She put on her richest garment, a handsome gown of dark blue silk and velvet.

A spray of mistletoe-berries was in her black hair, and a glittering necklace of fine sapphires enhanced the beauty and whiteness of her exquisite neck and shoulders.

She was delighted with the effect of her own brave apparel, and also a little excited with the course events had taken, or she never would have so far forgotten the privileges of her elder birth as to visit Charlotte's room first on such an important personal occasion.
Charlotte was still wrapped in her dressing-gown, lazily musing before the crackling, blazing fire.

Her hands were clasped above her head, her feet comfortably extended upon the fender, her eyes closed.

She had been a little tired with buffeting the storm; and the hot tea, which Mrs.
Sandal had insisted upon as a preventative of cold, had made her, as she told Sophia, "deliciously dozy." "But dinner will be ready in half an hour, and you have to dress yet, Charlotte.