Madame herself was
superb in a regal-looking gown that became her aristocratic old
countenance as a rich setting becomes an antique cameo. Her stately
rooms were aglow with immense fire-places, each holding a small
cart-load of hissing and crackling wood, the reflected light gleaming
brightly from the shining fire-irons, while a number of brass
sconces--the picturesque chandeliers of the past--polished to the
similitude of gold, were softly shimmering overhead. The beautiful
English furniture of the last century, artistic yet home-like; the old
world cabinets, covered with surface carving, solid yet graceful in
appearance; tiles, grave and cheerful in design, set into oaken
mantel-pieces; peacock coloured screens, and ample crimson curtains,
edged with heavy silken borders of gold, all lent their aid to
brighten and enrich the rooms that to-night were graced by some of the
best society from Upper Canada's; most ambitious little town of York.
Mademoiselle Helene, beautiful in a blush rose gown, with a few
star-shaped flowers of the same shade in her silky hair, was the
magical living synthesis of this small world of warmth and colour in
the eyes of her lover.
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