Edwin’s desk should be wide and strong, and should have good deep drawers. This can be bought ready made for about 12l., but I can provide a similarly convenient article for 2l. 15s.; that is to say, I can provide Edwin with ideas on the subject that any small carpenter can carry out. I have had for years a writing-table made by our own carpenter which cost me 2l. 5s., and is now doing honourable service as a dressing-table in a boy’s room. It was made simply in deal, had three very deep drawers on each side, and one flat long drawer at the top; and the top was covered neatly with a piece of Japanese leather paper, which was quite as serviceable as good leather. I then had it nicely painted to match the room, added brass handles and locks, and had an extremely pretty desk or dressing-table for very little money. It is now painted a very beautiful blue, Aspinall’s hedge-sparrow’s-egg blue, and is most useful; deep drawers in a desk or dressing-table meaning comfort, for there is nothing more uncomfortable than having nowhere to put one’s things. Good inkstands—indeed, the best I know is the deep blue-and-white china one to be bought at the Baker Street Bazaar for sixpence—should never be forgotten. Two should be bought, one for red and one for black (there is no ink, by the way, like Stephens’ blue-black fluid; I cannot write without it, and always take it with me wherever I go); a box for string, filled, a post-card case, a letter-weigher, and a date-card and candlestick, and also a tray for sealing-wax, pens, ink-eraser, &c., all should find places on the desk, and above it, or on one side, should hang something to hold letters—a basket at 4½d. does beautifully; beneath it should be a wastepaper basket, and if Angelina be wise she will have a sack in a cupboard from some paper works, into which all pieces of wastepaper should be put. The sack soon fills, and from disposing of the contents there are seven shillings, which come in handily for plants, or flowers, or any of the many trifles that seem nothing to buy, but that run away somehow with so very much money—trifles making up life after all. If possible, keep a bunch of flowers on the desk. I am never without one winter or summer, and there is ample room on the desk I describe for this and also for dictionaries, two plants, and three brass pigs taking a walk, which I always use as a letter-weight.

The dining-room desk should always be looked after by the mistress herself, who should also take care that fresh ink, pens that will write, a blotting-book, and wastepaper basket are in every room in the house that is used, including the spare bedroom. Seeing to this often saves a good deal of time and temper too; for I know of nothing more irritating than to have to write a note in a hurry and have nothing handy to do it with.

The dining-room, or, indeed, any room, would not be complete without a few words on the subject of the mantelpiece, which is always rather a difficult matter to arrange; for one must have a clock there, and that means expense, unless we are content with a very charming specimen Oetzmann, of the Hampstead Road, used to sell for 25s. I have had one three, nay, four, years in my drawing-room, and it still goes excellently. It is blue, and in a tall slender black case. It is called the Chippendale clock. I dare say he keeps them still. Then there should be candles in blue and white china candlesticks, and any pretty ornaments Angelina may have, and, if none are given her, why, 1l. judiciously laid out at Liberty’s or the Baker Street Bazaar will furnish more than one mantelshelf delightfully. I could make my readers smile over my hunt sixteen years ago for some nice candlesticks if I had the time, and could contrast my difficulties then with the embarras de richesse now. But space does not allow of these digressions. Still, whatever else is done without, let us be sure to have a couple of well-filled spillcases, and a matchbox with matches in it fixed to the wall; though, if we have the ordinary marble incubus of the orthodox suburban residence to deal with, we shall have to think over the mantelpiece question most seriously, for this is indeed a burning question, and one that would daunt the stoutest heart to answer satisfactorily, and I look forward hopefully to a time when builders will eschew the expensive and ugly marble in favour of wooden mantelpieces, which are, to my mind, all they ought to be.

In the first place, a wooden mantelpiece continues, as it were, the scheme of decoration of the room, and, without being unduly prominent, makes the necessary unobtrusive frame for the fireplace that a staring white marble erection can never be. And, in the second, any stain from smoke can be washed off the painted mantelpiece, while a few days’ carelessness, a smoky chimney, or a housemaid’s unclean paws can ruin a marble mantelpiece beyond the hope of redemption; therefore on all accounts I think a wooden one is to be preferred.

