Then, for the wretched untidiness surrounding her, there could be no excuse.

Pots and pans--perhaps I ought to say vases and goblets--were rolled here and there on the foreground; a perfect rubbish of flowers was mixed amongst them, and an absurd and disorderly mass of curtain upholstery smothered the couch and cumbered the floor.

On referring to the catalogue, I found that this notable production bore the name "Cleopatra." Well, I was sitting wondering at it (as the bench was there, I thought I might as well take advantage of its accommodation), and thinking that while some of the details--as roses, gold cups, jewels, &c., were very prettily painted, it was on the whole an enormous piece of claptrap; the room, almost vacant when I entered, began to fill.

Scarcely noticing this circumstance (as, indeed, it did not matter to me) I retained my seat; rather to rest myself than with a view to studying this huge, dark-complexioned gipsy-queen; of whom, indeed, I soon tired, and betook myself for refreshment to the contemplation of some exquisite little pictures of still life: wild-flowers, wild-fruit, mossy woodnests, casketing eggs that looked like pearls seen through clear green sea-water; all hung modestly beneath that coarse and preposterous canvas.
Suddenly a light tap visited my shoulder.

Starting, turning, I met a face bent to encounter mine; a frowning, almost a shocked face it was.
"Que faites-vous ici ?" said a voice.
"Mais, Monsieur, je m'amuse." "Vous vous amusez! et a quoi, s'il vous plait?
Mais d'abord, faites-moi le plaisir de vous lever; prenez mon bras, et allons de l'autre cote." I did precisely as I was bid.