The more they talked over the matter the more it seemed a sensible and feasible plan for all concerned. Mrs. Dorrance felt sure that with their two capable servants, and Mr. Hickox's varied usefulness, two boarders would make no more responsibility for Dorothy than her five guests had.
It was therefore decided to try the plan for a week, and if both sides were satisfied, to continue for the season.
Then Dorothy took the strangers up to select their rooms, and Mrs. Faulkner was as delighted at the idea of choosing from so many empty rooms, as the Dorrances had been on the night of their own arrival.
Agreeing to return the next day with their luggage, the Faulkners drove away, leaving the Dorrances in a high state of delighted excitement.
"You see," said Dorothy to her grandmother, "somethinghashappened. I felt sure it would, though of course, I had no idea it would be the Faulkners. But thirty dollars a week will help a lot, and I'm sure we can make them have a good time. They're lovely people,—you can see that at a glance. Mrs. Faulkner is so sweet, I think I'd be willing to pay her just to sit around and smile at me."
"Instead of her paying you to let her do it," said grandma. "But it is a good plan, Dorothy; for now we can afford to keep Kathleen, and pay her fair wages, which I did not otherwise feel justified in doing."
"And Kathleen is a whole army of servants, all in one," said Dorothy. "She'll be delighted at the idea of staying with us. I'll go and tell her about it now."
"I'll go, too," cried Fairy. "I want to hear her talk."
Out to the kitchen the two girls ran and noisily burst in upon Tessie and her mother.
The two Irish women were feeling rather blue, for Mrs. Dorrance had told them that she could not afford to let them both stay with her, and she was not sure that she ought to keep even Tessie.
"Arrah thin, darlints, yez'll be afther breakin' down the dures! Why musht ye always come so shlam-bang?"
"We can't help it, Kathleen," cried Dorothy; "we're just made so, I guess. But this time we've something to tell you,—something important."
"Im-porrtant, is it? Sorra a good thing cud yez tell me, ixcipt that yer lady grandmother wud be afther lettin' me shtay here wid yez. Me an' Tessie is afther grievin' sore at thoughts of lavin' yez."
"That's just it, Kathleen," screamed Fairy, who in her excitement and enthusiasm was scrambling up Kathleen's broad back. It was a favorite trick of Fairy's to clamber up and perch herself on the big woman's shoulder, and the good-natured giantess assisted her with sundry pushings and pullings.
"That's jist it, is it? Well thin yez naden't be afther tellin' me anny more. Yez can kape the rist of yer importance to yersilves. If we can shtay up here, me and Tessie, we'll wurruk our finger ends off fer ye, wid no wages but a bite an' a sup."
"No, that won't do, Kathleen. Now just listen; we want to engage you as cook, and Tessie as waitress for the Dorrance Domain. It has become a hotel,—a regular summer hotel, and the boarders will arrive to-morrow."
"For the love of all the saints, miss! Is it boorders yez'll be afther takin'? Shure, an' that's foine. And it's Kathleen as 'll cook fer yez. An' Tessie, you young rascal, see to it that you wait on the table jist grand! Do there be manny a-comin', miss?"
"Two," replied Dorothy; "and they're lovely people."
"Yes, lovely people," cried Fairy, who, still on Kathleen's shoulder, was emphasizing her remarks by pounding Kathleen with her little fists; "one is a great, big, lovely gentleman, with big, blue eyes, and grayish-blackish hair. That's Mr. Faulkner. And his wife's a beautiful little lady, who smiles, and smiles, and smiles. Oh, they're scrumptious people, and I expect they will stay all summer. Oh, Dorothy, the twins are coming! let's go and tell them!"
Fairy sprang from Kathleen's shoulder to the table, and from there bounded to the floor, and grasping Dorothy's hand, the two ran away to tell the news, and met the twins on the veranda.
Lilian and Leicester were as glad as the rest to learn of the advent of the Faulkners, and at once began to make plans for the comfort and entertainment of their boarders.
"I shall take Mr. Faulkner out fishing," said Leicester, "and show him all the best spots to fish."
"I don't believe he'll care much for fishing," said Mrs. Dorrance. "He seems to me to be so interested in his scientific work, that I imagine he spends little time in recreation. I think that you'll all have to try to be a little quieter than usual, especially in the house."
