e advisory committee. Mrs. Wiley
said that pink was foolish and was always sure to fade; and the
border, being a mass of solid roses, was five cents a yard, virtually
a prohibitive price. Mr. Wiley said he "should hate to hev a spell of
sickness an' lay abed in a room where there was things growin' all over
the place." He thought "rough-plastered walls, where you could lay an'
count the spots where the roof leaked, was the most entertainin'
in sickness." Rose had longed for the lovely pattern, but had sided
dutifully with the prudent majority, so that it was with a feeling
of unauthorized and illegitimate joy that Stephen papered the room at
night, a few strips at a time.

On the third evening, when he had removed all signs of his work, he
lighted two kerosene lamps and two candles, finding the effect, under
this illumination, almost too brilliant and beautiful for belief. Rose
should never see it now, he determined, until the furniture was in
place. They had already chosen the kitchen and bedroom things, though
they would not be needed for some months; but the rest was to wait until
summer, when there would be the hay-money to spend.

Stephen did not go back to the River Farm till one o'clock that night;
the pink bedroom held him in fetters too powerful to break. It looked
like the garden of Eden, he thought. To be sure, it was only fifteen
feet square; Eden might have been a little larger, possibly, but
otherwise the pink bedroom had every advantage. The pattern of roses
growing on a trellis was brighter than any flower-bed in June; and the
border--well, if the border had been five dollars a foot Stephen would
not have grudged the money when he saw the twenty running yards of rosy
bloom rioting under the white ceiling.

Before he blew out the last light he raised it high above his head and
took one fond, final look. "It's the only place I ever saw," he thought,
"that is pretty enough for her. She will look just as if she was growing
here with all the other flowers, and I shall always think of it as the
garden of Eden. I wonder, if I got the license and the ring and took her
by surprise, whether she'd be married in June instead of August? I could
be all ready if I could only persuade her."

At this moment Stephen touched the summit of happiness; and it is a
curious coincidence that as he was dreaming in his garden of Eden, the
serpent, having just arrived at Edgewood, was sleeping peacefully at the
house of Mrs. Br