what would seem the ideal effect to aim at in a hospital. Now I thought if some time you would take a look at the drawings—"
"Mr. Dunbar," Floyd interrupted, "in a matter of this kind—a public matter—I am convinced that our only proper course is to invite a competition of the most distinguished architects. It seems to me out of the question that we should choose an architect arbitrarily—on our own responsibility."
"But if you could see Stewart's plans," Mr. Dunbar argued earnestly, "I am sure you would not think so. When you have a thing so perfectly adapted in every way, why go to the needless expense and delay that would be involved by a competition?"
"I have also made up my mind," Floyd said, not directly answering Mr. Dunbar's plea, "that three men like ourselves could n't possibly pass on architectural matters. Mr. Barstow is of my opinion. My idea is that we should invite eight or ten of the best architects in New York and Philadelphia and Boston, and also Stewart and Bennett & Durant to represent Avalon; I'd allow them three months in which to prepare their plans; and then I should have the award made by a committee of three—an architect, doctor, and—" Floyd hesitated in visible embarrassment, and then added firmly—"myself."
Mr. Dunbar sat for a moment in displeased silence.
"By the terms of the will the executors are instructed to keep this matter in charge until the buildings are completed and turned over to the city," he said.
"Yes; but that does not prevent them from assigning the arrangement of certain details to a sub-committee of their own appointing," Floyd replied. "The duty of the executors is, I think, to put the award in the hands of the persons most competent to render it, and themselves to deal with all financial transactions arising in the course of the work. You probably think it odd that I should name myself on the committee; why I should specify an