"We will, granny dear," said Lilian; "if we're going to keep boarders, we're going to do it properly; I guess the Dorrances know when they can cut up jinks, and when they can't."
"Isn't it funny, though," said Leicester, "to think of our living in this hotel because nobody would rent itasa hotel, and now here we are, running a hotel ourselves. I'm going to get out the big register, and clean up that inkstand thing, and have the office all in working-order for them to register when they come to-morrow. Dorothy, you can be proprietor, but I'll be the clerk; and then after they register, I'll ring the bell for a bell-boy. And then I'll be the bell-boy. And then I'll send myself for a porter, and Mr. Hickox'll be the porter. Oh, it'll be great!"
"Shall we eat in the big dining-room?" asked Lilian. "It seems as if it would be more like a hotel."
"I don't know," said grandma; "that immense room is too large for seven people. The Faulkners seem very congenial, and I can't help thinking they would prefer to sit at the round table with us. However, they might prefer a table to themselves; so I think the best plan is to wait until they arrive, and ask them. In such matters we should be glad to meet their wishes."
"I shall keep most systematic accounts," said Dorothy; "and then I can tell just how much we make by having boarders. There are lots of blank books in the office, and I shall keep exact lists of everything I buy this week, and then see how it balances up at the end of seven days."
"If you expect to make any money out of this scheme," said Leicester, "you mustn't feed us all on the fat of the land, as you did when those people were visiting here."
"No," said grandma; "you can't do it, Dorothy. It is very pleasant to set dainty and tempting dishes before one's guests; but when it comes to a practical business arrangement it is necessary to be careful in such matters. I don't want you to be over-economical, but on the other hand you cannot afford to be extravagant."
"If you're going to be a boarding-house keeper, Dot," said Lilian, "you must set a table exactly like Mrs. Cooper's!"
At this speech, Leicester started the famous Dorrance groan, and its wails reached the ears of Mr. Hickox, who was sauntering near by in his aimless, wandering fashion.
"Thought I'd just come over and see what you're yowling about," he said pleasantly; "those screeches are enough to kill all the fish in the lake!"
"Come in, Mr. Hickox," cried Leicester; "we have a grand plan on hand, and as usual we shall want your help."
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Hickox, "as usual. Hickox'll make it all right. What's up now?"
"We expect boarders to-morrow; and when they come, we want you to be on hand to look after their trunks and things. The Dorrance Domain has suddenly turned back into a hotel. Dorothy is proprietor, I'm clerk, and you're to be the porter."
"What am I?" said Lilian; "I want a regular position."
"Oh, you can be the elevator boy, or the carriage-door opener, whichever you like," said her brother.
"As we haven't any elevator, and our carriage hasn't any door, I won't be over-worked."
"We girls will all have to be upper servants," said Dorothy; "with so much extra work in the kitchen, we'll have to help a great deal as parlor-maids, and chambermaids, and dining-room maids."
"I'll sweep all the verandas every day," announced Fairy; "I do just love to fly around with that funny big broom-brush."
"Well, Hickox is yours to command," declared that genial gentleman; "whatever you want Hickory Hickox to do, that's as good as done! Excepting, of course, such various times as I might be otherwise employed. But I'll be porter all right, and I'll port them people's trunks right up to their rooms so fast, they'll think I'm an elevator. My! Mrs. Hickox, she'll be surprised to hear you people are going to have boarders! I must say, I'm some surprised myself. Well I must shuffle along now, and I'll be on deck when you want me to-morrow. Hickox will look after things. It'll be all right."
After the ungainly figure had shuffled away, the children still continued to make plans and offer suggestions for the new arrangement.
"We must be very methodical," said Dorothy, who was much in earnest in the matter, and who wanted to start out just right. "Mrs. Faulkner is so nice and sweet, I want to please her; and, too, if the Dorrances run a hotel, I want it to be run on the most approved plan."
"We'll each have an account book," said Fairy; "and I'll put down in mine, how many times I sweep the verandas each day."
"If you get around them all in one day, baby," said Leicester, "you'll do mighty well; and to do that, you'll have to get to work at daybreak and stick to it till sundown. There's an awful big number of square feet of veranda attached to this palatial mansion, I can tell you."
