e little stakes I drove into the ground, but my wife thought this better; and as I yield to her in matters of taste I changed to this spot."
"This gives you a much better view," the architect remarked quietly.
They walked here and there, two or three times. Mr. Rand took a rule from his pocket and measured the ground. Then he ran off by himself to the top of the little hill, and stood looking over the lake. All this time he had scarcely answered Mr. Curtis' questions. He was thinking. At last his face lighted up with a smile, and he exclaimed,--
"I have it; just the thing. How would you like a stone house? You have plenty of material on your land."
"A stone house is too damp," answered Mr. Curtis, shaking his head. "No, I prefer a well-made wooden house with back plaster and tarred paper to keep out the wind. I can use all my stone in building walls around my farm."
"How much land is there?"
"Sixty acres in this piece; and I have just purchased twenty more of wood; fo