a
system, or if your uncle had been a bad provider. But I never could
have got on as well as I have if I had given all my mind to keeping
things in order and learning how to use new-fashioned labor-saving
contrivances. There's nothing more honorable for womankind," said Aunt
Jerusha, as she rolled up her knitting and prepared to set out on her
homeward ride, "than housework, but it ain't the chief end of woman,
and unless your house is something more than a workshop or a showcase,
it will always be a good deal less than a home."

Jill hardly needed this parting admonition, but listened to it and to
much more good advice with the respect due to one who, for nearly half
a century, had looked well to the ways of her household, whose helping
hands were always outstretched to the poor and needy, whose children
rose up and called her blessed, and whose husband had never ceased to
praise her. After her departure her niece indulged in a short season of
solemn reflection, striving faithfully to attain to that wisdom which
always knows when to protest against existing circumstances and when to
accept them with equanimity. Ultimately she reached the conclusion
that, while the house that Jack built might indeed be a thoroughly
comfortable home to one who had a contented mind, it was really her
duty in her probationary housekeeping to be as critical as possible.

Among other things the doors came in for a share of her usually amiable
denunciation. She declared they were huge and heavy enough in
appearance for prison cells, yet so loosely put together that their
prolonged existence seemed to be a question of glue. They were swollen
in the damp, warm weather till they refused to _be_ shut, and would
doubtless shrink so much under the influence of furnace heat in the
winter that they would refuse to _stay_ shut. The closet doors swung
against the windows, excluding instead of admitting the light. The
doors of the chambers opened squarely upon the beds, and there seemed
to have been no thought of convenient wall spaces for pictures and
furniture.

[Illustration: OUTSIDE BARRIERS.]

The architect's theory of doors, as expounded in one of his letters,
was simple enough: "Outside doors are barricades; they should be solid
and strong in fact and in appearance. Inner doors, from room to room,
require no special strength; they should turn whichever way gives the
freest passage and throws them most out of the way when they are open.
Seclu