Now the girls gave their attention to the estate, for they were naturally interested in the work their father had undertaken. The workmen were through, carpenters, plasterers and painters, and the place had been turned over to Count de Lestis. Very beautiful it was and one for any owner to be proud of. The spacious hall, with its waxed floor and beautiful stairway with mahogany treads and bannisters, was as fine an example of southern colonial as one could find in the whole of Virginia. The furnishings were in keeping with the general plan of the house, as at Mr. Carter’s suggestion an antique dealer and decorator from Richmond had had his finger in the pie. Much of the furniture had been bought with the house, being old mahogany that had been at Weston for more than a century.
“How lovely it is!” gasped Helen as the doors to the great dining-room were thrown open.
“I am so glad you like it,” whispered the count in a very meaning tone. “I have your father to thank for its being so complete. Never have I seen work carried on so rapidly. I was afraid I would be living in the discomfort of shavings and mortar beds for months to come.”
“Daddy is always like that,” said Helen smiling. Nothing pleased Helen so much as praise of her father. “He can always make workmen work. They say in Richmond that not even plumbers disappoint him. He always turns over his houses on time unless there is something absolutely unforeseen, like a strike or something.”
“I am indeed fortunate in having prevailed upon him to do this for me.”
“But he has enjoyed doing it so much. You see Daddy has not been able to work for so long and I think he had begun to feel that maybe he had lost out, and this proves that he hasn’t. He does not know how to be idle. Why last summer when he was supposed to do nothing but rest he drew the plans and built bird houses for Bobby.”
“Ah, indeed! I am so glad you reminded me of something. Mr. Carter,” he called to that gentleman who was critically examining some electric wiring recently put in ready for the Delco batteries which were on the way, “I want now some plans for bird houses if such trivial work is not beneath you. I want bird houses for every kind of feathered songster that can be attracted and persuaded to live at Weston.”
“How wonderful!” cried Helen and Douglas in chorus. Douglas had been engaged in conversation by the secretary, who was limbering up in an amazing manner. He was most attentive, showing her into every nook and cranny of the old house. He opened sideboards and cabinets to reveal the exquisite finish of the satinwood drawers and shelves; he took down bits of rare old china from the plate rack in the dining-room, explaining the marks on the bottoms. He was so kind that Douglas almost liked him, but not quite.
“Adolph Herz is too German in sound,” the Anglo-Saxon in her cried out. “And then his mouth! It is so red!”
“Certainly I’ll enjoy drawing plans for bird houses,” laughed Mr. Carter. “I shall even take pleasure in carpentering them. They are really lots of fun to make.”