I caught up with her and she led me a surprising distance to the other side of the building and Paul's quarters. The suite contained a masculine bedroom, sitting room and private bath. It reminded me of a hotel suite, albeit a large one, and contained fairly ordinary furnishings. The large closet contained relatively few articles of clothing and shoes. The only pictures were of Karen and Timmy, all in formal settings. We peeked in four guest bedrooms, each lavishly furnished.
The third floor housed servant's living quarters which we bypassed as they were still in residence. Above it was an attic. A glance told us unlike our Summerside treasure trove of memories the North's attic was totally empty.
"Not like our new house," Karen commented, smiling for the first time all day.
Everything in the building was connected by a bewildering array of back and front staircases, two elevators, and a labyrinth of halls and passageways. I was perpetually lost. I gave only a cursory glance at a movie theater, billiards room, gym and music room, all clustered in an extension off the rear of the main quarters. While the furnishings were, without a doubt expensive and beautiful, there was little I could picture in our Summerside home. I pointed out a number of pieces to Karen, soliciting her opinion but she turned her nose up at everything.
The only furniture I saw that might fit in our new home was a dinette set in the servant's eating area behind the food preparation room. It was plain and old fashioned but evoked memories.
"It's just like the table we had at home, back in Connecticut," I said.
"Take it!" Karen exclaimed with the only enthusiasm she'd so far exhibited. It was my first exposure to her growing obsession to parallel my upbringing so favorably described by mother.
We continued our tour on the first floor but found little of use. There was a telephone stand and hall tree and chair that would do in the spare bedroom. Smaller items such as china, kitchen ware, sheets, towels and the like would wait until larger furnishings were in place.
I commented favorably of a few paintings but then I noticed they were originals, painted by artists whose names even I recognized! It terrified me to think of them in our humble house. They were better suited for a museum. Paul liked a few of the paintings in his den, and we managed to agree on three more modest works to follow us to Summerside.
When Karen and I entered the main living room, I was startled to see my first image of the first Mrs. Paul North. Her life size full length oil portrait hung above the fireplace. It was a magnificent representation of a truly gorgeous woman. I was humbled and felt like a servant waif standing before the queen of the castle. Karen turned away without a glance.