Of course, some people, even in a small house, regard the possession of the marble in the light of a patent of nobility—it is so handsome (odious word), so genteel; but these belong to the hopeless class, for whom little or nothing can be done. As an illustration of what I mean, I may tell you I once was asked by one of these individuals to come down to her country house and give my opinion on the subject of some wall-papers she was hesitating between; and when I entered her drawing-room, where my lady was not, but was heard scouring about upstairs, hastily changing her dress to be fit to be seen at four o’clock in the afternoon, I saw just such a gorgeous marble erection, and, in a species of compromise between the taste of the day and the sense of proud possession given by the marble, there was a valance hung round the edge of the shelf, supported, or rather tied on, with tapes, so that the fact of the material of which the shelf was made was visible to the eye of the visitor. I could not take my eyes off it, and on learning that my opinion was asked in reference to the room in which I was, I asked about the valance, suggesting how ridiculous it looked suspended, poor thing, in mid-air, and hinting that a board would give it a reason for its existence; but this was received with so much surprise that I could not recognise how beautiful the marble was, that I got out of the room as soon as I could, knowing that here any advice I could give would be utterly thrown away. In a great house where gorgeousness, not prettiness, reigns, marble is, of course, more in place than it is with us, but I do not like it at all in our cold native land, where our grey skies and dark atmosphere cry out for colour, and I would relegate it to Italy, where it contrasts charmingly with the ardent skies and glowing air inseparable from that land of sun and flowers. I do hope some builder, who is intent on building houses for the Edwins and Angelinas of the day, may read my humble words, and, turning his back on the marble, may put up in the pretty residences that are now the rule and not the exception the simple wooden mantelpiece that lends itself so kindly to decoration, and does not assert itself like the ‘handsomer’ one does in a small house—in a manner that resembles a rich relation come to call, and reduce the poor connection to a sense of his position and utter lowliness.

The mantelpiece of wood can have one or two little shelves in the comers under the shelf itself; here can be placed cups or vases for flowers. Then comes the shelf itself, and finally the over-mantel. In one of my rooms where the slate mantelpiece is hopeless, I have covered the top with a plain board, painted turquoise blue, the colour of the room. This is edged by a goffered frill of cretonne, like the curtains, about a foot deep. It is nailed on the front of the board, and the nails hidden by a moulding, also painted blue. Over this I have a glass about two feet wide with a bevelled edge, and framed in plain deal, painted blue, and surmounted by a shelf about four inches wide, supported by two small blue brackets. Of course the frame of the fireplace ought to be blue too, and it is a sore subject, I can tell you, that it is not; but being of black slate it is not so trying as it might be—not so trying, for example, as another room would have been had I not boldly painted its odious yellow and white marble mantelpiece black, to match my paint, and so removed an eyesore that looked like nothing so much as poached eggs very badly cooked and sent to table. I did go through the farce of asking my good and indulgent landlord, who, fortunately for me, was artistic, and gave his consent freely; but I am afraid, even if he had not, I should have painted it quite as boldly, and trusted to ‘luck’ to have escaped any fearful penalty when my lease was up, and I left my decorations behind me for some one else—decorations that include another painted mantelpiece, this time a dull grey stone thing, that is quite lovely in a terra-cotta coat of paint, and its top covered, as I have just described the blue covering, with a terra-cotta painted board, and a frill of blue and white Mysore chintz.

I am always being reminded of how much a fireplace is in a room by going into quite charming chambers where nothing is wanting save and excepting a nice arrangement there. The whole room is spoiled, and the ugliness there contrasts so forcibly with the rest of the room that I can never avoid mentioning it, and begging the owner to call at Shuffery’s, in Welbeck Street, whose cheap wooden mantelpieces and tiled hearths cannot possibly be too widely known, and are cheaper than those of any other firm: though, of course, a clever draughtsman can make his own designs, and a wooden mantelpiece could be made by an ordinary carpenter, but the ‘stuff’ must be well seasoned and carefully put up, so us to have no risk of fire.

Always, if possible, have a tiled hearth and a very simple fender. A gorgeous fender is a mistake; if a tiled hearth is provided all one requires is a black frame to enclose the hearth, with two brass knobs just to brighten it up; then get some brass fire-irons and two standards at Maple’s or else at Hampton’s, where brass things are very good and cheap, and, if in any way obtainable, see your grates are Barnard’s. They save their cost in coal in a very short time, and are very pretty and simple. I have one that cost a little over 4l.; it has a simple black frame, enclosing some pretty blue and white tiles, and has firebrick sides and bottom, and is as low as the hearthstone. The fire in this grate keeps alight from about 11 A.M. until 2 P.M. in the coldest winter weather, and I have never once during that time to ring for coals. Another ordinary stove during the same hours has to be continually watched and replenished, and while the blue and white room is always hot, the other room, possessed of the all-devouring grate, is never even warm, and sometimes one end thereof is hardly above freezing point. I have an equally good grate in the drawing-room, and here a fire made up at eight burns steadily until eleven at night, and often is quite a gorgeous fire at bedtime. I believe these grates are made at Norwich, but Shuffery sends them or similar grates equally satisfactory with his wooden mantelpieces; which, by the way, are supplied with Doulton ware fenders like the tiled hearths. These save needless trouble to the servants, as they only require dusting and an occasional wash-over to be always clean.

