I went slowly into the drawing-room. I thought most likely little Sara was dressing upstairs, and we two would have a little time to ourselves. When I went into the great room it was lying in the twilight, very dim and shadowy. The great mirror looked like another dimmer world added on to this one which was already so dim,--a world all full of glimpses and gliding figures, and brightened up by the gleams of the firelight which happened to be blazing very bright and cheerful. There were no curtains closed nor blinds down. Four great long windows, each let into the opposite wall a long strip of sky, the grass, and leafless trees, giving one a strange idea of the whole world outside, the world of winds, and hills, and rivers, and foreign unknown people. It was not light that came in at these windows; it was a sort of grey luminous darkness, that led our eyes up to the sky and blurred everything underneath. But in the centre of the room burned that ruddy centre of fire, a light which is quite by itself, and is not to be compared to anything else. Straight before me, as I stood at the door, was Sarah’s screen, shutting out as much light as it could, and of course concealing her entirely; but beyond, full in the ruddy light on the other side of the screen, with the red fire reddening all over her velvet jacket, her glossy hair, and the white round arms out of those long wide sleeves, sat little Sara Cresswell, on a footstool opposite her godmamma, and talking to her. I cannot say Sara was in a pretty attitude. Young ladies now-a-days are sadly careless in their ways. She was stooping quite double, with one of her hands thrust into her hair, and the fire scorching her complexion all to nothing; and one of the long, uncovered windows, with the blind drawn up to the very top, you may be sure by Sara’s own wilful hands, was letting in the sky light over her, like a very tall spirit with pale blue eyes, so chilly, and clear, and pale, that it looked the oddest contrast possible to the firelight and the little velvet kitten then in front of it, all scorched and reddened over, as you could fancy; velvet takes on that surface tint wonderfully. I could see nothing of Sarah in the shelter of her screen; but there sat the little puss in velvet, straight before her, talking to her as nobody else ever ventured to talk. I have been long telling you how that fireside scene looked, just to get my breath. I had been trying to work myself up to the proper pitch to enter upon that subject again with my poor sister. But lo! here had little Sara come on her own account and got it all over. I could see at a glance that there was no more to be said.