In the bright sunlight, the big square room stood forth in all its prim orderliness. "It is ugly," Pauline decided, shaking her head disapprovingly, but it had possibilities. No room, with four such generous windows and—for the fire-board must come out—such a wide deep fireplace, could be without them.
She turned, as her mother came in, duly attended by Patience. "It is hideous, isn't it, mother? The paper, I mean—and the carpet isn't much better. It did very well, I suppose, for the visiting ministers—probably they're too busy thinking over their sermons to notice—but for Hilary—"
Mrs. Shaw smiled. "Perhaps you are right, dear. As to the unattractiveness of the paper—"
"We must repaper—that's sure; plain green, with a little touch of color in the border, and, oh, Mother Shaw, wouldn't a green and white matting be lovely?"
"And expensive, Pauline."
"It wouldn't take all the twenty-five, I'm sure. Miranda'll do the papering, I know. She did the study last year. Mother, couldn't we have Jane in for the washing and ironing this week, and let Miranda get right at this room? I'll help with the ironing, too."
"I suppose so, dear. Miranda is rather fussy about letting other people do her regular work, you know."
"I'll ask her."
"And remember, Pauline, each day is going to bring new demands—don't put all your eggs into one basket."
"I won't. We needn't spend anything on this room except for the paper and matting."