ame to that unhappy state of mind, the consequence, as it
appeared, of Aunt Melville's zeal in her behalf.

"Why should these plans worry you?" said Jack. "I thought common sense
was your armor and decision your shield against Aunt Melville's erratic
arrows of advice."

"My armor is intact, but, for a moment, I have lowered my shield and it
has cost me an effort to raise it again, I supposed my mind was fixed
beyond the possibility of change, but this is a wonderfully taking
plan. At first I felt that if our lot had not been bought and the
foundation actually begun we would certainly begin anew and have a
house something like these plans. Then it occurred to me that in
building a house that is to be our home as long as we live, perhaps,
it would be the height of absurdity to tie ourselves down to one little
spot on the broad face of this great, beautiful world and live in a
house that will never be satisfactory, just because we happen to have
this bit of land in our possession and have spent upon it a few hundred
dollars."

"Sensible, as usual. What next?"

"Well, this last and best discovery of Aunt Melville's was undoubtedly
made like our own plan to fit a particular site, and it seems beginning
at the wrong end to arrange the house first and then try to find a lot
to suit it."

"I don't see it in that light," said Jack. "I know the architect has
been preaching the importance of adapting the plan to the lot, but if
two thousand dollars are going into the land and eight thousand into
the house, I should say the house is entitled to the first choice."

"Certainly, if it was a city lot, with no character of its own, a mere
rectangular piece of land shut in upon three sides and open at one. But
ours has certain strong points not to be found in any other unoccupied
lot in town. Besides, there are other reasons why it would not answer
for us; but _if_ our lot was right for it, and _if_ we wanted so large
a house, _how_ I should enjoy building it!"

"I don't see anything so very remarkable about the plan," said Jack,
taking up the drawings.

"My dear, short-sighted husband," said Jill with the utmost
impressiveness of tone and manner, "it is a _one-story house_. 'There
shall be no more stairs' sounds almost as delightful as the scriptural
promise of no more sea. And look at the plan itself: The great square
vestibule, or reception-room, with the office at one side--wouldn't
you enjoy that, Jack?--then a few steps h