From the window as she lay there, her eyes strayed all round the room, and everything that they saw set her wondering afresh. It was a very nice little bedroom. The wall-paper was white, with little bunches of wall-paper flowers tied with blue ribbon all over it--the kind of wall-paper that does not look like anything but what it is and is therefore happy and restful, and very different from the wall-paper that was there when Prue had measles last year. That had a curly, twisted pattern on it which, when Prue had fever, turned into animals and frightened her; and then it was badly hung in some places, and Prue would lie there for hours wishing that it fitted and longing to get up and alter it. But the new paper was gay and properly pasted on, and Prue liked it very much. On the walls were a few pictures--one or two coloured ones from the Christmas numbers in cheap frames (glass again!) and the "Angels' heads," by Sir Joshua Reynolds from the National Gallery, and the little King Philip on his pony, by Velasquez, from the Wallace Collection, and an illuminated text from Aunt Mildred, very beautifully done in gold and water-colours--"The Lord is my Shepherd," and a Shakespeare date calendar. There were ornaments on the mantelpiece--a gaily-painted wooden figure from Munich, two Japanese vases, a tiny cat and a tiny dog in brass, painted just like life, from Vienna, and a serpentine cup from the Lizard. In the fire-place was coal and wood all ready to be lit when Prue had a cold. Before the window was her dressing-table with a mirror over it, and her brush and comb and so forth on little mats with fringe round them. Then there were the curtains, and the blind, and the wardrobe of white wood with a little painted pattern, and the chest of drawers, and the washing-stand with soap and toothbrush and so forth, and the chairs. There was also a little hanging bookshelf, and on the floor was a bright green carpet. Prue lay in her little brass bed and looked at these things one by one while the sun continued to pour through the windows and the time to get up came nearer and nearer. And all the while she was getting up she was thinking about these things, and how they were made, and where they came from, and when she came downstairs she told her father about it.