"There are two sunny windows to begin with," says the good fairy, with an appreciative glance. "That insures flowers all winter."
"Yes," says John; "I never would look at a house without a good sunny exposure. Sunshine is the best ornament of a house, and worth an extra thousand a year.
"Now for our wall-paper," says she. "Have you looked at wall-papers, John?"
"Yes; we shall get very pretty ones for thirty-seven cents a roll; all you want of a paper, you know, is to make a ground-tint to throw out your pictures and other matters, and to reflect a pleasant tone of light."
"Well, John, you know Uncle James says that a stone-color is the best,—but I can't bear those cold blue grays."
"Nor I," says John. "If we must have gray, let it at least be a gray suffused with gold or rose-color, such as you see at evening in the clouds."
"So I think," responds she; "but better, I should like a paper with a tone of buff,—something that produces warm yellowish reflections, and will almost make you think the sun is shining in cold gray weather; and then there is nothing that lights up so cheerfully in the evening. In short, John, I think the color of a zafferano rose will be just about the shade we want."
"Well, I can find that, in good American paper, as I said before, at from thirty-seven to forty cents a roll. Then, our bordering: there's an important question, for that must determine the carpet, the chairs, and everything else. Now what shall be the ground-tint of our rooms?"
"There are only two to choose between," says the lady,—"green and maroon: which is the best for the picture?"
"I think," says John, looking above the mantel-piece, as if he saw a picture there,—"I think a border of maroon velvet, with maroon furniture, is the best for the picture."