Mrs. Bagot had opened the doors back as far as they would go so that she could get an idea of how the front room was when it was empty, and it was nearly empty now, with the old piano gone that had taken up so much space and the sofa still to come. The sofa would be wonderful in that room. She had made a good choice. The carpet on the floor in there was beige with big pink roses on it, and the sofa was fat and beige and had room enough for almost four people. The sofa would face the fireplace. The fireplace in there was the same as the one in the back room except that the tiles in the hearth were golden brown and the brass bars in the fender were flat instead of being round and had a panel of filigreed brass in between, so that the panel of brass ran all around the hearth, just as the Greek frieze ran all around the top of the wallpaper, just under the ceiling. It was clever of whoever had decorated the house to put that frieze around to break the hard line that might have showed where the painted ceiling joined the papered wall. The wallpaper was no longer in the best of shape. After all, it had been on the walls at least fifteen years, maybe longer. But even so, the room looked very nice. And what made Mrs. Bagot wonder was that the room looked quite furnished enough with just the carpet on the floor and the table of ferns there filling the bow window that looked out onto her small front garden and beyond the garden to the narrow Dublin street. The room looked very carefree with no furniture in it. The children had walked around in there this morning as though they had found themselves in a new house. They said they never saw a room with no furniture in it before. They walked on all the part of the carpet that had been hidden by the piano, and on all the part that would be hidden by the new sofa.