"Oh, pooh!" cried Fairy. "It won't take me all day, at all. I can fly around it in a minute. I'll work like a centripepede!"
"We'll keep the horse for this week, anyway," went on Dorothy; "for I shall have to go to market every morning, and it's so much quicker to go in the carriage than the boat. Sometimes you can go for me, Less, if I make out an exact list of what I want."
"All right," said her brother; "I don't think this keeping boarders is going to be such hard work after all. I wonder we didn't think of it sooner."
"I'm glad we didn't," said Dorothy; "I think it was nicer to have a few weeks all by ourselves, first. We've got to behave when the Faulkners get here. It will be just like it was at Mrs. Cooper's, you know."
This time Fairy started the groan, and again they all chimed in with those deep growling wails that always made Mrs. Dorrance clap her hands to her ears.
"For pity's sake!" exclaimed the long-suffering old lady; "don't make any reference to Mrs. Cooper while the Faulkners are here; for if they heard those fearful groans of yours, they'd leave at once."
"What's Mr. Faulkner like?" asked Leicester; "will he say, 'well, my little man,' to me?"
"No," said Dorothy, laughing at the remembrance; "Mr. Faulkner is an awful nice man. Not very young, and not very old."
"Like Jack Sprat's pig?" asked Leicester; "not very little and not very big."
"He isn't like anybody's pig!" said Fairy, indignantly. "He's a gentiliferous gentleman. I'm going to ask him to go to Mrs. Hickox's with me. He's scientiferic, and I know he'd like to read her newspaper clippings."
"I wouldn't ask him to go just at first, Fairy," said grandma; "wait until you get better acquainted."
"Well, anyhow? I'll take him to see the rabbits; he's sure to love them, they're such cunning, pudgy-wudgy little things."
"And I'm sure he will like Dare," said Lilian, patting the head of the big dog who lay at her feet.
"Such nice people as they seem to be, will surely like animals," said grandma; "but if they should not, then you must be very careful that they are not annoyed by them. Dare will learn for himself whether he is liked or not; but if Mrs. Faulkner doesn't care for kittens you must keep Mike out from under foot."
"I don't believe she'll care for kittens, so I'll take this one and drown it now," said Leicester, picking up the ball of fluffy Maltese fur, and starting towards the lake.
Fairy ran after him, screaming in pretended anguish, though she well knew her brother was only joking, being almost as fond of the kitten as she was herself.
The other two girls followed, and Dare followed them, and a general game of romps ensued.
Grandma Dorrance watched them from the veranda, feeling glad for the thousandth time that her dear ones were in their own home, where they could follow their own sweet will, without causing annoyance to any one.
The next day, true to her word, Dorothy made preparations for methodical and systematic hotel management.
"They may not stay more than a week; probably they won't," she said; "but I don't want them to leave because the Dorrance Domain isn't run properly as a summer hotel."
The children had looked upon the whole affair as a great joke; but seeing that there was a certain underlying current of seriousness in Dorothy's attitude, they began to think that it was a business venture after all.
"Shall we really ask them to register, Dot?" inquired Leicester, who didn't know quite how far the playing at hotel was to be carried.
"Yes," said Dorothy; "there is no reason why not; it can certainly do no harm, and it makes everything seem more shipshape. Have nice fresh pens, ink and blotters, and put down the date and the number of their rooms when Mr. Faulkner signs. Don't laugh about it, but don't put on airs either; just be polite and businesslike."
"My, Dot, but you're a wonder!" exclaimed Leicester, looking at his sister with admiration. "Where did you learn all these things? Nobody ever registered at Mrs. Cooper's."
"No," said Dorothy; "but that was a city boarding-house; an altogether different affair from a country summer hotel. It may be foolish, but I want to try to treat the Faulkners just as they would be treated in any nice summer hotel."
"It isn't foolish at all," spoke up Lilian; "it's just the right way to do, and we'll all help. We must send a pitcher of ice-water to their room every night."
"Oh, dear, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Dorothy, in dismay; "why, we haven't any ice."
"No," said Leicester, "but fresh-drawn water from that deep well is just as cold as any ice-water. I'll make that one of my duties; I'm a bell-boy, you know."
