In this mirror I saw myself laid, not in bed, but on a sofa.

I looked spectral; my eyes larger and more hollow, my hair darker than was natural, by contrast with my thin and ashen face.

It was obvious, not only from the furniture, but from the position of windows, doors, and fireplace, that this was an unknown room in an unknown house.
Hardly less plain was it that my brain was not yet settled; for, as I gazed at the blue arm-chair, it appeared to grow familiar; so did a certain scroll-couch, and not less so the round centre-table, with a blue-covering, bordered with autumn-tinted foliage; and, above all, two little footstools with worked covers, and a small ebony-framed chair, of which the seat and back were also worked with groups of brilliant flowers on a dark ground.
Struck with these things, I explored further.

Strange to say, old acquaintance were all about me, and "auld lang syne" smiled out of every nook.

There were two oval miniatures over the mantel-piece, of which I knew by heart the pearls about the high and powdered "heads;" the velvets circling the white throats; the swell of the full muslin kerchiefs: the pattern of the lace sleeve-ruffles.