I nodded again."We'll have to outbid the Automatic people.I haven't seen Bitter yet about the--about the fee.""That's all right,"said Leonard Dickinson,quickly."I take off my hat to you.You've saved us.You can ask any fee you like,"he added genially."Let's go over to--to the Ashuela and get some lunch."He had been about to say the Club,but he remembered Mr.Tallant's presence in time."Nothing's worrying you,Hugh?"he added,as we went out,followed by the glances of his employees.
"Nothing,"I said....
XVIX.
Making money in those days was so ridiculously easy!The trouble was to know how to spend it.One evening when I got home I told Maude I had a surprise for her.
"A surprise?"she asked,looking up from a little pink smock she was making for Chickabiddy.
"I've bought that lot on Grant Avenue,next to the Ogilvys'."She dropped her sewing,and stared at me.
"Aren't you pleased?"I asked."At last we are going to have a house of our very own.What's the matter?""I can't bear the thought of leaving here.I'm so used to it.I've grown to love it.It's part of me.""But,"I exclaimed,a little exasperated,"you didn't expect to live here always,did you?The house has been too small for us for years.Ithought you'd be delighted."(This was not strictly true,for I had rather expected some such action on her part.)"Most women would.Of course,if it's going to make such a difference to you as that,I'll sell the lot.That won't be difficult."I got up,and started to go into my study.She half rose,and her sewing fell to the floor.
"Oh,why are we always having misunderstandings?Do sit down a minute,Hugh.Don't think I'm not appreciative,"she pleaded."It was--such a shock."I sat down rather reluctantly.
"I can't express what I think,"she continued,rather breathlessly,"but sometimes I'm actually frightened,we're going through life so fast in these days,and it doesn't seem as if we were getting the real things out of it.I'm afraid of your success,and of all the money you're making."I smiled.
"I'm not so rich yet,as riches go in these days,that you need be alarmed,"I said.
She looked at me helplessly a moment.
"I feel that it isn't--right,somehow,that you'll pay for it,that we'll pay for it.Goodness knows,we have everything we want,and more too.
This house--this house is real,and I'm afraid that won't be a home,won't be real.That we'll be overwhelmed with--with things!"...
She was interrupted by the entrance of the children.But after dinner,when she had seen them to bed,as was her custom,she came downstairs into my study and said quietly:-"I was wrong,Hugh.If you want to build a house,if you feel that you'd be happier,I have no right to object.Of course my sentiment for this house is natural,the children were born here,but I've realized we couldn't live here always.""I'm glad you look at it that way,"I replied."Why,we're already getting cramped,Maude,and now you're going to have a governess I don't know where you'd put her.""Not too large,a house,"she pleaded."I know you think I'm silly,but this extravagance we see everywhere does make me uneasy.Perhaps it's because I'm provincial,and always shall be.""Well,we must have a house large enough to be comfortable in,"I said.
"There's no reason why we shouldn't be comfortable."I thought it as well not to confess my ambitions,and I was greatly relieved that she did not reproach me for buying the lot without consulting her.Indeed,I was grateful for this unanticipated acquiescence,I felt nearer to her,than I had for a long time.I drew up another chair to my desk.
"Sit down and we'll make a few sketches,just for fun,"I urged.
"Hugh,"she said presently,as we were blacking out prospective rooms,"do you remember all those drawings and plans we made in England,on our wedding trip,and how we knew just what we wanted,and changed our minds every few days?And now we're ready to build,and haven't any ideas at all!""Yes,"I answered--but I did not look at her.
"I have the book still--it's in the attic somewhere,packed away in a box.I suppose those plans would seem ridiculous now."It was quite true,--now that we were ready to build the home that had been deferred so long,now that I had the money to spend without stint on its construction,the irony of life had deprived me of those strong desires and predilections I had known on my wedding trip.What a joy it would have been to build then!But now I found myself:wholly lacking in definite ideas as to style and construction.Secretly,I looked forward to certain luxuries,such as a bedroom and dressing-room and warm tiled bathroom all to myself bachelor privacies for which I had longed.Two mornings later at the breakfast table Maude asked me if I had thought of an architect.
"Why,Archie Lammerton,I suppose.Who else is there?Have you anyone else in mind?""N-no,"said Maude."But I heard of such a clever man in Boston,who doesn't charge Mr.Lammerton's prices;and who designs such beautiful private houses.""But we can afford to pay Lammerton's prices,"I replied,smiling."And why shouldn't we have the best?""Are you sure--he is the best,Hugh?""Everybody has him,"I said.
Maude smiled in return.
"I suppose that's a good reason,"she answered.
"Of course it's a good reason,"I assured her."These people--the people we know--wouldn't have had Lammerton unless he was satisfactory.What's the matter with his houses?""Well,"said Maude,"they're not very original.I don't say they're not good,in away,but they lack a certain imagination.It's difficult for me to express what I mean,'machine made'isn't precisely the idea,but there should be a certain irregularity in art--shouldn't there?I saw a reproduction in one of the architectural journals of a house in Boston by a man named Frey,that seemed to me to have great charm."Here was Lucia,unmistakably.