"Another thing," went on Lilian, in her practical way, "is the mail-box in the office. We must tell the Faulkners to put their letters in there, and they will be collected twice a day, and taken over to Woodville and mailed."
"Lilian, you're a trump!" cried Dorothy; "tell us more things like that,—that's just what I mean. But we can't go to Woodville twice a day!"
"I think once a day will be enough," said Leicester; "we'll take the contents of the mail-box every morning when we go over for the marketing."
"I shall write to Gladys Miller every day," said Fairy; "so you'll always have something to take; maybe the Faulkners don't have so very much corresponderence."
All four of the children went to market that morning. Leicester drove them over, and so much chattering and planning did they do on the way, that the two miles distance seemed very short.
Dorothy felt the responsibility of ordering just the right things for her table. She realized that she must begin on just the same scale on which she expected to continue through the week. She must not be too lavish, for since her aim now was to earn money, she must be fair and just, rather than generous.
Always sensible and capable, Dorothy seemed suddenly possessed of a new sort of self-reliance; and the responsibility which she had voluntarily and gladly accepted, seemed to bring with it the executive ability which promised success.
Mr. Bill Hodges was delighted to hear the news of boarders at the Dorrance Domain. He possessed that trait, not altogether unusual in storekeepers, of desiring to sell his wares. During the fortnight that the Dorrances had entertained company, he had reaped a golden harvest, and, as since then Dorothy's demand on his stock had been much more modest, he now rejoiced in the anticipation of further extravagant orders.
He was greatly surprised then, when Dorothy, instead of lavishly purchasing whatever struck her fancy, regardless of its price, began to inquire the cost of things, and showed a decided leaning towards thrift and economy.
"Ain't goin' to starve them folks, be you?" he asked, as Dorothy hesitated between the relative merits of lettuce and tomatoes.
"I hope not," said Dorothy, politely, for she knew Mr. Bill Hodges pretty well by this time, and so did not resent what she knew was not meant as a rudeness. "When our house was last run as a hotel, did they buy their provisions from you?"
"Yes, ma'am, they did;" and a shade more of respectful deference crept into the voice and manner of Mr. Bill Hodges, as he instinctively realized the touch of added dignity in Dorothy's demeanor. "Mr. Perkins, he used to do the marketin', and gracious snakes! but he calc'lated close. He give his boarders just enough to keep them alive and no more."
"Well, I don't want to be quite so mean as that," said Dorothy; "but on the other hand, I can't afford to treat my boarders quite as I would like to entertain my guests."
"That's right, that's right!" exclaimed Mr. Bill Hodges, whose own shrewd business mind readily recognized similar qualities in another. "That's right; treat 'em good, but not too good."
This phrase fastened itself in Dorothy's mind, and she determined to take for her line of action all that was expressed in Mr. Bill Hodges' homely phrase, "Treat'em good, but not too good."
Their purchases satisfactorily completed, the children jogged back home over the rough, steep hill, and even old Dobbin seemed to realize that he was now part of the establishment of a first-class summer hotel.
That afternoon the Faulkners arrived.
Everything was in readiness, and perhaps no hotel proprietor ever took greater pride in the general appearance of his hostelry, than did Dorothy Dorrance, as, arrayed in a fresh white muslin, she stood on the east veranda watching a lumbering stage drawing nearer and nearer to the Dorrance Domain.
And surely no typical hotel clerk, even though decorated with the traditional diamond pin, could show a more faultless array of official-looking desk-furnishings.
The Horton House stage rolled slowly up the driveway, and stopped at the main entrance. Mr. Hickox was on hand to open the stage door, and look after the hand luggage.
With an instinctive grasping of the situation, both Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner appreciated Dorothy's frame of mind, and acted precisely as if they were entering a hotel run on regulation lines.
As Dorothy led the way to the office, Mrs. Faulkner looked at her curiously. It was strange to see a girl, so young and pretty, so graceful and well-bred, yet possessed of a certain quality which could only be designated by the term, "business instinct." She marveled at Dorothy's poise, which, however, showed no trace of awkwardness or pertness.
Mrs. Faulkner was fond of character study, and felt convinced at once that she would greatly enjoy a better acquaintance with Dorothy Dorrance.
