olors. The dressing-table was covered
with a white cloth, on which reposed a comb and brush and a pink
pin-cushion with a muslin cover, and over which hung a crayon of the
cherub of the Sistine Madonna, who leans his chin upon his hand.

Within reach of Sophie's hand as she lay, were suspended a couple of
hanging shelves, which held her books. There were not a great many of
them, but they all bore signs of having been well read, and there was at
the same time a certain neatness and spotlessness in their appearance
which no merely new books could ever possess, but which was communicated
solely by Sophie's pure finger-touches. On the opposite side of the bed
stood a small table, on which ticked a watch; and beside the watch was a
work-basket, full of those multifarious little articles that only a
woman knows how to get together.

Looking around the room, and noting the delicate nicety and precision of
its condition and arrangement, one would have supposed that Sophie's own
hands must have been very lately at work upon it. But it was many weeks
since she had even sat in the easy-chair that stood in the
rosy-curtained window; and, although now far advanced in convalescence,
she had taken no part in the care of her room since her illness. Why it
had still continued to retain its immaculateness was one of many similar
mysteries which must always surround a character like Sophie's. Every
thing she accomplished seemed not so much to be done, as to take place,
in accordance with her idea or resolve; and there were always, in her
manifestations of whatever kind, more spiritual than material elements.

When Cornelia entered, Sophie laid down her sewing, and looked up-with a
smile in her eyes, which were large and gray, and the only regularly
beautiful part of her face. She had a way of confining a smile to them,
when wishing merely to express good-will or pleasure, which was peculiar
to herself, and very effective. Cornelia walked quite soberly up to the
bedside, kissed her sister, and then stood silent for several moments.

Compared with her recent exhilaration, this was very extraordinary
behavior. She had rushed up-stairs intent upon pouring into Sophie's
ears the whole gorgeous tale of her hopes and anticipations for the
coming summer. Yet no sooner was she within the door than her excitement
seemed to die out, and her enthusiasm ebb away. Extraordinary as it
appeared, it was by no means a rare occurrence. Cornelia alone cou