he began to enumerate their qualities. I saw plainly that
even though women played a minor part in his life, they were the fringe
and embroidery to his success and power. At one a.m. we went to our
rooms, having touched upon most of the themes dear to metropolitan
lovers of life and art.

The next morning was wonderful--glittering, if windy. The sea sparkled
beyond the waste of sand. I noted anew the richness of the furnishings,
the greatness of the house. Set down in so much sand and facing the
great sea, it was wonderful. There was no order for breakfast; we came
down as we chose. A samovar and a coffee urn were alight on the table.
Rolls, chops, anything, were brought on order. Possibly because I was
one of the first about, my host singled me out--he was up and dressed
when I came down--and we strolled over the estate to see what we should
see.

Curiously, although I had seen many country homes of pretension and even
luxury, I never saw one that appealed to me more on the ground of
promise and, after a fashion, of partial fulfillment. It was so
unpretentiously pretentious, so really grand in a limited and yet poetic
way. Exteriorly its placement, on a rise of ground commanding that vast
sweep of sea and sand, its verandahs, so very wide--great smooth floors
of red concrete--bordered with stone boxes for flowers and handsomely
designed stone benches, its long walks and drives but newly begun, its
stretch of beach, say a half mile away and possibly a mile and a half
long, to be left, as he remarked, "au naturel," driftwood, stones and
all, struck me most favorably. Only one long pier for visiting yachts
was to be built, and a certain stretch of beach, not over three hundred
feet, cleared for bath houses and a smooth beach. On one spot of land, a
high hummock reaching out into the sea, had already been erected a small
vantage tower, open at the bottom for shade and rest, benches turning in
a circle upon a concrete floor, above it, a top looking more like a
small bleak lighthouse than anything else. In this upper portion was a
room reached by small spiral concrete stairs!

I could not help noting the reserve and _savoir faire_ with which my
host took all this. He was so healthy, assured, interested and, I am
glad to say, not exactly self-satisfied; at least he did not impress me
in that way--a most irritating condition. Plainly he was building a very
splendid thing. His life was nearing its apex. He must not only have