While we are on the subject of fires, I can tell my readers of a comfortable manner to keep in a fire in a bedroom or drawing-room, when a fire is wanted, but not a ‘regular blazer.’ To insure there being a fire, line the bottom and front of the grate with a newspaper, then fill it up, nearly to the top of the fireplace, with quite small coal, on the top of this lay an ordinary fire, with nice lumps of bright coal, wood, &c., and set light to it; this fire will burn downwards steadily, and can be left to take care of itself; and then, when the room is required for use, all that is wanted is a judicious poke, and a pretty cheerful blaze rewards you, while you have the satisfaction of knowing your fire is in, and no waste of fuel to any appreciable extent is going on, should the room not be in occupation.

Before I end this chapter I may just give some few hints as to what to do with our fireplaces when a fire is not necessary though, in my own case, an open Japanese umbrella suffices, because the temperature in England changes so quickly and so often that I scarcely can feel fires are an impossibility; but quite a pretty change in the room can be made by placing the sofa or the grand piano straight across the fireplace, of course removing fender, &c., and so making it appear as if it had vanished; while another nice effect is made with putting a fender made of virgin cork instead of the ordinary one, and filling up the grate with great ferns and flowering plants or cut flowers, frequently changed, for nothing save the ubiquitous aspidistra lives comfortably in this lowly and draughty situation. The cork fender should be filled with moss, and then jam pots sunk in it full of water; in these arrange your flowers: put a hand-basin in the grate itself, and bend large leaves of the Filix mas. fern over the edges; these completely cover the bars of the grate; then large peonies can be arranged in the basin, and the whole looks like a bank of flowers. This can only be managed in a country room, where flowers are plentiful; but not a bad fire-screen is made from a wire frame with a deep flower trough in front; ivy should be trained all over the frame, and then flowers and ferns can be arranged in the trough at it small cost. Let this, however, be done only in one room in the house. Never put it out of your power to have a fire whenever you feel cold. No one knows how much illness is saved by this small precaution.

One or two things must also be remembered before we leave the dining-room altogether. Footstools must be provided, and by the side of the grate should hang a bass brush to keep the hearth tidy, a pair of bellows to coax a lazy fire, and a fan to screen any one who should dislike the blaze in their eyes; and the wall-paper will last all the longer if a Japanese paper fan is nailed in such a manner that the bristles of the brush rest on it and not on the wall; just as the carpet will last longer if the coalscuttle stands on its own small linoleum mat, which can be painted any colour with Aspinall’s paint, and will always wash clean, cheerfully every day.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE MORNING-ROOM.

If she can paint, or has any girl friend who can do so, she should now embellish her door panels with graceful pale pink flowers, remembering never to fall into that fatal and ugly mistake of drawing or representing flowers in the colours that nature herself never uses for them. There is my favourite pink flower, the flowering rush, to be remembered, and this pictured among its own surroundings, marguerite daisies and long grasses, would be admirable on the sage-green paint, and doing this will occupy Angelina nicely during those long hours that are hers when the honeymoon is over, and Edwin has once more to put his neck into the collar and set to work to keep the little house going.

I should also like Angelina to keep round her in this her own room as many reminiscences as she can procure of her old home. If she have a prudent, loving mother, I think many a little imprudence may be avoided, if a photograph of the dear face is always looking down upon her; and if she have an honoured father, his precepts will be recalled in a similar manner, and insensibly she will be helped on her way, as she was in her girlhood, by the loving counsel she can never be too old to require, live as long as ever she may.

