home. Two years ago we reluctantly gave up the old house and moved into
a more modern one--also transformed from old into new--on East
Fifty-fifth Street. We have also a delightful old house in France, the
Villa Trianon, at Versailles, where we spend our summers. So you see we
have had the rare experience of transforming three mistreated old houses
into very delightful homes.

When we found this old house, so many years ago, we were very young, and
it is amusing now to think of its evolution. We had so many dreams, so
many theories, and we tried them all out on the old house. And like a
patient, well-bred maiden aunt, the old house always accepted our
changes most placidly. There never was such a house!

You could do anything to it, because, fundamentally, it was good. Its
wall spaces were inviting, its windows were made for framing pleasant
things. When we moved there we had a broad sweep of view: I can remember
seeing the river from our dining-room. Now the city has grown up around
the old house and jostled it rudely, and shut out much of its sunshine.

There is a joy in the opportunity of creating a beautiful interior for a
new and up-to-date house, but best of all is the joy of furnishing an
old house like this one. It is like reviving an old garden. It may not
be just your idea of a garden to begin with, but as you study it and
deck its barren spaces with masses of color, and fit a sundial into the
spot that so needs it, and give the sunshine a fountain to play with,
you love the old garden just a little more every time you touch it,
until it becomes to you the most beautiful garden in all the world.

Gardens and houses are such whimsical things! This old house of ours had
been so long mistreated that it was fairly petulant and querulous when I