At the office, Leicester showed the newcomers the same quiet, polite courtesy. The boy had a frank, straightforward air that always impressed strangers pleasantly. He turned the register around towards Mr. Faulkner, and offered him an already-inked pen, with an air of being quite accustomed to registering guests.
But Leicester's sense of humor was strong, and the absurdity of the whole thing struck him so forcibly, that it was with great difficulty he refrained from laughing outright. Had he glanced at Dorothy, he certainly would have done so; but the two were fully determined to play their part properly, and they succeeded.
Nor was Mr. Faulkner to be outdone in the matter of correct deportment. He gravely took the pen offered to him, signed the register in the place indicated, and inquired if they might go at once to their rooms.
"Certainly," said Leicester, touching the bell on the desk. The ubiquitous Hickox appeared with the hand-bags, and Leicester handed him the keys.
This touch nearly finished Dorothy, for numbered keys seemed so very like a real hotel, that it struck her as quite the funniest thing yet.
As the Faulkners, following Mr. Hickox, went up the great staircase and disappeared around the corner, Leicester flew out from behind his desk, grasped Dorothy's hand, and fleetly, though silently, the two ran through the long parlor to one of the smaller rooms, shut the door, and then burst into peals of laughter.
For a moment they would pause, begin to speak to each other, and then go off again into choking spasms of hilarity.
Had they only known it, their two guests on the floor above, were doing almost the same thing. Mrs. Faulkner had thrown herself into an easy chair, and was laughing until the tears rolled down her cheeks. Mr. Faulkner, who was by nature a grave gentleman, was walking up and down the room, broadly smiling, and saying, "Well upon my word! well upon my word!"
Before Dorothy and Leicester had recovered their equilibrium, the two younger girls came rushing into the room where they were.
"Did they come? Are they here? What is the matter? Do tell us all about it!"
Dorothy, in her idea of the fitness of things had asked Lilian and Fairy to keep out of sight until after the arrival and registration had been safely accomplished; grandma, it had also been thought best, was not to appear until dinner-time. As Dorothy had expressed it, she knew the proper propriety for a proprietor, and she proposed to live up to it.
But of course when Fairy and Lilian, on the west veranda, heard the commotion in the small parlor, they could restrain their curiosity no longer, and insisted on being told all about it.
So Dorothy and Leicester calmed down a little, and assured them that the whole thing had passed off beautifully; that the arrival had been a howling success, and that Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner were now established boarders at the Dorrance Domain.
Then Dorothy went out to the kitchen to superintend carefully the preparations for dinner. She had decided that since the Dorrance Domain had become a hotel, it was proper to have dinner at night, and luncheon in the middle of the day.
Once over the comical farce of registering, the advent of the Faulkners took on an aspect not entirely humorous, and Dorothy's sense of serious responsibility came back to her. Kathleen, too, with her native Irish wit realized the gravity of the occasion, and went about her duties in a steady, capable way that greatly helped to reassure Dorothy.
And indeed, matters seemed to be progressing most smoothly. The dinner was well under way, and the table daintily set.
Fairy had brought flowers from Mrs. Hickox's garden, and she and Lilian had decorated the table and the dining-room. Dorothy had concluded that they would all sit together at the round table that night, and then if the Faulkners preferred a table to themselves, it could be arranged later.
After a careful supervision, Dorothy left the dinner in charge of her really competent cook and waitress, and went back to the family. She found them all on the west veranda, where they usually congregated at sunset time.
With them were the Faulkners; and in a pretty summer house-gown, Mrs. Faulkner looked so sweet and dainty, that Dorothy felt more than ever attracted to her. Mr. Faulkner was engaged in a pleasant conversation with Grandma Dorrance; and Dorothy suddenly felt that to be the proprietor of a summer hotel was just the nicest thing a girl could do.
"You've no idea," Mrs. Faulkner was saying, as Dorothy came out, "what a delightful change this is from the noise and glitter of the Horton House. This lovely great veranda, and the beautiful view of the lake, with no inharmonious elements, makes me feel glad I'm alive."
"I'm glad you are alive, too," said Dorothy, smiling at the lady; "and I'm glad you live here."
