“Why, that’s just as easy,” she said. “A home is merely a home. It includes a front porch and a back porch and a fireplace and a bathtub and an ice chest and a view and a garden around it; all the rest is incidental. If you have more money, you have more incidentals. If you don’t have so much, you use your imagination and think you have just as much on less.”
“Now, I wonder,” said Peter, “when I find my dream lady, if she will have an elastic imagination.”
“Haven’t you found her yet?” asked Linda casually.
“No,” said Peter, “I haven’t found her, and unfortunately she hasn’t found me. I have had a strenuous time getting my start in life. It’s mostly a rush from one point of interest to another, dropping at any wayside station for refreshment and the use of a writing table. Occasionally I have seen a vision that I have wanted to follow, but I never have had time. So far, the lady of this house is even more of a dream than the house.”
“Oh, well, don’t worry,” said Linda comfortingly. “The world is full of the nicest girls. When you get ready for a gracious lady I’ll find you one that will have an India-rubber imagination and a great big loving heart and Indian-hemp apron strings so that half a dozen babies can swing from them.”
Morrison turned to Henry Anderson.
“You hear, Henry?” he said. “I’m destined to have a large family. You must curtail your plans for the workroom and make that big room back of it into a nursery.”
“Well, what I am going to do,” said Henry Anderson, “is to build a place suitable for your needs. If any dream woman comes to it, she will have to fit herself to her environment.”
Linda frowned.
“Now, that isn’t a bit nice of you,” she said, “and I don’t believe Peter will pay the slightest attention to you. He’ll let me make you build a lovely room for the love of his heart, and a great big bright nursery on the sunny side for his small people.”