fVOMAN'8 HOME but where you place the flowers. You may be just as vulgar in your distribution of them as if you crowded too much furniture on your floors, or had all the dinner dishes put at once upon your table. Flowers require isolation to show off their beauty as much as do ohjets d'urt, and because your garden is full there is no reason why the house should suffer from a plethora of unsuitable ones. I have seen an exquisite interior ruined by hard, staring-eyed Marguerite daisies, a flower that should never be used save when sparingly mixed with poppies, and then only in a particular place. I would rather sit down in a white-washed room, with a chair and a table that holds a bunch of flowers that delight me with their mauves shading into purples, or their pinks into scarlets, than in one where the balconies riot in colour, every jar, pot, and pipkin holds a flowering plant, or cut nosegay, till, in the confusion of scents, not one is able to emerge clearly out of the prevailing sickly sweetness. There should be growing plants in every room, but merely as a background, like the carpet or the walls. In the most exquisite room that I think I have ever entered, the final touch of distinction, of perfection, was given by one vase of blue sweet-peas. In thinking of it afterwards, it seemed to me that all the harmony, the loveliness of the details of that room, was summed up in the one note of colour struck by those tall, blue sweet-peas. The sun plays an important part in all colour schemes, and I am a sworn foe to lace curtains, shutting out Hght and air that by day should be free to enter. At night, the chintz or satin curtains should be wide enough to draw completely across the windows, and beautiful enough to make it a pleasure to sec their pattern and their colour against the walls, which, for preference, should be white. White shows up good furniture (which is almost uniformly dark) as does no other background — it is cheery, healthful, attracts sunlight, and gives one a free hand in the dominating note of colour — blue, rose, or what not — that you may have decided on. Of course, a blue paper is necessary for that thing of beauty, a blue room ; but for houses and flats of moderate dimensions, a white-striped paper for dining and drawing rooms, white Lincrusta Walton (varnished) for the hall make the best background, especially where engravings are used. White gets dirty, you say ; on the contrary, it lasts much longer, shows marks far less than the dark papers, that have a knack of wearing white in places. I confess I always long to see Piccadilly take itself in hand, and from Stratton Street to Hyde Park Corner literally whitewash itself. Venice itself would not be able to show a fairer, more picturesque sight. I would plead for more and more whitewash in our sunless country ; to surround ourselves with white would be to supple- ment as far as possible the source of all light, heat, and happiness. A room that is all golds and shades of orange appeals strongly to me. An old- fashioned gold-leather paper, all burnished gold, deep yellow or orange satin hangings, a very dark carpet, and quiet easy-chairs, an This delightful blue room is regarded by Miss Helen Mathers as a periect examplt in furnishing
