o tiny little openings high
on the wall at one end of the room, but it would take imagination to
call them windows. The room was on the top floor, and the real light
came from a skylight. You can imagine the difficulty of making such a
little box interesting. However, there was one thing that warmed my
heart to the little room: a tiny ante-room between the hall proper and
the room proper. This little ante-room I paneled in yellowish tan and
gray. I introduced a sofa covered with an old brocade just the color of
dried rose leaves--ashes of roses, the French call it--and the little
ante-room became a fitting introduction to the dining-room within.

The walls of the rooms were paneled in a delicious color between yellow
and tan, the wall proper and the moldings being this color, and the
panels themselves filled with a gray paper painted in pinky yellows and
browns. These panels were done by hand by a man who found his
inspiration in the painted panels of an old French ballroom. As the
walls were unbroken by windows there was ample space for such
decoration. A carpet of rose color was chosen, and the skylight was
curtained with shirred silk of the same rose. The table and chairs were
of painted wood, the chairs having seats of the brocade used on the
ante-room sofa. The table was covered with rose colored brocade, and
over this, cobwebby lace, and over this, plate glass. There are two
consoles in the room, with small cabinets above which hold certain
_objets d'art_ in keeping with the room.

Under the two tiny windows were those terrible snags we decorators
always strike, the radiators. Wrongly placed, they are capable of
spoiling any room. I concealed these radiators by building two small
cabinets with panels of iron framework gilded to suggest a graceful
metal lattice, and lined them with rose-colored silk. I borrowed this
idea from a fascinating cabinet in an old French palace, and the result
is worth the deception. The cabinets are nice in themselves, and they do
not interfere with the radiation of the heat.

I have seen many charming country houses and farm houses in France with
dining-rooms furnished with painted furniture. Somehow they make the
average American dining-room seem very commonplace and tiresome. For
instance, I had the pleasure of furnishing a little country house in
France and we planned the dining-room in blue and white. The furniture
was of the simplest, painted white, with a dark blue line for
dec