“That’s because you’re an artist. But this must be the new house! Father’s turning in here. Oh, isn’t it lovely!”
It was a most beautiful place, though its somewhat dense shrubbery partly hid the view of the ocean.
But the house was delightful. Large, roomy, and well-built, it seemed all any one could desire for a summer home.
They went through it, with many comments, and then went on a block farther, to look at the other one they had in mind.
This was equally desirable, in every way, as a dwelling, but the large grounds had very few trees or tall shrubs, so that the sea-view was unobstructed.
“This is my choose!” declared Patty, sitting down on the steps of the front veranda. “What’s the use of coming to the seashore and living in a forest? Oh, my fond parents, do decide to take this one, for your little Patty’s sake!”
“Will there be shade enough?” asked Mr. Fairfield.
“Yes, indeed!” declared Patty. “If not, we can go inside and draw the curtains. But I do love a house where you can see out. And I think this is the finest ocean view on the beach.”
“It is,” corroborated the agent, who was showing them the house. “And the sunrise view is grand.”
“I don’t often see the sun rise,” admitted Patty, laughing; “but perhaps I shall, down here, for I’m going to sleep out of doors.”