Christian fiction; Families -- Fiction; Love stories
"Sid, why can't you put on great big windows like that? They would
never notice the windows, you know. It would be so nice to have plenty
of light and air."
"That's so," he murmured. "I might change the windows some without its
being noticed."
Then to the man at the desk:
"What's the price of that window? Got any more?"
"Yes," said the man, looking up interested; "got half a dozen, made
especially for a party, and then he wasn't pleased. Claimed he ordered
sash-winders 'stead of casement. If you can use these six, we'll make
you a special price."
"Oh, take them, Sid! They're perfectly lovely," said Elizabeth
eagerly. "They're casement windows with diamond panes. They'll just
be so quaint and artistic in that stone!"
"Well, I don't know how they'll fit," said the young man doubtfully.
"I don't want to make it seem as if I was trying to put on too much
style."
"No, Sid, it won't seem that way, really. I tell you they'll never
notice the windows are bigger, and casement windows aren't like a
regular house, you know. See, they'll open wide like doors. I think
it would be just grand!"
"All right, kid, we'll see! We'll take the man out with us; and, if he
says it can be done, I'll take them."
Elizabeth was overjoyed.
"That's just what it needed!" she declared. "They couldn't live in the
dark on rainy days. You must put two in the front on each side the
door, and one on each end. The back windows will do well enough."
"Well, come on, kid. Mr. Jones is going out with me at once. Do you
want to go with us, or shall I call a taxi and send you home?" asked
her brother.
"I'm going with you, of course," said Elizabeth eagerly, hurrying out
to the car as if she thought the thing would be done all wrong without
her.
So Elizabeth sat in the back seat alone, while her brother and the
contractor discoursed on the price of lumber and the relative values of
wood and stone for building-purposes, and the big car went back over
the way it had been before that afternoon.
They stopped on the way out, and picked up one of Mr. Jones's
carpenters who was just leaving a job with his kit of tools, and who
climbed stolidly into the back seat, and sat as far away from the
little blue-velvet miss as possible, all the while taking furtive notes
to tell his own little girl about her when he went home.
Elizabeth climbed out, and went about the barn with them, listening to
all they had to say.
The two men took out pencils and foot rules, and went around measuring
and figuring. Elizabeth watched them with bright, attentive eyes,
putting a whispered suggestion now and then to her brother.
"They can't go up and down a ladder all the time," she whispered.
"There ought to be some rough stairs with a railing, at least as good
as our back stairs at home."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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