to eternal ugliness, but it is quite possible to make the washstand interesting to look upon as well as serviceable.  It isn’t necessary to buy a “set” of dreadful crockery.  You can assemble the necessary things as carefully as you would assemble the outfit for your writing-table.  Go to the pottery shops, the glass shops, the silversmiths, and you will find dozens of bowls and pitchers and small things.  A clear glass bowl and pitcher and the necessary glasses and bottles can be purchased at any department store.  The French peasants make an apple-green pottery that is delightful for a washstand set.  So many of the china shops have large shallow bowls that were made for salad and punch, and pitchers that were made for the dining-table, but there is no reason why they shouldn’t be used on the washstand.  I know one wash basin that began as a Russian brass pan of flaring rim.  With it is used an old water can of hammered brass, and brass dishes glass lined, to hold soaps and sponges.  It is only necessary to desire the unusual thing, and you’ll get it, though much searching may intervene between the idea and its achievement.

The washstand itself is not such a problem.  A pair of dressing-tables may be bought, and one fitted up as a washstand, and the other left to its usual use.

In the Colony Club there are a number of bathrooms, but there are also washstands in those rooms that have no private bath.  Each bathroom has its fittings planned to harmonize with the connecting bedroom, and the clear glass bottles are all marked in the color prevailing in the bedroom.  Each bathroom has a full-length mirror, and all the conveniences of a bathroom in a private house.  In addition to these rooms there is a long hall filled with small cabinets de toilette which some clever woman dubbed “prinkeries.”  These are small rooms fitted with dressing-tables, where out-of-town members may freshen their toilets for an occasion.  These little prinkeries would be excellent in large country houses, where there are so many motoring guests who come for a few hours only, dust-laden and travel-stained, only to find that all the bedrooms and dressing-rooms in the house are being used by the family and the house guests.

A description of the pool of the Colony Club is hardly within the province of this chapter, but so many amazing Americans are building themselves great houses incorporating theaters and Roman baths, so many women are building club houses, so many others are building palatial houses that are known as girls’ schools, perhaps the swimming-pool will soon be a part of all large houses.  This pool occupies the greater part of the basement floor of the Club house, the rest of the floor being given over to little rooms where one may have a shampoo or massage or a dancing lesson or what not before or after one’s swim.  The pool is twenty-two by sixty feet, sunken below the level of the marble floor.  The depth is graded from