The driver, without asking for the usual
_pour-boire_, proceeded to put up the coach in an old shed on one side
of the courtyard, while the old woman by all sorts of courteous signs
invited me to follow her. She showed the way with her wax candles
through a long, narrow passage, and up a little stone staircase.
As we passed the kitchen a couple of maids poked their heads
inquisitively through the half-open door, and stared at me, as they
winked and nodded furtively to each other, as if they had never in all
their lives seen a man before. At last the old woman opened a door,
and for a moment I was quite dazed; the apartment was spacious and
very handsome, the ceiling decorated with gilded carving and the walls
hung with magnificent tapestry portraying all sorts of figures and
flowers. In the centre of the room stood a table spread with cutlets,
cakes, salad, fruit, wine, and confections, enough to make one's mouth
water. Between the windows hung a tall mirror, reaching from the floor
to the ceiling.
I must say that all this delighted me. I stretched myself once or
twice, and paced the room to and fro with much dignity, after which I
could not resist looking at myself in such a large mirror. Of a truth
Herr Lionardo's new clothes became me well, and I had caught an ardent
expression of eye from the Italians, but otherwise I was just such
a whey-face as I had been at home, with only a soft down on my upper
lip.
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