or by moonlight, the place was
in truth beautiful; but the ardent citizen, loving to see his city grow,
wanted neither distance nor moonlight. He had not seen Versailles, but,
standing before the Fountain of Neptune in Amberson Addition, at bright
noon, and quoting the favourite comparison of the local newspapers,
he declared Versailles outdone. All this Art showed a profit from the
start, for the lots sold well and there was something like a rush
to build in the new Addition. Its main thoroughfare, an oblique
continuation of National Avenue, was called Amberson Boulevard, and
here, at the juncture of the new Boulevard and the Avenue, Major
Amberson reserved four acres for himself, and built his new house--the
Amberson Mansion, of course.

This house was the pride of the town. Faced with stone as far back
as the dining-room windows, it was a house of arches and turrets and
girdling stone porches: it had the first porte-cochere seen in that
town. There was a central "front hall" with a great black walnut
stairway, and open to a green glass skylight called the "dome," three
stories above the ground floor. A ballroom occupied most of the
third story; and at one end of it was a carved walnut gallery for the
musicians. Citizens told strangers that the cost of all this black
walnut and wood-carving was sixty thousand dollars. "Sixty thousand
dollars for the wood-work alone! Yes, sir, and hardwood floors all over
the house! Turkish rugs and no carpets at all, except a Brussels carpet
in the front parlour--I hear they call it the 'reception-room.' Hot and
cold water upstairs and down, and stationary washstands in every last
bedroom in the place! Their sideboard's built right into the house and
goes all the way across one end of the dining room. It isn't walnut,
it's solid mahogany! Not veneering--solid mahogany! Well, sir, I presume
the President of the United States would be tickled to swap the
White House for the new Amberson Mansion, if the Major'd give him the
chance--but by the Almighty Dollar, you bet your sweet life the Major
wouldn't!"

The visitor to the town was certain to receive further enlightenment,
for there was one form of entertainment never omitted: he was always
patriotically taken for "a little drive around our city," even if his
host had to hire a hack, and the climax of the display was the Amberson
Mansion. "Look at that greenhouse they've put up there in the side
yard," the escort would continue. "And