John Castlemaine nodded.
"But that is not all. I should like the house to be—well, a kind of centre of life."
"That sounds very well; but tell me what you mean in greater detail. Would you invite the villagers to it? Would you give them dinners, and dances?"
"Perhaps so, but I was not thinking of that so much. As a rule, people build great houses for purely selfish purposes. They invite people whose presence will give them pleasure. They give dinners to those who live in a land of plenty, they offer pleasure to those who are satiated with it."
"Exactly," said John Castlemaine; "what then?"
"I think we could invite to our house those whom we could really benefit by inviting."
"Start a sort of hotel for poor people. I am afraid it would not do, Olive. They would be miserable amidst such surroundings."
"There are many people we know who would not be miserable, and to whom we should be rendering real kindness by inviting. In this way we could be using this great house for the good of needy people. There are young professional men, ministers, doctors, and the like who are very poor, and yet who are people of refined and cultured tastes. An invitation here would be a perfect godsend to them, and at the same time we should be meeting people who are our equals in the best sense of the word."
"Yes," said John Castlemaine, "there is Dr. Rickard's daughter, whom you used to invite to The Beeches. A fortnight here would be like paradise to the girl."
"There are hosts of such. But more than that, father; I think it is possible to help those who might not be happy as our guests in the house, or for that matter whom we might not like to have there."