r the room. Eyes and mouth recovered only
downstairs among the carpets, where they again asserted themselves by
insisting on a Kidderminster with a slender pattern of blue on a drab
ground; though Ranny's mother had advised the black and crimson. Ranny's
mother contended almost with passion that drab showed every stain. But
Violet would have that carpet and no other.

And when by struggles and by prodigies of strength on Ranny's part, and
on the part of Woolridge's men, by every kind of physical persuasion,
and by coaxing, by strategy and guile, all that furniture from seven
distinct departments was at last squeezed into Granville--well, there
was hardly room to turn round. Granville, that would have held its own
under any treatment less severe, was overpowered by Woolridge's.

* * * * *

"What's wrong with it?" said poor Ranny, as they stood together one
Saturday evening and surveyed their front sitting-room. He couldn't see
anything wrong with it himself.

They had been married that morning. Ranny had had to bring his bride
straight from her father's house to Granville. There could be no going
away for the honeymoon. Woolridge's wouldn't let Ranny go till the sales
were over.

It was only a minute ago that he had had his arm round Violet's waist,
and that her face had pressed his. It seemed ages. And suddenly Violet
had shown sulkiness and irritation. He couldn't understand it. He
couldn't understand how she could have chosen their first hour of
solitude for finding fault with the arrangement of the room. He himself
had been distinctly pleased; proud, too, of having furnished throughout
from Woolridge's, in a style that would last, and at a double discount
which he owed to his payment in ready money, and to his connection with
the firm.

Now he faced a young woman who had no understanding of his pride and no
pity.

"It's _all_ wrong," said she. "And I'll tell you for why. It's too
heavy. You should have furnished in bamboo."

"Bamboo? Sham-poo! It wouldn't last," said Ranny.

"Who wants the silly things to last?" said Violet.

"Come to that, you never let on it was bamboo you wanted."

"How could _I_ know what I wanted? You rushed me so, you never gave me
time to think."

"Oh, I say," said Ranny, "what a tiresome kiddy!"

With that he kissed her, and between the kisses he asked her, with
delirious rapidity: "Who gave you a drawing-room suite? Who gave you a
nice house? W