class="smcap-capitals">C. Racquet Court.

D. Library.

E. Study.

F. Dining Room.

a a a &c. all bay windows and lights high up, according to room.

d d d &c., doors.

On this plan every room is en suite.

“How about your staircases,” says Boodels, “and your kitchen, eh?”

I observe that this is only a commencement. That my object is to remember everything gradually, and so omit nothing.

Happy Thought.—Only one floor and one flight of stairs.

Here I find the library has been forgotten.

Add on the library in dots; like a railway map.

“How do you get there from the study?” asks Milburd.

“Why, by doors, through the dining-room.”

“Awkward,” suggests Boodels.

“No; I don't think so.”

“How do you light your study?” asks Cazell.

“Eh? . . . . . Ah! . . .”

Happy Thought.—From above.

“Then,” says Milburd, as if there was an end of the whole thing, “you lose a bed-room by that, and another over the billiard-room.”

True.

Happy Thought.—Bring study more forward and light it by big window in front. (I do so in dots.)

Milburd says: “Throw out a bay.”

This is his invariable resource.

I throw out a bay-window (also in dots) and then we survey it carefully.

Happy Thought.—To have an In-door Amusement Hall for Wet Weather.

“Will your Amusement hall be the Hall?”

“Well . . . Yes.”

“Then the front door will be . . .?”

I indicate in dots the front door, and the drive.

“Precisely,” says Boodels, “and just as you're in the middle of a game of something, up comes a party to call; you can't say you're not at home, and the servants can't open the door while the ball, or whatever it is, is flying about.”

True . . . Then . . . bring it more forward. Or make a new plan.

“Then the bath-room's forgotten,” says Milburd. Add it in dots to tennis court.

Then over every room there'll be a bed-room and dressing-room. So that'll be a good house.

“What style?” asks Cazell.

“Elizabethan, decidedly,” I reply. They think not.

“Gothic's useful,” says Boodels.

“Italian's better,” observes Milburd.

“Something between the two,” suggests Cazell.

Twelve rooms below, twelve above. Stables outside, added subsequently.

Happy Thought.—Submit this to Chilvern, my architectural friend.

CHILVERN.

I say, Estimate it roughly.

He does it, after a day or so.

Rough Estimate. About £8,000.

“That,” I say, a little staggered, “is rather over the mark than under it, eh?”

“Over? No,” he replies, “Under. I mean, of course, to have everything done well, thoroughly well. Of course,” says he, “there are men who will run you up a house in a few weeks and charge you about £4,000. But what's the result? Why you're always repairing, and it costs you, in the end, double