"I thought it was to be a two-story house. How can one part be higher than the rest?"

"I didn't say it was to be all of the same height. Some rooms will be much higher than others because they will be larger. If a room is to be of agreeable proportions, the height must be determined by the size. It may be best to make the north side three stories high and the south only one; that would give more sunlight on the north wall of the court and make the average two stories."

"Nothing like keeping up the average. But aren't forty rooms with all the closets and storerooms, and stairways and halls, and bays and oriels and dungeons going to make a large house for one family? Can't we work the same idea on a smaller scale?"

"Of course, but that is not too large for a comfortable home for a family of moderate size. Count your fingers and try it. To begin at that end of the establishment, we want a scullery, a kitchen, and a servants' dining room; we want a breakfast room, and a large dining room for the family, and the dining room, by the way, should be one of the largest rooms in the house, say twenty-one or two feet by thirty six or forty; we want a parlor, a drawing room, a library, a billiard room and a picture gallery; a music room and ball room, these being, of course, in one, but as large as two ordinary rooms; then we want a nursery, a workroom for the children, a sick room and a sewing room, an office and a smoking room, and one or two extra sitting or reception rooms. Each member of the family should have a private sitting room and bedroom, with dressing room and bath for each suite.

That, you see, would just about suit a family of ten people without counting the servants."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A CASTLE IN SPAIN.]

"Have you made any calculation Jill, dear, as to how many people there are at present in the United States who could manage to sc.r.a.pe along with thirty-nine rooms instead of forty?"

"Why should I? This is a castle in Spain. We have plenty of money, plenty of room, plenty of time. Our only anxiety is lest there should be a lack of brains to make good use of our room and time and money."

"And what shall we build it of, jasper, sapphire and chalcedony?"

"No, burned clay and granite, steel, copper and gla.s.s. It shall be defiant of fire and flood; it shall neither burn up nor rot down."

"One thing more, Jill, when we come to make our wills to which one of the children shall we bequeath the castle?"

Before Jill could answer the door was hurriedly opened and Bessie appeared upon the threshold.

"I've just run away from Jim," she began rapidly. "We haven't had a family quarrel exactly, but we've argued it over and over, and we come out just as far apart as ever. Finally I told him I would leave it to you."

"I haven't any idea what it is all about, but did Jim agree to that?"

"I didn't give him a chance to differ. He always agrees to everything Jill says about building houses But don't interrupt me. The baby may wake up at any minute and then Jim will be helpless. The truth is he is dissatisfied with our home."

"Jim, dissatisfied; impossible!"

"Yes, he thinks it's too small."

"He wants more servants, I suppose; several additional children, a lot more poor relations, and all the various items that go to make up a well-ordered household."

"No, no; it is the house that is too small."

"Excuse me, you said the home. The house is a very different affair."

"You remember," Bessie continued, "that when it was built ten years ago Jim thought it was not large enough. Now he is determined to sell it and build a new one. There are five good rooms besides the closets, and as there is n.o.body but Jim and me and the four children and one servant, we have all the room we need. We have always been perfectly comfortable, and I can't bear the thought of selling our home."

Here Bessie began to show symptoms of dissolution, but swallowing her emotion she continued, "If we could build on a room or two as we need them I wouldn't mind it. But if you advise us to sell this house for the sake of having another, I'll"--

"We shan't advise any such thing," said Jack, "but it's perfectly natural for Jim to think you ought to have a larger, more modern house."

"But I don't want a more modern house," Bessie protested, "if there is any created thing that I despise it is a 'modern' house, made up of bay windows and crooked turrets, and shingled balconies, and peaked roofs, and grotesque little fandangoes of wood and copper and terra cotta, that have no more dignity or repose, or beauty or homelike appearance, than a crazy quilt or a Chinese puzzle. They are simply outrageous, abominable. I would sooner have the children brought up in a reform school or a house of correction."

"How would you like a colonial house?"

Bessie's indignation had spent itself, and she resumed her ordinary, but sometimes misleading manner.

"Isn't it a pity we were not all born a hundred years ago, then we might have had colonial houses. But why should I want to live in an uncomfortable old curiosity shop when I like my house just as it is?

Our trouble is that Jim wants the house twice as large as it is now and I want only one more room."

"Bessie," said Jack, in his most fatherly manner, "I am surprised that two sensible people like you and Jim should fall into such a distressing controversy over nothing, absolutely nothing. You are already in perfect accord. Jim says the house is only half large enough. You say you want one more room. The house is now just thirty-three feet long and thirty-three feet wide; add a new room thirty-three feet square; you will have the one extra room, and Jim will have the house doubled in size. Isn't that right?"

"Yes," said Jill; "It is exactly what I should have suggested if you had given me a chance. Do you remember the charming room in the old Florentine palace, where we spent the winter, and how we enjoyed it, and finally measured it for the benefit of some other Americans who intended to build a new house as soon as they got home? That was just thirty-three feet square and eighteen feet high. There was a grand piano in one corner, in another a group of chairs with bookcases, in another sofas and chairs and tables scattered about, so that in effect it was equal to several small rooms. Indeed one of our party described it in a home letter as a magnificent apartment one hundred feet each way. It would accommodate several callers, with their different groups of friends, and it was of course a capital place for music and dancing.

In your new room you will have one corner for the children and another for yourselves. The Dorcas society can meet at one side while your little Jack and his friends are playing games at the other. It won't be many years before Bessie will claim a large section, including one of the bay windows, for her own use."

"I think I hear the baby crying. Thank you, I'll talk it over with Jim.

Good night."

"Do you think they will do it?" Jack inquired.

"Of course they will; it is by far the most sensible thing. As a family they are always together and always will be, and one large room will suit them better than several small ones. Perhaps it will be the best thing for us, until we can build our castle in Spain. It certainly will not cost as much as making over and enlarging the rooms we have."

"That is true, and it is my impression that the wisest way to enlarge an old house is to nail up the windows, seal up the doors and go ahead with the additions without taking out the nails or breaking the seals till it is all done; that would save time, money and patience."

"Yes, and more than that," said Jill, "it would preserve the charm of the old house which grows stronger every year until the loss of the familiar rooms and their hallowed a.s.sociations seems like parting with a dear old friend."