But the undoubted charm of Joan's house was that she had taken no ideas from anywhere. She simply had about her the sort of things she liked. There were ferns growing in the window-sills, and no curtains whatever except two lengths of heavy pumpkin-colored silk which might be drawn across the panes at will, but rarely were. "People will be able to see in when the lamps are lighted," protested her step-mother. "What of it? They won't see much over those ferns," said Joan, "and I always love to peep in at lighted windows myself, don't you? Haven't you ever noticed how much nicer the houses in this part of the world look when they're undressed for the summer? Personally, my taste has never run to lingerie in household decoration." Effie May, who was nothing if not receptive, went home and meekly took down her point-lace curtains. What troubled Louisville most about the Blair house was its lack of a dining-room. There was no chamber held sacred to the rites of nourishment, with chairs sitting primly against the wall and a center table with a centerpiece upon it, bearing a fernery or--what was more recently affected by the really up-to-date--a dish containing imitation fruit. ("So much smarter than the real kind," explained her neighbor, Mrs. Webster, who had quite a taste for the correct in art.) There was no sideboard for the display of wedding-silver, no china-cabinet containing the best glassware in glittering serried rows. What was the use of having nice things, thought many a troubled housewife, if they were to blush unseen in pantries? But Joan did not understand, and frankly said so, why in a small house one room should be set aside for use only three times a day. She needed the extra wall space for her books. Besides if there was a dining-room people seemed to feel obliged always to eat in it, instead of in the garden or the porch, or on a table drawn close to the window, where one might look out into the world while one ate, as in a pleasant restaurant. "I'm like the Irishman," she remarked, "who said that he was glad he didn't like strawberries, because if he did he'd have to eat them, and he hated the damn things.--Try having your meals served about in different places, and see if you haven't a better appetite for them!" Even the admiring Jabberwocks felt that this was carrying oddity to the extreme. They always took strangers, however, to see Joan's little house, and incidentally Joan herself. Mr. Nikolai had sent her recently several Mandarin costumes, unique in the history of Louisville for domestic wear, in which she appeared comfortable, piquante, and quite exotically feminine. "Fancy! Trousers on a bride! And at such a time, too," murmured the ladies of the neighborhood among themselves.