“Then, in the kitchen,” Mr. Rose went on, drawing as he spoke, “we’ll have a tiny sink, all nice white enamel, and a wall-cupboard for your dish-towels and soap and such things. Also a sort of a small—a very small—kitchen cabinet for your pepper and salt, with a place underneath for pans and kettles.”
“You think a lot about the kitchen, Daddy. I believe you expect to come there sometimes to join our feasts.”
“I certainly shall, if I’m invited. Then, you see, the dining-room can have a deep window, and if you don’t care for a window-seat there, how about a window-box of bright flowers?”
“I don’t know about that, Mr. Rose,” demurred Dolly. “If the house isn’t always warm, the poor posies would freeze, wouldn’t they?”
“Right you are, Dollykins. Cut out the growing plants, then, and have now and then a vase or bowl of flowers on the table. Now, let me see. An electric light over the table in the dining-room, and perhaps a side light or two. Then in the Study, a reading light for each, and one or two pretty fixtures beside.”
“Why, will we use it so much at night, Mr. Rose?”
“If you choose to. And anyway, in the winter time, you’ll need lights by five o’clock, or on dark days, even earlier.”
“That’s so; how thoughtful you are. I s’pose some days we won’t go in the house at all, and others we’ll be there all the afternoon and all the evening.”
“And all Saturdays,” said Dotty; “we’ll always spend Saturdays there, and we can make things for the house or make our Christmas presents, or make fudge and have the girls and boys come over—”
“Or just sit by the fire and read,” interrupted Dolly.