to lose, not his. It was his turn to acquire, and he had every intention
of doing so. He had a glorious evening, till the shops shut. Then he went
home, and found that the daffodils had come, and he filled the room with
them, converting its dingy ugliness into a shining glory. Then he took
down all the horrible pictures and texts and stacked them behind the
sofa, awaiting the arrival of the Japanese paintings. He thought Thomas
would like the paintings as much as he did himself. Their room in future
should be a bright and pleasant place, fit for human beings to live in.
He cleared the chimney-piece of its horrid, tinkling ornaments to leave
space for his brown pottery jars full of daffodils. He put the ornaments
with the pictures behind the sofa, and when the Girl came in with his
supper requested her at her leisure to remove them.

"I have been getting some new pictures, you see," he told her, and was
annoyed at the way her round eyes widened. Why shouldn't he get as many
new pictures as he chose, without being gaped at?

There was more gaping next day, when his purchases were sent up. He had
warned his landlady and the Girl beforehand, that they might not tell the
messengers it must be a mistake and send them away, on what would, no
doubt be their stupid and impertinent impulse. So they gaped and took
them in, and Peter hurried back early from his work and fetched Thomas
in to watch him open parcels and admire the contents. He spread bright
rugs over the horse-hair sofa and chairs, and flung big soft cushions
about them, and said "Hurrah! The first time I've been really comfortable
since I left Cambridge." Then he bathed Thomas and put him into a new
little soft cambric night-shirt, and put him to bed in the rocking-cradle.
Thomas was delighted with it all. He had no doubt inherited Peter's
love of all things bright and beautiful, and now for the first time he
had them.