nd. The proprietor
lies asleep on a sofa--the weather is cool--the time is near midnight:
we will make a sketch of the room during his slumber.

It is oblong--some thirty feet in length and twenty-five in breadth--a
shape affording the best(ordinary) opportunities for the adjustment of
furniture. It has but one door--by no means a wide one--which is at one
end of the parallelogram, and but two windows, which are at the
other. These latter are large, reaching down to the floor--have deep
recesses--and open on an Italian _veranda. _Their panes are of a
crimson-tinted glass, set in rose-wood framings, more massive than
usual. They are curtained within the recess, by a thick silver tissue
adapted to the shape of the window, and hanging loosely in small
volumes. Without the recess are curtains of an exceedingly rich crimson
silk, fringed with a deep network of gold, and lined with silver tissue,
which is the material of the exterior blind. There are no cornices; but
the folds of the whole fabric (which are sharp rather than massive, and
have an airy appearance), issue from beneath a broad entablature of rich
giltwork, which encircles the room at the junction of the ceiling and
walls. The drapery is thrown open also, or closed, by means of a thick
rope of gold loosely enveloping it, and resolving itself readily into
a knot; no pins or other such devices are apparent. The colours of
the curtains and their fringe--the tints of crimson and gold--appear
everywhere in profusion, and determine the _character _of the room. The
carpet--of Saxony material--is quite half an inch thick, and is of the
same crimson ground, relieved simply by the appearance of a gold cord
(like that festooning the curtains) slightly relieved above the surface
of the _ground, _and thrown upon it in such a manner as to form a
succession of short irregular curves--one occasionally overlaying the
other. The walls are prepared with a glossy paper of a silver gray tint,
spotted with small Arabesque devices of a fainter hue of the prevalent
crimson. Many paintings relieve the expanse of paper. These are chiefly
landscapes of an imaginative cast--such as the fairy grottoes of
Stanfield, or the lake of the Dismal Swamp of Chapman. There
are, nevertheless, three or four female heads, of an ethereal
beauty-portraits in the manner of Sully. The tone of each picture is
warm, but dark. There are no "brilliant effects." _Repose _speaks in
all. Not one is of small size. D