It is going to be a bewitching house, nothing less. There is a covered porch which in winter is to be made into a sun room, that literally hangs over the blue abyss, but so firmly is it supported with its foundations of cement and its huge beams of oak, that it is as firm and enduring as the mountain-side itself. There is a long, fine living room; the mantel is to be of blue tile—yes, and the chimney piece, too. It will be curious, will it not? But I think I shall like it. There are two bedrooms on the first floor, and there is, of course, the kitchen and a small dining room. The wood is chestnut, which takes on a beautiful color when it is oiled. Upstairs there is a bedroom which reminds me of my dear little loft at Mother McBirney’s only that it is, of course, to be very nicely finished off. It looks up the mountain-side, too, and it opens on a sleeping porch. Then there is a long room beside it, the use of which I do not know. Perhaps it is being left undivided merely because it is not needed for present use. I have asked a number of persons who is building this house, but no one seems to know. The contractor is a friend of mine, but even he professes to know nothing. He says that a man at Rutherford is doing all the business with him, but that he understands it is for some gentleman who wishes to have a quiet spot to come to now and then, and who once visited Lee and saw this beautiful building site. Well, if he had taken any other spot in the whole county except the particular one that he did, he would be welcome. But as it is, he annoys me. Haven’t I chattered about enough? Mind, I am looking for you. I want you to come down and play at being a “rich merchant” with me. If you see the good people at Mallowbanks, give them my love, please. _Fondly_, _Azalea_. * * * * * The Shoals, November 21. _Dear Aunt Lorena_: I have just come home from the wedding of my dear Annie Laurie Pace to Samuel Disbrow. It was quite a sudden affair at the last. Of course they have been in love with each other for years, and it must be a year and a half since they became engaged. But they were both so busy superintending the dairy which Annie Laurie’s father left her, and following up their university extension course, that we had about decided, Carin and I, that they had forgotten all about getting married. But it seems that we were mistaken. They were thinking about it all of the time.