Then there should always be something here in the shape of a desk, for Angelina will have to write letters, if only to answer invitations, though I trust sincerely she may have something better to do with her time than that. And if she can copy Edwin’s writing table, she will find it a great comfort to her, for the deep drawers will hold paper, envelopes, and the thousand and one things she should never be without; such as string, untied, not cut off parcels, and neatly rolled up in lengths, half-sheets of letters to be used for notes to familiar friends or for tradesmen’s orders, paid bills—no unpaid ones, please—and brown papers also saved from parcels, elastic bands, and answered and unanswered letters; which, if important or private, should never be left on a desk in a letter-rack, for ‘maidens’ are but mortals, and an open epistle is too tempting a thing for most servants to leave untouched and unread. Be sure and have a wastepaper basket, and somewhere in a cupboard the sack I mentioned before, in which to put the contents of the basket at once, as soon as it is full; and do not keep any letters about in your possession once they are replied to, especially if they are chatty letters about people and their sayings and doings, but destroy them at once. They are safe in the wastepaper bag; but a letter is like a ghost, and turns up when least expected, often working irreparable mischief; in fact, in these days of penny postage, a letter is only written for the moment, and should be put beyond the power of doing harm by any honourable person the moment it has answered its purpose. Remember how often one’s opinion changes. One makes friends or quarrels with an acquaintance, and writes to one’s intimates about these tiny circumstances, and no harm is done if the letter be immediately destroyed, besides which there is always the chance that death may pounce upon one, and leave one’s hoards defenceless, and our friend’s confidences at the mercy of our successors. Who re-reads old letters? Life is too rapid now for this. Once answered, tear up these amusing, compromising epistles, and beg your correspondents to do the same, and then not very much harm will be done by them after all.

In Angelina’s room there should always be some sort of a sofa. Maple has beautiful deep sofas, I think for 8l. 8s.; these can be covered with serge, or else velveteen or corduroy velvet, in a good sage-green colour or peacock blue, and finished at either end with a square pillow or cushion covered with the same; the velveteen is 2s. 6d. a yard, and wears beautifully; it is preserved too, when not in use, by throwing over it a large cover made of either guipure and muslin, costing 30s.—rather a large item—or by two or three of the striped curtains, joined. These cost 1s. 6d. each at Liberty’s, but I personally prefer the guipure, or else a large square of Madras muslin, edged with a goffered frill, or else a cheap lace. This should be folded back, should you require to lie down much on the sofa, as otherwise it soon crushes and becomes dirty and untidy. Remember, young people, I am no advocate for lying about on sofas, and I abhor idleness, but a proper amount of rest and care often saves a long illness, and there will be times in all your lives when a sofa is not a luxury but a positive necessity. A book can always be read, or work be done, for, properly pushed down at the back, the cushions support the shoulders, the while the legs are supported too, and so proper rest is obtained; and if the sofa be in Angelina’s own room, she will use it when she would think twice before going solemnly into the drawing-room, where she may be disturbed by visitors, or be, perhaps, fireless, to take the repose she may possibly have been ordered.

There should be two firm little tables, or even three, according to space. The floor should be stained about two feet all the way round, and the square of carpet should be as pretty as possible. Flowers and pot-ferns should be as much used us the money will permit, as nothing makes a room look so nice. The curtains should be cretonne and muslin underneath, arranged as I shall describe in the chapter set apart for curtains. There should be a work-table, a stand for newspapers with a paper-knife attached—tied on, in fact, and re-tied when not in use, for no possession takes quicker to its heel than does a paper-knife—and plenty of books and magazines, obtainable from a library; or by judicious exchanges among friends or acquaintances made by advertising; for it is astonishing how many papers can be seen by a clever person, who can manage to exchange the one or two she takes in for one or two more, that in their turn go on again in exchange for others; and this is neither extravagance nor waste of time, for every one should be as well read in the events of the day, as most people are in the events of bygone years; for one’s own times are, I think, quite as amusing and far more instructive than even the events of those days when there were no newspapers and nothing very much happened.

Let me beg of you all to remember two things: one is, that on no account is this little room to have gas, or to be smoked in under any pretext whatever, and that here all must be to hand that Angelina is likely to want; she must have her own duster, her sticking-plaster, her little remedies for tiny hurts, her cotton, needles, thimble, her string, her stamps, her pins, her gum, her glue, and be able to put her hand on brandy, the one spirit that I would allow inside the house, and which is a most invaluable necessary medicine; and if she be wise and her servants are tired, she will be able to give a sister or very intimate friend her cup of afternoon tea without ringing, should they come in on a busy day and require refreshment, when it would be unkind to take Jane off her work to provide it. No lady was ever the worse for making her own tea, or even washing her own teacups, and a little thought for Jane will insure Jane thinking of and for you, in a time when you may be very dependent on her for this care and thought.

