Her linen
would just fit into the drawers of the bureau. Her two or three
dresses and jackets were hung tidily away behind the curtain which
formed her wardrobe.
Priscilla pushed her empty trunk against the wall, folded up the bits
of string and paper which lay scattered about, and then, slowly
undressing, she got into bed.
She undressed with a certain sense of luxuriousness and pleasure. Her
room began to look charming to her now that her things were unpacked,
and the first sharp pain of her homesickness was greatly softened
since she had fallen in love with Maggie Oliphant.
Priscilla had not often in the course of her life undressed by a fire,
but then had she ever spent an evening like this one? All was fresh to
her, new, exciting. Now she was really very tired, and the moment she
laid her head on her pillow would doubtless be asleep.
She got into bed, and, putting out her candle, lay down. The firelight
played on the pale blue walls and lit up the bold design of the
briar-roses which ran round the frieze at the top of the room.
Priscilla wondered why she did not drop asleep at once. She felt vexed
with herself when she discovered that each instant the chance of
slumber was flying before her, that every moment her tired body became
more restless and wide-awake.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48