It was truly astonishing, even to Dorothy, how easily the machinery of a big hotel could be made to move along. The Dorrances all agreed that the Faulkners were no trouble at all, and that their presence in the Dorrance Domain added greatly to the happiness of all concerned. Doubtless the explanation of this lay in several different facts. To begin with, the Faulkners were most charming people; refined, tactful, and kind-hearted. It was their nature to make as little trouble as possible, wherever they might be.
On the other side, Dorothy's determination to succeed in her enterprise, grew with what it fed upon, and she became day by day more capable through experience. Also, she was ably assisted by Leicester and the girls, who were always ready to do anything she wished them to. Then, the servants were certainly treasures, and as Dorothy said, it would be a perfect idiot of a hotel proprietor who couldn't succeed under such advantages as she had.
With her success her ambitions grew.
Again sitting on the east veranda, one afternoon, she found herself wishing that another buggy would drive up and deposit two more such people as the Faulkners at her hotel office. If she could succeed with two, why not with four, or even six?
Indeed, in her imagination she saw a long procession of buggies bringing eager guests to the hospitality of the Dorrance Domain.
Acting on an impulse, she went in search of Mrs. Faulkner, and found that lady just coming down-stairs, dressed for afternoon, and quite ready for a chat.
So Dorothy carried her off to one of her favorite nooks which was a little vine-clad arbor on the east lawn.
This proprietor and guest had become firm friends in the few days they had been together. Dorothy admired Mrs. Faulkner's lovely gracious disposition, and her clever cultivated mind. Mrs. Faulkner saw great possibilities in Dorothy's character and took a sincere interest in the girl. Aside from this there was that subtle, inexplicable bond of sympathetic congeniality, which makes a real friendship possible.
"I want to talk to you seriously," said Dorothy.
"I'm all attention," said Mrs. Faulkner; "proceed with your seriousness."
"You and Mr. Faulkner have been here a week to-morrow," Dorothy went on, "and——"
"And you can't stand us any longer,—and you want to break it to me gently?"
"No, indeed, nothing of the sort! and you know that well. But I want to ask you frankly, and I want you to tell me honestly, how I have succeeded this week in what I have undertaken."
"What have you undertaken?" said Mrs. Faulkner, who dearly loved to make Dorothy formulate her thoughts.
"Why, I undertook to give you and Mr. Faulkner, in a general way, and so far as I could, just such comforts and accommodations as you would get at the average summer hotel."
"Is that all you tried to do?"
"I think," said Dorothy, speaking slowly, and thinking hard, "I think I tried to give you a little bit extra, in the way of home comforts and dainty service, to make up for the things that the average summer hotel provides, but which I can't give you."
"Like a brass band, for instance."
"Yes, a brass band, and a great array of bell-boys and porters, and Saturday night hops, and,—lots of things like that."
"Well," said Mrs. Faulkner, "to tell you the truth, I don't care two straws for brass bands, or Saturday night hops; and Mr. Faulkner doesn't either. We are both charmed with this place, and we are both absolutely happy and comfortable. So, if you are willing, we are quite ready to prolong our stay indefinitely. Mr. Faulkner enjoys the quiet and freedom from interruption, while he is pursuing his scientific studies. And as for myself, I want to get well rested this summer, for during the winter, my city life is very full of gayety and excitement."
"I'm so glad you are satisfied," said Dorothy, earnestly; "for this was an experiment, and I was so anxious it should succeed. Of course, on my side it is more than satisfactory. You and Mr. Faulkner are ideal boarders; you make no trouble at all, and you have helped me in lots of ways by your advice and suggestions. Now I want to ask your advice some more. You know what I can do,—you know the house, and all,—do you think, if I could get them, I could take two or three more boarders?"
"Doyouthink you could?" asked Mrs. Faulkner, smiling at Dorothy's eager face.
"Yes, I think so; but sometimes, you know, I'm apt to overrate my own ability. I could do the work all right,—or have it done,—but I'm not sure whether I could manage to satisfy people who might not be so lovely and amiable as you and Mr. Faulkner are. And another thing, I wouldn't want any more boarders if it would bother or annoy you two the least mite."
"Why do you think you would like to have more?"
"Because, Mrs. Faulkner, I want to earn more money. Grandmother is bothered with her financial affairs, and if we children could help her any, we'd all be so glad. You see we are an awful expense to her; but soon, I hope we'll be old enough to earn money for her instead. Now of course to have two boarders is a good help towards the living expenses of our own family; and I've counted up, and I think if I could have four, it would almost entirely pay our running account. And if I had six, I think we might begin to save money. Oh, Mrs. Faulkner, do you think we could do it?"
