“It don’t!”
“What possible fault can you find with it?”
“It don’t suit me. How could you do such a thing, Paley, as to hire a house and furnish it, without saying a word to me?”
By this time I had come to the conclusion that it was very stupid in me to do it.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, you have surprised me,” she snapped, with such a sweet expression of contempt that I was almost annihilated. “Do you think a lady has no will of her own? No taste, no judgment, no fancy? How could you be so ridiculous as to furnish a house without asking my advice? Could you have found a homelier carpet in Boston, if you had looked for one, than this very carpet under our feet?”
“Buckleton said it was the handsomest one in the city, and the neatest pattern.”
“Then Buckleton has no taste. No one can select a carpet for a woman. What did you put that cold oil-cloth on the entry for? I should think you imported it from the polar regions on purpose to give me a chill every time I see it! The figure in the parlor carpet is large enough for a room a hundred feet square. That great blundering tete-a-tete is fit for a bar-room, but not for a parlor. There is no end to the absurdities in this house.”
“Now, really, dearest Lilian, I was sure you would be pleased with every thing,” I pleaded.
“You are a stupid, Paley Glasswood.”