And when she came nearer, she found that the smell of roses with which the room was filled came from the fire-roses on the hearth.
Her grandmother was dressed in the loveliest pale blue velvet, over which her hair, no longer white, but of a rich golden colour, streamed like a cataract, here falling in dull gathered heaps, there rushing away in smooth shining falls.

And ever as she looked, the hair seemed pouring down from her head and vanishing in a golden mist ere it reached the floor.

It flowed from under the edge of a circle of shining silver, set with alternated pearls and opals.

On her dress was no ornament whatever, neither was there a ring on her hand, or a necklace or carcanet about her neck.

But her slippers glimmered with the light of the Milky Way, for they were covered with seed-pearls and opals in one mass.