er face as if his eyes
could never leave the lovely outlines showing clear in the light from the
windows, then turned away and strode off toward the station without a look
behind.

XXI.--EVERYBODY GIVES ADVICE

"I should do it in brown leather," said Cathcart decidedly, looking about
him.

He stood in the centre of Anthony's den. The carpenters had gone, the
plasterers had finished their work, and the floor had just been swept up.

"You're all right as far as you go," observed Anthony, who stood at his
elbow, "but you don't go far enough. If you want me to hang these walls
with brown leather you'll have to put up the money. I may be sufficiently
prosperous to afford the addition to my house, but I haven't reached the
stage of covering the walls with cloth-of-gold."

"Burlap would be the thing, Tony," Judith suggested.

Anthony was surrounded by people--the room was half full of them, elbowing
each other about.

"Paint the walls," advised Lockwood.

"There are imitation-leather papers," said Cathcart, with the air of one
condescending to lower a high standard for the sake of those who could not
live up to it.

"I suppose so," admitted Anthony, "at four dollars a roll. I saw a simple
thing on that order that struck me the other day at Heminways'. I thought
it might be about forty cents a roll. It was a dollar a square yard. I
told them I would think it over. I haven't got through thinking it over
yet."

"You want a plate-rail," said Wayne Carey.

"What for?"

"Why, to put plates, and steins, and things on."

"Haven't a plate--or a stein. Baby has a silver mug. Would that do?"

Cathcart smiled in a superior way. "You had a lot of mighty fine stuff in
your Yale days," he remarked. "Pity you let it all go."

"I shouldn't have cared for that truck now," Anthony declared easily,
though he deceived nobody by it. Most of them remembered, if Cathcart had
forgotten, how the college boy had sacrificed all his treasures at a blow
when the news of his family's misfortunes had come. It had yielded little
enough, after all, to throw into the abyss of their sudden poverty, but
the act had proved the spirit of the elder son of the house.

"You certainly will want plenty of rugs and hangings of the right sort,"
Cathcart pursued.

Anthony looked at him good-humouredly. "I can see that you have got to be
suppressed," he said, with a hand on Stevens's collar. "I can tell you in
a breath just what's going into th