She was eager and yet calm; full of ideas and ideals, yet with a practical knowledge of details that made her houses dear to the souls of women.
She pointed out in the new drawings the practical advantages of kitchen and pantry; the simple but thorough ventilation, the deep closets, till her friend fairly laughed at her.

"And you say you're not domestic!" "I'm a domestic architect, if you like," said Isabel; "but not a domestic servant .-- I'll remember what you say about those windows--it's a good idea," and she made a careful note of Mrs.Weatherstone's suggestion.
That lady pushed the plans away from her, and went to the many cushioned lounge in the wide west window, where she sat so long silent that Isabel followed at last and took her hand.
"Did you love him so much ?" she asked softly.
"Who ?" was the surprising answer.
"Why--Mr.Weatherstone," said Mrs.Porne.
"No--not very much.

But he was something." Isabel was puzzled.

"I knew you so well in school," she said, "and that gay year in Paris.

You were always a dear, submissive quiet little thing--but not like this.