The sight of a face in the grey morning glimmer startled her still more, but, luckily, she recognized it.

After hesitation, she crossed the room in surprise and unbolted the two sashes, which opened like double doors.
"Hedwig!" said a woman's voice warily speaking, "open to me!" The girl held the sashes widely apart, muttering: "The mistress! why the mischief has she come back when we were getting on so nicely." But, letting the new-comer pass her, she tried to smoothe her face, and don the smile as stereotyped in servants as in ballet-dancers, while she continued the letting in of the daylight to gain time to recover her countenance.
Cesarine threw off a cloak, trimmed with fur, and more suitable for a colder season, but it was a sable with a sprinkling of isolated white hairs most peculiar and a present from her granduncle.

She tottered and seemed weak, for she had concluded that an affection of illness would aid her re-entrance.

As Hedwig extinguished the lamp, she sank into an arm-chair.

She curiously glanced around and inhaled with a questioning flutter of the nostrils the lasting odor of cigars and Burgundy, which the air retained.