with a fireplace opposite the wide doorway. Then, taken all together,
we should have a very pretty sitting-room. I shouldn't call that an
alteration--should you, Jack?--only an addition."

[Illustration: A SLIGHT ADDITION.]

"Certainly not. Tearing down partitions, taking out plumbing, building
a few chimneys, moving stairways, and such little things, can't be
called 'alterations'--oh, no."

"And the house will be worth so much more when you come to sell it."

"Of course. But why do you call this a 'sitting-room?' It wouldn't be
possible to sell a house that has no parlor; besides this is marked
'parlor' on the plan."

"I prefer the spirit of the plan to the letter of it. This is the
pleasantest room--almost the only pleasant room on this floor. It is
sunny and convenient, it looks out upon the street and across the lawn,
and whatever it is labeled it will _be_ our common every-day
sitting-room. For similar reasons we will take the chamber over it for
our own room."

"What becomes of our hospitality if we keep the best for ourselves?"

"What becomes of our common sense if we make ourselves uncomfortable
the year round in order to make a guest a little less uncomfortable
over night. I try to love my neighbor as myself; I can't love him three
hundred and sixty-five times as well. Now, if you are rested, we will
go and see if the architect has come."