self so ever since, but human nature is hard to
kill, and I _should_ have liked the house to look nice when Amy called!
I despise myself for it, but I foresee that that room is going to be a
continual trial. Its ugliness weighs upon me, and I feel self-conscious
and uncomfortable every time my friends come to call, but I am not going
to attempt any more changes. I wouldn't make the dear old mother cry
again for fifty drawing-rooms!"

I thought it was sweet of her to talk like that, and wanted so badly to
find a way out of the difficulty. I always feel there must be a way,
and if one only thinks long enough it can generally be found. I sat
plunged in thought, and at last the inspiration came.

"Didn't you say this room was your own to do with as you liked?"

"Yes; mother said I could have it for my den. Nobody uses it now; but,
Una, it is hideous, too!"

"But it might be made pretty! It is small, and wouldn't take much
furnishing. You could pick up a few odds and ends from other rooms that
would not be missed."

"Oh, yes, mother wouldn't mind that, and the green felting on the floor
is quite nice and new; but the paint, and the paper-saffron roses--and
gold skriggles--and a light oak door! How could you possibly make
anything look artistic against such a background?"

"You couldn't, and it wouldn't be much fun if you could. I've thought
of something far more exciting. Lorna, let us paper and paint it
ourselves! Let us go to town to-morrow, and choose the very, very most
artistic and up-to-date paper that can be bought, and buy some tins of
enamel, and turn workmen every morning. Oh, do! I should love it; and
you were saying only an hour ago that you did not know how to amuse me
in the mornings. If we did the room together you would always associate
me with it, and I should feel as if it were partly mine, and be able to
imagine just where you were sitting. Oh, do, Lorna! It would be such
ripping sport!"

She didn't speak for a good half-minute, but just sat staring up in
ecstasy of joy.

"You angel!" she cried at last. "You simple duck! How can you think of
such lovely plans? Oh, Una, how have I lived without you all these
months? Of course, I'll do it. I'd love to! I am never happier than
when I am wrapped up in an apron with a brush in my hand. I've
enamelled things before now, but never hung a paper. Do you really
think we could?"

"Of course! If the British workman can do it, there