MOUNT KISCO During my brother's life there were four centres from which he set forth on his travels and to which he returned to finish the articles for which he had collected the material, or perhaps to write a novel, a few short stories, or occasionally a play, but unlike most of the followers of his craft, never to rest.

Indeed during the last twenty-five years of his life I do not recall two consecutive days when Richard did not devote a number of hours to literary work.

The centres of which I speak were first Philadelphia, then New York, then Marion, and lastly Mount Kisco.

Happy as Richard had been at Marion, the quaint little village, especially in winter, was rather inaccessible, and he realized that to be in touch with the numerous affairs in which he was interested that his headquarters should be in or near New York.
In addition to this he had for long wanted a home of his very own, and so located that he could have his family and his friends constantly about him.

Some years, however, elapsed between this dream and its realization.