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boudoir was a very pretty boudoir; the curtains at the window were rich rose colour, the paper a pale pink, and the fire-place like the altar of hope—one sparkling blaze. On the mantelpiece two alabaster figures supported each a little lamp, whose flame was tinted by the stained flowers; some china ornaments, purple and gold, and a vase filled with double violets, were reflected in the mirror. On the one side was a stand of moss roses, on the other a dressing-table, and a glass à la Psyche, over whose surface the wax tapers flung a soft light, worthy of any complexion, even had it rivalled the caliph Vathek's pages, whose skins "were fair as the enamel of Frangistan." In