The tea-things can be kept ‘handy’ behind one of the curtained recesses, and a small brass kettle can also be concealed there; but there are some rooms, alas! so evilly constructed as to be positively without recesses for the shelves, and in this case the books that Angelina will require in her own room must have a bookcase made especially for them, and the recess for the teacups must be made as in the drawing of the bookcase on this page. The best bookcases are undoubtedly the revolving American bookcases, first introduced by Messrs. Trübner, the well-known publishers, of Ludgate Hill. These hold a great many volumes, take up small room, and on the top of them china can also be placed; but they are expensive, a good-sized one costing 5l. 5s., and so, if this be out of the question, I recommend a long plain oak bookcase that I have had made for me from the design of a relative, for they hold a vast quantity of literature, and only cost the comparatively small sum of 1l. 18s. 6d. This bookcase is about eight or nine feet long, and consists of two rows of shelves, each wide enough to hold books the size of a bound volume of ‘Good Words.’ The top of the last shelf has a narrow battlement of oak just cut out in scallops to relieve the plainness and to serve as a rail to support the china that stands on the top of the bookcase; and the shelves are all edged with a two-inch frill of velveteen or cretonne to harmonise with the rest of the room. The shelves are divided into three parts, and the centre part looks very well with a velveteen curtain over it, nailed to the top shelf, and hanging in a straight line from top to bottom. Behind this curtain can be placed all sorts and conditions of things, from paper-backed shilling books, that are not in the least bit decorative, to string or gum, or the cups and saucers spoken of above, if we have no other place to use as a cupboard in the room. The shelves are hung on the wall, just resting on the dado rail, and are supported with nails driven into the wall and by the dado rail itself. On the top the big blue jugs and coarse rod pottery Rebecca jars sold by Mr. Elliot, in the Queen’s Road, Bayswater, should be placed, as then the bookcase is not only useful but remarkably ornamental.

To supplement the ordinary lack of cupboard room, it is occasionally better to have one or two low square black cupboards about. Against the wall, where a table may be put sometimes, they look very nice, and are of incalculable use. They cost very little, and if the panels are filled in, either with Japanese paper or imitation tapestry, and the top covered with a cloth and used for books, plants, or pieces of china, scarcely any one would see they were cupboards, and so you have a useful piece of furniture doing double duty, as cupboard and table, for the expense of one. I have in one corner of my especial room a most beautiful cabinet which holds all my odds and ends comfortably, and is such a success that I cannot help describing it here, although Angelina may not of course care to go to the expense, but it is so pretty and withal so inexpensive, as compared to the usual run of cabinets, that I think I may venture to recommend it to her. It fits into one corner, and is of deal, painted sparrow’s-egg-blue to match the room. It stands about five feet eight. The under part is a cupboard. Then come three deep drawers, flanked by two little shelves—two each side of the drawers. The top shelf is hidden by a small curtain of old-gold coloured velveteen, and in the under shelf stands a blue pot that cost sixpence. There is a flat shelf forming the top of the cabinet with china on, and at the back, which goes into an angle to fit the corner, is another shelf about three inches wide on which more china stands. The drawers and cupboard have brass handles and locks, and the whole thing complete, made to order and measure by Mr. Smee, cost me 8l. 8s., and I often look at it and wonder how I existed, or where I put all my papers and things generally, before I saved up money enough to buy it for myself. The chairs here can be all the deep, low, basket-work chairs, and these need not cost much, but these chairs must be bought with great care and circumspection, they are all such different shapes, and should never be purchased in a hurry—that fatal hurry that is at the bottom of so much waste and extravagance in the world; for, remember this, a thing obtained quickly and hastily seldom is the thing one really requires, and then a double outlay is necessary, or else perpetual discomfort is our portion, just because we were not judicious enough in our behaviour to take enough time over our purchases; and nowhere is hurry more fatal than in choosing one’s chairs. You young people are apt to think only for the day, and do not care to remember that a time will come when legs and backs will ache; but I know this, and this is why I want you to be quite sure that you do not get the basket-chairs that go back too far, or are too low, or too high, but that the medium chairs are chosen, in which you can rest thoroughly when they are cushioned; and furthermore supplied with an extra cushion to fill up the gap in the back, and that are not high enough to require a footstool, but yet are not low enough to send one’s feet to sleep, because of the manner in which they leave no room for the length of limb possessed by the unfortunate person who sinks into their comfortable-looking depths to rest, and cannot understand why he is so very uncomfortable when he has been there so short a time. Cretonne makes pretty covers for the cushions, which should be stuffed with wool and a little flock—all wool would make these cushions too expensive; but cretonne is not heavy enough for a man’s wear, and either tapestry or woollen brocade or serge should be used for cushions for Edwin’s accommodation. If a sofa be afforded, three of these chairs, or four at the outside, will amply furnish the little room; and they can have over their backs, as a finishing touch, an embroidered Oriental antimacassar, arranged to show both embroidered ends one above the other, and not tied in bows—a most inartistic and ugly arrangement in my eyes, and one quite useless and untidy too; for there is no doubt that a properly arranged antimacassar saves the chair cushion a great deal of the wear and tear and the rub of dusty shoulders, and need not be any trouble if a little thought is given to their arrangement, both in sitting down and rising from the chair.

