womankind I do admire but one.' I shall
listen with undivided attention to whatever you lay before my ears.
Pray go on."

"'I was fortunate enough to get a drawing of the interior of
the reception hall, which, while it is simple and inexpensive,
is also dignified and impressive. Houses often resemble
people, and you will easily recall among your friends certain
ones who, without being either wealthy or brilliant, are still
very impressive. The other rooms which we visited are ample for
your needs, as you will find it far more advantageous to
entertain but few people at a time, and those of the best
society, than to have larger and more indiscriminate
gatherings. The amount of room in the house is surprising; but
that, of course, is because it is so nearly square.'"

"That is feminine logic. A man would have said that the size of a house
determines the amount of room it contains."

"Undoubtedly he would; but it does not," said Jill, decidedly. "I can
show you houses that look large and _are_ large, that make great
pretensions in point of style, that cost a great deal of money, and yet
have no room in them. They have no place for the beds to stand, no room
for the doors to swing, no room for a piano, no room for a generous
sofa, no room for the book-cases, no room for easy stairs, no room for
fireplaces, no room for convenient attendance at the dining-table, no
room for wholesome cooking, no room for sick people, no room for fresh
air, no room for sunlight, no room for an unexpected guest. They have
plenty of rooms, apartments, cells--but no real, generous, comfortable
house room."

"I suppose Aunt Melville refers to the mathematical fact that a house
forty feet square contains more cubic feet than the same length of
walls would hold in a more elongated or irregular shape."

"By the same rule an octagon or circle would be better still, which is
absurd. No; her feminine logic is no worse than yours, and no better.
The amount of room a house contains depends neither upon its size
nor its shape. Her analogy, too, is at fault when she implies that the
outside of a house bears the same relation to the interior that
clothing bears to the person who wears it. The art of the tailor and
dressmaker has at present no other test of merit than fashion and
costliness, elements to which real art, architectural or otherwise, is
always and absolutely indifferent. The external aspect of the