Roberts had. The walls were tinted with what might be called a
suggestion of pink, with just a touch of sunset gold about the
mouldings.
The carpet was soft and rich; it gave back no sound of footfall. It was
strewn with pink buds; some just opening into beauty, some half-blown.
Accustomed to the sight of elegant carpets as you are, you would almost
have stooped to pick one of these buds, they looked so real. The curtains
to the windows were white, but lined with rose pink; they were looped
back with knots of pink ribbons. The bed was a marvel of pink and white
drapery; so was the dressing-bureau. The easy-chairs were upholstered in
soft grays with a pinkish tinge; and the tidies, lavishly displayed,
were all of pink and white. There was nothing conventional about the
room. A professional would have been shocked by some of its
appointments. Many a lady of wealth, accustomed to having things as
"they" decree, would have been more than doubtful over the pink ribbons
and the profusion of white drapery. Aside from the carpet, and a choice
picture or two, there was nothing especially expensive about the
furnishings. It was simply a room in which Mrs. Roberts had allowed her
own sweet little fancies to take her captive.
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