If other chairs are required, higher and squarer, although I cannot think they are necessary myself in this small room, those painted blue, red, or black, and with cane seats, costing about 12s., are the best. The cane seat should be provided with a square cushion, covered in any odd pieces of damask or cretonne, and trimmed with a frill, and tied to the chair by four pairs of stout black tape strings, so that the cushion cannot slip about, as it otherwise would. These chairs would also do for the extra chairs in the drawing-room, if even the rush-seated Beaconsfield chairs at 3s. 6d. each are not pronounced quite good enough.

A very good, useful table, called the Queen Anne table, can be obtained from Oetzmann or Maple for about 25s. It is square, with square legs, and has two useful shelves, and the whole is covered in art-coloured velveteens. I have had one in very hard wear for seven or eight years, and it is now as good as the day when I bought it. I had some charming square stools made on the same plan for 7s. 6d. each, to hold large blue and yellow pots purchased at Whiteley’s for 2s. 11d. each, and filled with palms, and these standing about in odd corners or in the centre of a bow-window add very much to the appearance of any room, for nothing gives so Oriental or artistic an appearance as plenty of plants, ferns, and palms; and these need not be out of the reach of any one who cares for pretty things, because with care they last and flourish for years; while cut flowers and flowering plants are out of the reach of any of those for whom I am especially writing these papers—that is to say, unless they keep their eyes very wide open, and utilise every morsel they can beg, or pick from the hedges and fields; that even in the suburbs are not swept quite clear of daisies, grasses, and even occasionally primroses and anemones.

Footstools must be a sine quâ non in each room, and more than one or two should, if possible, be provided. The square Oriental-looking ones, at 4s. 6d., purchasable at Shoolbred’s, are very nice, but big, square, old-fashioned ones, made by the carpenter, or, better still, by Edwin, are the best of all; they do not run away from you when you put your feet on them, and their wear is everlasting. They are square frames of wood, rather heavy, and stuffed a little with flock on the top, and covered with a good stout woollen tapestry; they are quite half a yard across each way, and serve for two people if necessary. Then there are the ordinary round hassocks for 1s. 6d., covered in odds and ends of old carpets. These are soon made artistic by covering them over the carpet with artistic serges embroidered in crewels; white narcissus, or oranges and the blossoms looking very nice indeed on a terra-cotta serge; and yellow daisies or pomegranates on a peacock-blue serge being also quite charming to behold. Brackets are very useful for corners, and I especially recommend the bamboo brackets to be bought at the Baker Street Bazaar and at Liberty’s. They are so cheap and light-looking, and hold odds and ends of china so nicely, and if many pictures or photographs do not adorn Angelina’s walls, quite a grand effect can be obtained by making a bracket the centre of a scheme of decoration; elaborated from Japanese fans, that can surround the bracket like a halo, sending out branches or beams of colour from such a centre in all directions, in a manner invaluable to those who have no other means of decorating their walls.

Were I Angelina I should sit here in this tiny room, and do my work here all the morning, having every meal in the dining-room, and resolutely spending my evenings in the drawing-room. There is, of course, rather more firing required, but not more than is necessary to warm the house thoroughly, and this will save in health and spirits far more than the house coal costs. Quite a different current to one’s thoughts is given by a change of room, and a really dull feeling often disappears when one’s surroundings are changed, and one goes into a fresh pure atmosphere; for whatever the weather is, I do hope Angelina has her windows open top and bottom, and, in fact, sleeps with them open too; but this I shall say more about when I reach the bedrooms, and talk about health, which will be later on; though before I describe the papering &c. of this little room I must beg Angelina not to fall into the habit of so many young wives, of having nothing between breakfast and dinner save perhaps cake or a cup of tea, but to have a properly cooked chop or morsel of meat at the orthodox hour for luncheon. For while I know how difficult it is to do this because eating by oneself is so dull, and it does not appear worth while to have cooking done for oneself alone, I cannot too much impress upon my bride that she must remember health is the first consideration, and that very bad effects are often caused by the manner in which proper food is forgotten or gone without in the middle of the day, a matter far too many girls never think about at all.

