The Back Bay spread its glassy sheet before them,
empty but for a few small boats and a large schooner,
with her sails close-furled and dripping like snow from
her spars, which a tug was rapidly towing toward Cambridge.
The carpentry of that city, embanked and embowered
in foliage, shared the picturesqueness of Charlestown in
the distance.

"Yes," said Lapham, "I go in for using the best rooms
in your house yourself. If people come to stay with you,
they can put up with the second best. Though we don't
intend to have any second best. There ain't going to be
an unpleasant room in the whole house, from top to bottom."

"Oh, I wish papa wouldn't brag so!" breathed Irene to her sister,
where they stood, a little apart, looking away together.

The Colonel went on. "No, sir," he swelled out, "I have
gone in for making a regular job of it. I've got the best
architect in Boston, and I'm building a house to suit myself.
And if money can do it, guess I'm going to be suited."

"It seems very delightful," said Corey, "and very original."

"Yes, sir. That fellow hadn't talked five minutes
before I saw that he knew what he was about every time."

"I wish mamma would come!" breathed Irene again.
"I shall certainly go through the floor if papa says
anything more."