WOMAN'S HOME old Dutch marqueterie cabinet or so, and a sparing use of yellow and orange flowers — with these you get the effect of sunlight, even on a day of fog. Melancholy is banished from such a room, and that, I take it, should be the object of all inteUigent furnishing, which aims at comfort before everything else. Yes ; to make a house in the homelier sense home, I would make comfort, simplicity, and elegance the watchwords — ^the comfort that comes of restful, harmonious colouring, of deep easy-chairs and couches ; the simplicity that does away with everything not making directly for bodily comfort, or mind refresh- ment ; the elegance that corrects the redun- dant, creates the right atmosphere, gives the individual touch to a room that is equivalent to the inspired detail that makes the " chou " of a woman's successful toilette. Then the lighting of the room forms an important part of the colour scheme. Many a quite harmonious room is ruined, either from the point of comfort or effect, by lights placed too high and shades of the wrong colour. To seat people in frocks (presumably of different shades) round a table dressed with a particular colour, and then suspend over them a lamp that not only flashes the electric lights full into their unhappy eyes, but whose inadequate petticoat is of an un- becoming tint, is to neglect the very first duty of a hostess, and to ensure her com- plete failure as a dinner-giver. It is impossible to have too diffused a light to feed by, just as for reading, writing, and working, it cannot be too concentrated. The wise woman does not stop at making her dwelling-rooms beautiful, and lighting them properly ; she furnishes every bedroom as a sulking retreat, with an easy-chair, a sofa, a bookshelf, and a writing-table, and I think every boy and girl should be encouraged to save up and buy one good bit of furniture for his or her sanctum. I never see such a piece thankful that its owner has something to show for his money, instead of its being frittered away in useless things that at the end of the year appear in " current ex- penses," usually doubhng the legitimate outlay he had planned for himself. And so I say, cut your taxis, save when you can, say " No " to a new frock or suit of clothes, and buy some- thing really good, but don't buy anything because it is very old; I have my own opinion as to the ill-luck pursuing persons who annex curios, say a couple of thou- sand years old. They have a history, and usually a grim one, to have been so carefully preserved. Chippendale is without be still some wonderful bits to be found after diligent search here and there. To me rather a bare room, like a tree in winter, appeals very strongly ; but it must be beautifully bare. In one I have seen there was literally nothing but a few exquisitely carved chairs, an equally beautiful quaintly shaped buffet, and a table of the same golden- brown wood as the chairs. The walls were of some pale, cool colour, with sconces, and flat pink shades against the electric lights, and the curtains were of ivory silk. But if I love beautiful bareness I detest those naked, "unco' clean" houses, whose cleanliness is beyond godliness, beyond taste, and far, far beyond the comfort that poor humans love. Do we not" all know homes where the " house-proud " mistress resents a speck of dust on her furniture, where fires end early, and begin late, where a scrap of paper thrown into the grate is pounced upon and reproachfully conveyed to the paper-basket ? Do we not balance in our minds this house against the easy-going one where comfort comes miles before clean- liness, and half-sneakingly (for we love to be clean) give the latter our preference ? The more especially as often in the untidy one we get the kindly atmosphere that, after all, counts for more than anything else, and that somehow is seldom, or never, found with the ingrained, vulgar, colour-bHnd people, who would perish in any but their own vulgar surroundings. You go to a house ; your bedroom is airy, clean, chilly even, though it has flowers in it, and you shiver. Why ? Because the atmos- phere of a kind hostess is missing, which is the heart of hospitality. You feel her influence in every chair and table, or you do not — some of herself has been withheld or given into every- thing there ; you sleep badly or the reverse, unconsciously repelled or refreshed by the per- vading influence about you . And I must con- fess that, in my own experience, heart mostly spells intelligence, and inteUigence, taste. far enough back for me, and, notwithstanding the enormously mounting prices, there are The ccmfcrt that comes of restful, harmonious colouring, and of dsep, easy chairs ' To be continued in Part 2 oj Every Woman's Encyclopedia.
