She was obliged to open them for another peep at the dear little white dressing-table with its crystal candlesticks, that looked like twisted icicles.

And she must see that darling little heart-shaped pin-cushion again, and all the dainty toilet articles of gold and ivory.
Then she could not resist another glance at the white Angora rugs lying on the dark, polished floor, and the white screen before her wash-stand with sprays of goldenrod painted across it, looking as natural as if they had grown there.
Once she got up and pattered across the room in her nightgown to sit a moment before the little writing-desk in the corner, and handle all its dainty furnishings of gold and mother-of-pearl.

There were thin white curtains at the windows, held back by broad bands of yellow ribbon.

They stirred softly with every passing breeze, and fluttered and fluttered, until by and by, watching them, Betty's eyelids fluttered, too, and she closed them drowsily.
While she slept she dreamed that she was back in the cuckoo's nest again, in her bare little room in the gable, and that a great white and yellow daisy stood over her, shaking her by the shoulder and telling her that it was time to go down and wash the breakfast dishes.

Then the broad white petals began to fall off one by one, and it was Davy's face in the centre.