“If she did as well as you would do, my dear,” said I. “There are plenty of young women in our Boston high schools who are going through higher fields of mathematics than are required by the architect, and the schools for design show the flexibility and fertility of the female pencil. The thing appears to me altogether more feasible than many other openings which have been suggested to woman.”
“Well,” said Jenny, “isn’t papa ever to go on with his paper?”
I continued:—
What ought “our house” to be? Could any other question be asked admitting in its details of such varied answers,—answers various as the means, the character, and situation of different individuals? But there are great wants, pertaining to every human being, into which all lesser ones run. There are things in a house that every one, high or low, rich or poor, ought, according to his means, to seek. I think I shall class them according to the elemental division of the old philosophers: Fire, Air, Earth, and Water. These form the groundwork of this need-be,—the sine-qua-nons of a house.
“Fire, air, earth, and water! I don’t understand,” said Jenny.
“Wait a little till you do, then,” said I. “I will try to make my meaning plain.”