It is almost impossible to lay down any hard-and-fast rules for the decoration of a morning-room without seeing the room itself, but I am sure no colour is so entirely satisfactory as the blue which is the exact shade of a sparrow’s egg or an old turquoise. Mr. Smee, at my express desire, keeps this blue paper, at 4s. a piece, always in stock, and a perfect room can be made by using this paper, Aspinall’s enamel paint, the exact shade of the ground of the paper, and a frieze of dead gold Japanese paper at 3s. 6d. the piece of nine yards; a frieze or picture rail painted blue unites the frieze to the ‘filling,’ and the panels of the doors, shutters, &c., should be panelled with red and gold Japanese leather paper. The painter must not be allowed to pick out or embellish the paint at all (I cannot repeat this too often), and the cornice must be one uniform cream colour. The ceiling of this room should be papered yellow and white, and curtains could be made from the yellow printed linen sold by Mr. Pither, 38 Mortimer Street, Regent Street, at 1s. a yard, and edged by ball fringe sold by Mr. Smee at 6½d. a yard.

Another arrangement for a room which had much sun could be from a sage-green paper, with a broad frieze of one of the many beautiful floral papers to be purchased nowadays, with a good deal of pink in; or better still would it be to go to Mrs. McClelland, of 33 Warwick Road, Maida Hill, W., and get her to paint a frieze of pale pink and dark red roses on American cloth; this is put up with drawing pins and taken down like a picture, and would make a most admirable wedding present; it would certainly be a joy to any bride for all her life long, and should therefore be considered by those who are about to make a marriage gift.

In this case all the paint must be sage-green, and we must get as much pink—really pink—and peacock blue with it as we can muster. Therefore, on the mantelpiece we can have a cretonne with pale pink flowers; our over-mantel and board being painted sage-green, with, if possible, sprays of pale pink chrysanthemums or roses on. And then place on the mantelshelf first a candlestick, choosing the pretty small embossed brass ones that Maple used to have at 2s. 6d. each; then a spill-case in blue and white china, always remembering to keep them full of spills—they save a great deal of waste in winter both of matches and temper; then a photograph frame, holding a home photograph of mother, father, or sisters in an oak frame (the plush and leather ones soon soil and look tawdry); then a vase for flowers—a low shape; then one of the tall sixpenny Baker Street vases, that look beautiful with a single rose or two; marguerites or fuchsias in summer; and with grasses and ferns in winter; and then the clock, continuing the same arrangement the other side; and, despite the sneers levelled at them, use Japanese fans as a background as often as you can; the colour is so invaluable a help, and, being excellently managed, goes with anything.

The doors should be painted to match the frieze, and the over-mantel should also be decorated in a similar manner, and the ceiling should be papered with a good terra-cotta and white paper. Some terra-cotta or pink should be introduced into the chair coverings, &c., but the exact shades must be carefully chosen by some one whose eye for colour can be trusted emphatically.

This room should be under the care of the housemaid, who should dust and sweep it before breakfast, and should also see to the hall. The cook will have quite enough to do with the dining-room and her own kitchen, while the drawing-room can be left to be looked after, when the bedrooms are done and the breakfast things washed up; though the ornaments and flowers must be entirely looked after by the mistress, should she only be able to begin life with two servants.

CHAPTER IX.

THE DRAWING-ROOM.

I must say I still hanker after a dado, because in the drawing-room I like to hang all sorts of odds and ends upon it, which give an original air to the room, and also insures favourite photographs, fans, or pretty hanging baskets with flowers in being close to one’s chair, or near one’s eyes, should we wish to look at them. A very pretty effect is obtained by stretching a cretonne material round the base of the wall for a dado, hiding the nails with a dado rail of bamboo. Liberty’s blue and white cretonnes are invaluable for this, but then it is rather difficult to

obtain a blue paper to match. Still it is to be done and we are repaid for the trouble, I think, by the effect when it is up. A yellow-and-white paper looks charming with a blue dado, also a terra-cotta paper and paint are not amiss, though I confess myself rather disappointed with this effect in a drawing-room I once had; but then the paint was put on in my absence, and I feel convinced it was not the shade ordered. If people are really tired of dados, and will have none of them, the walls can be papered blue to within about two feet of the top; then a frieze of pale yellow and white can be put on either of paper or cretonne, the join hidden by a rail, on which are placed hooks which hold pictures. These then are brought down to the proper level for light, and are not suspended out of vision, as are so many paintings and engravings in houses of people who are artistic enough by birth and education to know better; then, too, by using these hooks the great expense of picture-rods going all round the rooms is saved, without damaging the walls either by hammering in brass-headed nails.

