broad stairs.

"No, your honour."

"Is company with her ladyship?"

"No, not company, sir," with a certain hesitation, which damped Betty's
satisfaction in the first assurance.

What did she see as Maine opened the door? It was a very spacious
bedroom, the bed in an alcove hung with rose-coloured satin embroidered
with myrtles and white roses, looped up with lace and muslin. Like
draperies hung round the window, fluted silk lined the room, and
beautiful japanned and inlaid cabinets and _etageres_ adorned the walls,
bearing all varieties and devices of new and old porcelain from Chins,
Sevres, Dresden, or Worcester, tokens of Mr. Wayland's travels. There
was a toilette table before one window covered with lacquer ware, silver
and ivory boxes, and other apparatus, and an exquisite Venetian mirror
with the borders of frosted silver work.

Not far off, but sideways to it, sat Lady Belamour in a loose sacque
of some rich striped silk, in crimson and blue stripes shot with gold
threads. Slippers, embroidered with gold, showed off her dainty feet,
and a French hairdresser stood behind her chair putting the finishing
touches to the imposing fabric of powder, flower, and feather upon her
head. A little hand-mirror, framed in carved ivory inlaid with coral,
and a fan, lay on a tiny spindle-legged table close in front of her,
together with a buff-coloured cup of chocolate. At a somewhat larger
table Mrs. Loveday, her woman, was dispensing the chocolate, whilst a
little negro boy, in a fantastic Oriental costume, waited to carry the
cups about.

On a sofa near at hand, in an easy attitude, reclined Colonel Mar,
holding out to Lady Belamour a snuff-box of tortoiseshell and gold,
and a lady sat near on one of the tall black-and-gold chairs drinking
chocolate, while all were giving their opinions on the laces, feathers,
ribbons, and trinkets which another Frenchman was displaying from a
basket-box placed on the floor, trying to keep aloof a little Maltese
lion-dog, which had been roused from its cushion, and had come to
inspect his wares. A little further off, Archer, in a blue velvet coat,
white satin waistcoat, and breeches and silk stockings, and Amoret,
white-frocked, blue-sashed, and bare-headed (an innovation of fashion),
were admiring the nodding mandarins, grinning nondescript monsters,
and green lions of extraordinary form which an emissary from a
curiosity-shop was unpacking. Near the door, in an attitude weary
yet o