Hamelton (Dr. Paul) Read Free

back the way we had come in. When we arrived in the main entryway, we headed up the left staircase. Maggie kept informing us on little tidbits of information as we walked.
    "The builder, the original Hamelton that is, seemed to prefer to have the left side of the house as mostly family and business quarters, social and operational on the right." Handy commented how the hand carved banister seemed to be the only original part of the house. "No. no. no..." Maggie seemed to enjoy saying, "The whole house is original, just plastered over and painted. A few walls moved here and there. That window there. But mostly original. The Simons did their share when they modernized six years ago." She shook her head with disapproval. "Every owner has made their mark, some more than others."
    The second floor hall we had entered was plain but luxurious. The floor was stone like the rest of the house. The white walls had pictures hung of flowers in vases. Judging from the apparent expense of the magnificent frames, those canvasses must have cost a pretty penny, but not my taste. The hall was about ten feet wide with an occasional small table on the side displaying a fragrant bouquet of flowers. A carpet ran down the middle of the hall. At the end of the hall we could see that it made a left turn, undoubtedly leading to the part of the wing that protrudes forward.
    Noticing the seemingly endless line of doors we were passing, I asked, "Where are the stairs going up? The house seemed to be more than two stories tall from the outside."
    "Yes, I suppose it does, or is." Maggie replied as we turned the corner, "Much has been closed off through the years. Too overwhelming if you don't need it, I would think, and too hard to keep up. I still check each room every few months, even the closed off parts. Some rooms are tall while others are not. You'll see."
    "Who could possibly need a home this big?" Cindy said suddenly in a sarcastic voice, and then looked down not believing it came from herself. This seemed to be the first thing Cindy said since we arrived off the plane.
    Maggie complacently took no offense to Cindy's tone. Walking a few steps further she stopped, turned to Cindy and nicely explained, "In the old days important people needed a large entourage to handle their affairs. Also remember when they entertained, it may have been a day's ride or more for their guests. Their guests and their entourages needed to spend the night. The larger the parties you threw, the more bedrooms a good host would have."
    Maggie reached behind her on the right side of the hall, turned the knob, and gave the door a gentle push. The door almost seemed magical in its slow but steady reveling of the room. As strange as it may seem it felt like watching a bed sheet on the clothesline in a soft wind. Behind the door was a room fit for a queen. The bed had a canopy made of white lace. A few dozen small pillows decorated the headboard. Even as large as the bed and its four posted corners may have been, it seemed dwarfed by the size of this room. The entertaining side of the room had several pink and white couches and chairs. The matching drapes that covered the full length windows hung still. There was a dressing room in a far corner.
    Maggie curtsied and winked to Cindy suggesting Cindy to enter. "This is called the princess's room." Cindy just stood there. Maggie said, "I'll be back in a few minutes to show you where everything is... or do you want to see the other bedrooms?"
    The four of us impatiently watched as the next door was opened. "This is the hunting room, for the Don Juan. Or should I say Jeff?" The room was the same size as Cindy's. The fireplace was the first thing I noticed. Massive marble columns were on both sides and book shelves were built on the sides of the columns. The mantel displayed trophies on top. A white bear skin lay in front. The walls had the busts of animals of prey. The bed had a tiger skin draped across it.
    "Look behind the right