arrangement of the room.

A walnut chest of drawers, beautifully grained and well polished, four
chairs of the same wood, a large table with one of those green cloth
covers sometimes seen in country cottages, a straw-bottom armchair,
with a footstool--such was the unpretending furniture. There was, too,
in the recess in one of the windows, the cage of the two canaries,
faithful companions of Miss Dimpleton. By one of those notable
inventions which arise only in the minds of poor people, the cage was
set in the middle of a large chest, a foot in depth, upon the table:
this chest, which Miss Dimpleton called the garden of her birds, was
filled with earth, covered with moss during the winter, and in the
spring with turf and flowers. Rudolph gazed into this apartment with
interest and curiosity; he perfectly comprehended the joyous humor of
this young girl; he pictured the silence disturbed by the warbling
birds, and the singing of Miss Dimpleton. In the summer, doubtless,
she worked near the open window, half hidden by a verdant curtain of
sweet pea, nasturtium, and blue and white morning-glories; in the
winter, she sat by the side of the stove, enlivened by the soft light
of her lamp.

* * * * * * *

Rudolph was thus far in these reflections, when, looking mechanically
at the door, he noticed a strong bolt--a bolt that would not have been
out of place on the door of a prison. This bolt caused him to reflect.
It had two meanings, two distinct uses: to shut the door _upon_
lovers within--to shut the door _against_ lovers without. One of
these uses would utterly contradict the assertions of Mrs. Pipelet--
the other would confirm them. Rudolph had just arrived at these