as if it were made merely to be useful? "But what a distinct period
these things belong to, don't they?" she asked, feeling her way.
"So--so solid!"

"Yes, in a way it was an ugly period," said Mrs. Burgoyne, placidly.
"But very comfortable, fortunately. Fancy if he had selected Louis
Quinze chairs, for example!"

Mrs. White gave her a puzzled look, and smiled.

"Come now, Mrs. Burgoyne," said she, good-naturedly, "Confess that
you are going to give us all a surprise some day, and change all
this. One sees," said Mrs. White, elegantly, "such lovely effects in
New York"

"In those upper Fifth Avenue shops--ah, but don't you see lovely
things!" the other woman assented warmly. "Of course, one could be
always changing," she went on. "But I like associations with things-
-and changing takes so much time! Some day we may think all this
quite pretty," she finished, with a contented glance at the
comfortable ugliness of the drawing-room.

"Oh, do you suppose we shall REALLY!" Mrs. White gave a little
incredulous laugh. She was going pretty far, and she knew it, but as
a matter of fact, she was entirely unable to believe that there was
a woman in the world who could afford to have what was fashionable
and expensive in household furnishings or apparel, and who
deliberately preferred not to have it. That her own pretty things
were no sooner established than they began to lose their charm for
her, never occurred to Mrs. White: she was a woman of conventional