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style of this house.”
    I had not previously heard Neil articulate the philosophy of his design process, but now I understood how unerringly he had achieved his goal. The building that loomed before me was neither “modern” nor “country,” and it was a far cry from “Victorian” or “Mediterranean.” But it worked. Everything seemed to fit, nothing was superfluous, and the entire structure was in harmony with its setting.
    â€œYour choice of materials,” Glee gushed, “is stunning.”
    â€œThe stone was quarried in the northern part of the state, and the timbers, though not local, are a reflection of the wooded landscape.”
    I suggested, “They also tie in with Gillian’s involvement with the paper industry—trees.”
    Neil smiled. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

    Glee was earnestly taking notes, recording Neil’s words verbatim. She told him, “What impresses me most, though, is your use of glass. The stone and timbers, in the hands of a less skilled designer, might come across as ‘rustic,’ but not here. The glass seems to lighten the whole structure and offers just the right counterpoint of sophistication.”
    With a grin, Neil suggested, “Feel free to quote yourself.”
    â€œI just may do that.” She underlined something on her pad.
    â€œWhen we get inside,” continued Neil, “you’ll see how important the glass is to the overall concept of the living space. The trick was to give the fenestration a look of exterior order and discipline while not allowing the scale and placement of windows to seem ‘forced’ from the interior. Window treatments will be crucial—did I mention that Todd Draper is doing them?”
    â€œFrom Chicago? Lord, Neil, there’s none better.”
    â€œWhether Gillian appreciates it or not, she’s getting curtains with a pedigree. Ready to have a look inside?”
    By then, Glee and I were more than ready. We eagerly followed Neil as he opened the door and led us into the foyer.
    The entrance hall was of grand scale, but its pleasing proportions did not convey the impersonal, commercial feeling of a hotel lobby. Rather, the room seemed warmly welcoming, signaling that we had just entered someone’s home. The soft palette and comfortable furnishings contributed to an easy sense of tranquility, though this effect was limited today by the presence of decorating crews who trudged in and out with their wares, calling questions and barking instructions to each other. Conspicuously, the rows of windows had not yet been touched, awaiting Todd Draper’s reputed magic, so the acoustics of the room were still harsh and echoing. A rug stood rolled in a corner, not yet covering the rough-hewn floor, probably limestone, which also contributed to the noisiness.
    Neil stood with Glee at the center of this activity, answering her queries about square footage, lighting systems, and the decorating subcontractors. While they spoke, I did some snooping on my own, nosing down the halls that led from the foyer—I saw the dining room, a wood-paneled den, and a small sitting room that looked more like a
parlor than a full-blown living room. Wondering about the whereabouts of the main room, I returned to the foyer and noticed a tall set of closed double doors directly opposite the front door. Yes, I recalled from Neil’s drawings, the living room lay beyond those doors.
    Stepping toward the doors, I heard Neil tell Glee, “But I’m proudest of the living room. I’ve always liked the traditional American concept of the living room, as opposed to newer, less formal incarnations of the space as a ‘great room’ that opens to the kitchen and family room. To my way of thinking, there’s nothing wrong with the old idea that the living room is a special place, filled with the best of everything, off-limits to messy children. And that’s