Perhaps she had been impelled to a choice of lively colours as being
symbolical in their brightness of the new life on which she was about
to embark. There was a green cloth rendered still more hideous by
being inlet with medallions of pink silk, a cornflower blue with much
silver braid already becoming tarnished in the few times it had been
worn, and a mauve and orange adorned with flamboyant Eastern embroidery.
When she had tumbled them all out they showed a vivid patch of
ill-assorted tints. Arithelli shivered as she sat back on her heels on
the floor, and looked round the sordid room. The excitement of her
arrival had worn off, and the element of depression reigned supreme in
her mind. Certainly the apartment, which was supposed to be a
bed-sitting-room, but which was merely a bedroom, was not enlivening to
contemplate. No carpet, dirty boards, a large four-poster bed canopied
with faded draperies against the wall facing the window. There was a
feeble attempt at a washstand in a small alcove on the left, furnished
with the usual doll's house crockery affected on the Continent,--no
wardrobe and no dressing table.
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