While on the subject let us finish it. If you indulge in a regular
bay-window, make it large enough to be of real use; don't feel
constrained to build it with more than fifteen sides; remember that
two stories will not cost twice as much as one, while the second is
pretty certain to be the pleasanter; don't carry the ceiling of the
main room level and unbroken into the bay, or, because a certain one
you may have seen looks well in its place, resolve to have another
just like it, regardless of its surroundings. I sometimes fancy there
must be a factory where bay-windows are made for the wholesale trade,
all of one style, strictly orthodox, five-sided, bracketed, blinded,
painted with striped paint, and ready to barnacle on wherever
required. In the stereotyped pattern the blinds are apt to be
troublesome. If outside, they clash against each other and refuse to
be fastened open; while inside they are a mighty maze of folds, flaps,
brass buts, and rolling slats. In the first case, wide piers between
the sash are necessary; in the second, boxings for the blinds. Both
require ample room, which, fortunately, you have. Sixthly, and in
conclusion, there is no one feature which may be more charming,
combining so much of comfort and beauty, as windows of this class,
from the simple opening, pushed forward a few inches beyond the wall
face, to the broad extension of the entire room; but there be bays and
bays.

Speaking of blinds,--what shall be done with the other windows? You
will protest against concealing your elegant, single panes of
plate-glass by outside blinds,--it won't answer to hide your light
under a bushel in that way,--and yet while there is no complete finish
without well-arranged inside shutters, they alone are sadly
inefficient in rooms with a southern exposure, where light and air are