While staring at the door which the spidery fingers had thrown open for her the night before and faint-heartedly recalling the incidents of the arrival, Lilly was overpowered, there in the midst of her gay glory, by a feeling of strangeness and solitude, which nearly broke her heart. She rapidly put on the morning gown, which Miss von Schwertfeger must have unpacked and hung next to Lilly's bed after she had fallen asleep. The third door had still to be investigated. Lilly hoped it would lead out into the open. She cautiously turned the knob and drew back with a little cry. What she saw fairly dazzled her. A small room flooded with sunlight and filled with flowers smiled at her like a tiny paradise. Azaleas as tall as a man spread their rosy coronets over a much-becushioned couch. And there was a dear little secrétaire inlaid with mother-of-pearl and tortoise shell, over the top of which a palm placidly waved its flattering fronds. But that was by no means the most beautiful thing. The most beautiful thing was the toilet table, which sent a lovely, shamefaced greeting to her from the corner where it stood. It was draped with white lace and the surface was covered with a large, smooth, even-edged plate of glass. The mirror was tall and composed of three adjustable faces, so that you could see yourself on all sides--the hair at the back of your neck, the fastening of your dress, everything. Lilly had long desired such a mirror, but had not dared to ask for it. The room, doubtless, was her "boudoir." She, Lilly Czepanek, owned a "boudoir!" Was the wonder conceivable? On the glass plate lay all sorts of things which you couldn't take in at first glance, yet expanded your eyes and your soul like a divine revelation. There were ivory-backed brushes--three--four--of varying degrees of hardness or softness; an ivory-backed hand-mirror with a charmingly carved handle, a powder puff in an ivory box, a glove buttoner, a shoe horn, everything of silver and ivory. And many more things, mysterious in their functions, the significance of which would have to be learned gradually. On each shone resplendent the gold monogram L. M. with a seven-pointed coronet above. It was enough to set one wild. After having inspected her treasures to her heart's content, Lilly prepared to extend her expedition of conquest to outlying districts. The room in which she was had only one window, or, rather, a glass door, leading to a balcony, on which there was a rocking chair, and the high railing of which was partly overgrown with young creepers. Later in the season, when the leaves had unfolded all the way, a person standing on the balcony would be completely screened by walls of green; but now, in early spring, there was still so much space between the shoots that he might easily be seen from below. Lilly softly opened the casement door and slipped out into the open air.