of
furniture or ornament, as Bessie's friend built her parlor to suit the
rug, the result of such contriving is apt to be discouraging if not
disastrous.
"Two things we must surely have," said Jill, "which the architect has
not sent; one, an old fashion, the other, a new one. We must have
'chair rails,' in every room down stairs that has not a solid wainscot,
if I have to make the plans and put them up myself. We must also have
another band of wood higher up entirely around every room in both
stories, to which the pictures can be hung."
"Perhaps the architect will object to this as interfering with his
plans."
"He cannot, for they belong to our side of the house; they are matters
of use, not of design. He may put them where he pleases, within
reasonable limits, and make them of any pattern, with due regard to
cost. He may treat one as part of the dado, the other as a member of
the cornice, if he chooses, but we _must_ have them--they are
indispensable."
"They are also dangerous, because they are fashionable."
"Yes, an illustration of the temporary agreement of fashion and common
sense. But things of real worth do not go out of fashion; fashion goes
out of them; henceforth they live by their own merit and no one
questions their right to be."
"Have you written to Bessie?"
"Written to Bessie? What for?"
"Why, to come and get ready to start on her mission."
"No, indeed; I supposed you had forgotten that absurd notion."
"Not at all absurd. I mentioned it to Jim, and he was delighted.
Offered to go up and escort her down. He said they could go out in a
different direction every day and do a great deal of good in the course
of a week."
"Jack, I am ashamed of you! Don't mention the subject to me again."
"What shall I say to Jim?"
[Illustration: WOOD PANELS FOR WALLS AND CEILINGS, WITH IRREGULARITIES
IN LEATHER, PAINT AND PAPER.]
"You needn't say anything to Jim. Tell him I am going to invite Bessie
to visit us in the new house, and if he is in this part of the world I
will send for him at the same time."
"And that will be a full year, for the house is hardly begun."
"Yes, a full year."
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE HOUSE FINISHED AND THE HOME BEGUN.
It was indeed a full year for Jill before Bessie received the promised
invitation. Not merely full as to its complement of days, but full of
new cares, interests and activities. It is needless to say it was also
a happy y
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