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He decided, that last winter of peace, to turn host and,
true to instinct, to do the unusual.
It was Natalie who gave him the suggestion.
"Why don't you turn your carriage-house into a studio, and give a
studio warming, Roddie? It would be fun fixing it up. And you
might make it fancy dress."
Before long, of course, he had accepted the idea as of his own
originating, and was hard at work.
Rodney's house had been his father's. He still lived there,
although the business district had encroached closely. And for
some time he had used the large stable and carriage-house at the
rear as a place in which to store the odd bits of furniture, old
mirrors and odds and ends that he had picked up here and there.
Now and then, as to Natalie, he sold some of them, but he was a
collector, not a merchant. In his way, he was an artist.
In the upper floor he had built a skylight, and there, in odd hours,
he worked out, in water-color, sketches of interiors, sometimes
for houses he was building, sometimes purely for the pleasure of
the thing.


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