Life in the Eagle's Nest by Charlotte Maria Tucker

The following dawn ushered in Sunday. Walter was accustomed on that day to breakfast with Sir Cesar, and then accompany him and his daughter to church, a privilege which made him an object of envy to some young officers and civilians. Young Gurney did not on this day break the understood engagement. Those Sabbath mornings sometimes gave him an opportunity of speaking a few words on religious subjects to Flora, or reading sacred poetry, of which they both were fond. How soon these too happy mornings would become things of the past!

At the accustomed hour Walter mounted the broad flight of steps which led to the wide verandah, and pushing aside the green _chik_,* entered the drawing-room, in which were seated Sir Cesar and his daughter. What a contrast that drawing-room presented to Walter's quarters in the Eagle's Nest! The Indian mat which covered the floor was itself partly hidden under rich Cashmere rugs, tiger's skins, and the thick fur of the bear. The whiteness of the walls was relieved by painted arabesque patterns, with here and there a chromograph or well-selected print in a gilded frame. The tables were adorned with fine china, and delicate specimens of Agra's inlaid marble work. A profusion of flowers from a dozen vases filled the air with delicious perfume. In a most richly-carved ebony cabinet appeared a collection of elegantly-bound books; albums lay on one of the tables. It was the home of luxury; and everything on which the eye rested, from the grand piano to the small bird of exquisite plumage in its flower-wreathed cage, told of the presiding taste of a refined and cultivated woman. It was a fit perch for a Bird of Paradise.