It was now nearly time for dinner; and Mr. Curtis helped his wife into the carriage; and they all rode away to Mr. Taylor's farm, where they found a nice dinner of roast lamb and fresh vegetables awaiting them. For dessert there was plenty of strawberries and sweet, thick cream, which the grown people as well as the children enjoyed very much.
After dinner Mr. Rand opened a large book which Bertie thought looked like a big atlas; and then the stranger and papa and mamma gathered around the table to look at the plans of houses Mr. Rand had brought with him.
First, there was a picture of a pretty cottage with a verandah running around it. Then came the plan of a barn, very pretty and picturesque; but Mr. Rand tumbled these over without any ceremony, saying,—
"You must have something better than that;" and presently he came to the picture of a large house with turrets and towers, which looked very imposing.
"There it is. That's the plan for you," the gentleman exclaimed, in an exultant tone.
"What's the cost of that?" asked Mr. Curtis.
"Pshaw! the cost of a building is nothing to you," Mr. Rand answered, laughing. "The thing to be considered is whether you like it."
"What do you say, Cecilia?"
"It does not look home-like. The ground is high enough without mounting to the towers to see the prospect. I have an idea in my own mind if I could explain it to you."