The baby, who behaved very much like a wooden machine, with the exception of staring and sucking its fingers, was again clasped in her arms, and we proceeded to the parlors. The blinds were shut closely and fastened to, and Mrs. Morfield, encumbered with the baby, tried in vain to open them. I gazed around, as well as I was able in the dark, and saw that the rooms were very large and handsomely furnished—having a cool appearance that was extremely pleasant. Very well satisfied with this prospect, I lent my assistance to unfasten the shutters—but in vain, they were obstinately determined not to open; and with a sigh I followed Mrs. Morfield into the hall. “Come here,” said she, as she threw open a door on the other side, “here is a room that will just suit you, Miss Ella. I believe you are a little romantic, and the prospect from these windows cannot fail to please you.” It was a complete fairy bower; the floor was covered with a light straw matting; the pretty French bedstead had a canopy of thin white muslin, bordered with lace, with a corresponding cover on the little toilet-table; the chairs were of wood, prettily painted, and every thing looked as light, airy, and country-like as possible. I was in ecstasies with the whole arrangement, and on glancing from the window, I found that the prospect quite justified Mrs. Morfield’s praises. Directly beneath was the green, close-shaven lawn, studded with wide-spreading trees, across which a majestic peacock every now and then strutted in all the glory of beauty and splendor; while far away rose a dim, indistinct mist of blue waters and purple mountains.