ll the plans Will has ever made'--her 'Will' is an architect, you
know--'these seem to me most likely to suit you and Jack, although they
are by no means, adapted to conventional, commonplace housekeepers. In
the centre of the first floor the large hall, opening freely to the
outside world, is a sort of common ground, hospitable and cheerful,
where the stranger guest and the old friend meet; where the children
play, where the entire household are free to come and go without
formality. The furniture it contains is for use and comfort. It is
never out of order, because it is subject to no formal rules. At the
left of the hall is the real family home, more secluded and more
significant of your own taste and feeling. Instead of many separate
apartments for general family use, here are drawing-room, sitting-room,
library and parlor, all in one. This is the domestic sanctuary, the
essential family home into which outsiders come only by special
invitation. From the central hall runs the staircase that leads to the
still more personal and private apartments above, one of which belongs
to each member of the family. At the right of the hall is the
dining-room, near enough to make its contribution to physical comfort
and enjoyment at the proper time, but easily excluded when its inferior
service is not required.'

"I don't understand that," said Jill.

"I do," said Jack. "It means that the meat that perisheth ought not to
be set above the feast of reason and flow of soul; that the dining-room
ought to be convenient but subordinate, not the most conspicuously
elegant part of the establishment, unless we keep a boarding-house and
reckon eating the chief end of man. Where do you say the library is?"

"Included in the drawing-room. Probably the corner marked 'Boudoir'
contains a writing desk with more or less books and other literary
appliances. It has a fireplace of its own and portieres would give it
complete seclusion."

[Illustration: FIRST FLOOR OF WILL'S MASTERPIECE.]

"Where is the smoking-room?"

"I don't know. She didn't send the plans for the stable."

"How savage! Please go on with the letter."

Jill continued:

"'The floors of the dining-room and hall are on the same level, but
that of the drawing-room is one or two feet higher--'

"I don't like that at all. Should stumble forty times a day."

"'--which is typical of its higher social plane, makes a charming
raised seat on the platform at the foot of the stair