The fifth was too high, and the second too expensive; but the third seemed likely to suit me.

The _suite_ consisted of a bed-room, dressing-room, and tiny _salon_, and was furnished with the elegant uncomfortableness characteristic of our French neighbors.

Here were floors shiny and carpetless; windows that objected to open, and drawers that refused to shut; mirrors all round the walls a set of hanging shelves; an ormolu time piece that struck all kinds of miscellaneous hours at unexpected times; an abundance of vases filled with faded artificial flowers; insecure chairs of white and gold; and a round table that had a way of turning over suddenly like a table in a pantomime, if you ventured to place anything on any part but the inlaid star in the centre.

Above all, there was a balcony big enough for a couple of chairs, and some flower-pots, overlooking the street.
I was delighted with everything.

In imagination I beheld my balcony already blooming with roses, and my shelves laden with books.