The mystic chords which bind and thrill the heart of the nation, they will never know.
Hurstwood's residence could scarcely be said to be infused with this home spirit.

It lacked that toleration and regard without which the home is nothing.

There was fine furniture, arranged as soothingly as the artistic perception of the occupants warranted.

There were soft rugs, rich, upholstered chairs and divans, a grand piano, a marble carving of some unknown Venus by some unknown artist, and a number of small bronzes gathered from heaven knows where, but generally sold by the large furniture houses along with everything else which goes to make the "perfectly appointed house." In the dining-room stood a sideboard laden with glistening decanters and other utilities and ornaments in glass, the arrangement of which could not be questioned.

Here was something Hurstwood knew about.