I think a panelled room painted blue for a drawing-room is perfect; but unless the house that Angelina takes is panelled already, this is no use for her, as panelling is expensive work, and would be the landlord’s property, too, when the lease is up, so that is out of the question. Still, I know of panelled rooms yet existent whose owners look at their grained walls and wonder how they can make them less hideous, and perhaps some of them may see this book, and may resolve to do away with that terrible eyesore, a grained device, and set to work to paint the walls a delicate sparrow’s-egg-blue, furthermore embellished by long designs of rushes and grasses, either stencilled or painted on by some one of the many girls who can paint, and who can be found always at Mrs. McClelland’s studio, should we number not one of those useful damsels among our acquaintances. Whatever style of decoration is adopted, I hope we may have a blue wooden mantelpiece and over-mantel; brass bells, brass locks and handles to the doors, and finger-plates must replace the china abominations provided by the landlord; but these must be carefully marked down as belonging to the tenant, and the china ones must be put away carefully too, to replace the brass ones again when Angelina’s lease is up, or she will have to feel that her money has gone into the landlord’s pocket, which is never a cheerful subject for contemplation.

Now for the carpet, the style and price of which can range from 35s. 6d. to almost any amount that you like to spend. The cheapest ones are the Kidderminster squares, which can be purchased at Mr. Treloar’s, on Ludgate Hill, or at Shoolbred’s or Maple’s. In fact, at the risk of being vituperated by these gentlemen, I say, in low tones of caution, go to all of these establishments, and, taking as usual plenty of time over your choice, see all the blue carpets they have: at one or other of the shops you will be sure to see exactly what you want. I do not think the cheap squares are ever really artistic; but they are inoffensive, and most wonderfully inexpensive, and wear beautifully. Still, the colours and patterns are not quite my beau-ideal of a carpet design, but beggars cannot, alas! be choosers, and if we must really be very economical we can but be thankful for these carpets, because they replace the hideous Dutch carpeting and frightful ‘Kidderminsters’ that used to be the portion of such of our ancestors as could not afford Turkey or Axminster, and had to fall back on these, and on the ‘best Brussels,’ the crude and frightful greens and reds of which haunt my dreams sometimes, when I am meditating on furniture and remember the days that are no more; being duly and sincerely thankful that they are no more, as far as carpets and furniture in general are concerned.

Rising above the ‘squares,’ we ascend to the delightful blue carpets, also in Kidderminster, that are sold by the yard. I once possessed one which was the joy of my heart, which I bought at Shoolbred’s. But I took a friend there the other day, having roused her to enthusiasm over mine, to find no more were made; ‘for customers,’ said the polite man who served us, ‘will insist on novelties, and grumble frightfully do they see the same goods on show as they saw some years ago, whether or not that they were as pretty as they can be. No, the cry is always for some new thing.’ And so we could not buy any more of my blue carpet, and I look at the one I have apprehensively, and cannot bear any one to walk upon it, because I know, once gone, I can never replace it. It was about 4s. 6d. a yard, and wears beautifully. However, we were shown another that quite put my poor carpet out of court, both in colour and design; but then it was 5s. 6d. a yard, and though that did not matter to my friend, fortunately, it mattered to me; and so I was left carpetless, until I saw some beautiful self-coloured felt, which looks very well with rugs on, but shows dirt, and what housemaids call ‘bits,’ in rather a depressing manner. However, blue carpets are to be bought, I feel convinced, and they are certainly worth the search.[1] If money is forthcoming for a really good carpet, I should propose, first, the blue Kidderminster, at 5s. 6d. a yard, made into a square, and edged with woollen fringe, put down over, first of all, brown paper, and then a carpet-felt. This insures warmth, and trebles the chances of wear. Secondly, a really good Oriental carpet with a good deal of white in it. Mr. Smee has a charming one, that harmonises beautifully with blue, and that costs about 10l. for rather a small room. Thirdly, one could have a nice matting (putting this down over the brown paper) at about 1s. 6d. to 2s. a yard, with good rugs scattered about. These are expensive items, and would cost 8l. or 9l. to provide enough, and of the right sort; but the wear of really good rugs is marvellous. I have two large ones I bought at Treloar’s nearly ten years ago; they are in the dining-room, where there is a great deal of wear and tear, and they are as good now in appearance as the day I bought them, but I think they cost me a little over 2l. 10s. each.