnet and cape and her strong, new, thick shoes; and the wearer thereof
pushed the bonnet away from her flushed face, and stood and looked about
her.
Down stairs they discussed in curious tones--not her, but the mistress
of the mansion.
"Flossy, I do think you are too queer for anything! Why don't you have
her go to Katy's room? Katy is away for the night, you know, and I'm
sure her room is as neat and pretty as can be. Imagine what a contrast
it would be to anything that she has ever seen! Mr. Ried, you ought to
see the room into which she has been put. There isn't a more elegant one
in the house. Some of its furnishings are so delicate that I hardly like
to touch them. What sort of a disease is it that has taken Mrs. Roberts,
do you suppose, to send her there? Flossy, she will get no rest
to-night; she will be afraid of that immaculate bed.
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