Presently a girl, the same who had taken our bonnets, came in with
a pitcher of warm water and a plate of soda biscuit. She directed us
where to find the apparel she had nicely smoothed and folded; took off
the handsome counterpane, and the pillows trimmed with lace, putting
others of a plainer make in their places; shook down the window
curtains; asked us if we would have anything more, and quietly
disappeared. I offered mother the warm water, and appropriated the
biscuits. There were six. I ate every one, undressing meanwhile, and
surveying the apartment.

"Cassy, Mrs. Morgeson is an excellent housekeeper."

"Yes," I said huskily, for the dry biscuit choked me.

"What would Temperance and Hepsey say to this?"

"I think they would grumble, and admire. Look at this," showing her
the tassels of the inner window curtains done up in little bags. "And
the glass is pinned up with nice yellow paper; and here is a damask
napkin fastened to the wall behind the washstand. And everything
stands on a mat. I wonder if this is to be my room?"

"It is probably the chamber for visitors. Why, these are beautiful
pillow-cases, too," she exclaimed, as she put her head on the pillow.
"Come to bed; don't read."

I had taken up a red morocco-bound book, which was lying alone on the
bureau. It was Byron, and turning over the leaves till I came to
Don Juan, I read it through, and began Childe Harold, but the candle
expired. I struck out my hands through the palpable darkness, to find