"Where would you get these boarders?"
"I don't know; but I thought I would ask you first, and see if you objected to having other people here. And then, if you didn't, I thought perhaps I'd write to some of my friends in the city, and see if any of them wanted to come up for a few weeks."
"You are a brave little girl, Dorothy," said Mrs. Faulkner, looking into the eager anxious eyes upturned to hers; "and I must tell you how much I appreciate your love for your grandmother, and your courage and pluck in taking up this burden of the family fortunes. I have watched you through the week, and I have noticed your many little self-denials and your unfailing patience and perseverance.Iknow who walked over to Woodport and back yesterday in the hot sun, in order that I might have cream for my peaches last night at dinner."
"Oh, how did you know?" cried Dorothy, blushing at her friend's praise; "but there was really nobody to send,—the children had been on several errands,—and so I just went myself."
"Yes, I know it; and that is only one instance that shows your determination to have things right. And with that plucky perseverance of yours, and with your pleasant house, and good helpers, I see no reason why you shouldn't take a few more boarders if you can get the right kind. Of course it wouldn't annoy Mr. Faulkner nor myself to have some other people here; and even if it did, we would have no right or wish to stand in your way. When you reach the stage of brass bands, and Saturday hops, that will be time for us to leave you, and push on into the wilderness."
"You needn't begin to pack your things to-day," said Dorothy, smiling, "as it isn't at all likely I can persuade anybody to come,—let alone a brass band."
"Suppose I present you with two more guests," said Mrs. Faulkner.
"Oh," cried Dorothy, "do you know of anybody? Who are they?"
"You may not like them altogether. They are two ladies who are now over at the Horton House. They are not enjoying it there, and they asked me to let them know if I found any place which I thought they would like. I'm sure they would like it here, and I know they would be glad to come; but, to be honest about it, they are a little fussy in some ways. They are spinsters, from Boston, and though they are refined and well-bred ladies, they are sometimes a little exacting in their requirements."
"I wouldn't mind what their requirements were, if I could meet them to their satisfaction."
"You mustn't take that stand too strictly, Dorothy dear; it is well to try to give your guests satisfaction, but some requirements are unreasonable, and it is a mistake to grant them. If these ladies come, you must exercise your judgment in your treatment of them, for they're the kind who are quite likely to impose on your good nature."
"Do you think they would come? How can I find out about them?"
"Yes, I'm sure they would come; and if you wish me to, I will write to them."
"Oh, thank you; I wish you would, please; that is, after I have spoken to grandma, and to the other children about it. What are their names?"
"Van Arsdale. Miss Marcia and Miss Amanda. They are quite as imposing as their names sound; but you need not be really afraid of them. Remember the Faulkners will always protect you from their ferocity."
Dorothy laughed; and kissing her good friend, ran away to find the other children. Having gathered them together, they all went up to Grandma Dorrance's room for a caucus.
"It's a new plan!" exclaimed Dorothy, perching herself on grandma's bureau. As a rule, the more excited the Dorrances were, the higher seats they selected. At present the twins were sitting on the headboard of the bed, and Fairy was making unsuccessful endeavors to climb up on the mantelpiece.
Grandma Dorrance, well accustomed to these gymnastics, sat in her easy chair, and placidly awaited Dorothy's further announcement.
"You see," Dorothy went on, "we've made, and we are making a great success of our boarders. I've just had a talk with Mrs. Faulkner and she's quite satisfied; and goodness knowsweare."
"Yes," said Fairy, from a heap of sofa-pillows into which she had just tumbled, "I do think they are the loveliest people. Why, Mr. Faulkner says he's going to send to New York for a book, a-purpose for me. It's a lovely book, all about bugs and slugs and ear-wigs. We went walking yesterday, and he showed me the funny little houses where beetles and things live in. Oh, heisa nice man!"
"Yes," said Dorothy, starting afresh; "it's a great success all around; and therefore, my beloved brethren, this is my plan. If two boarders are good, four boarders are twice as good; and so, what do you think of taking two more guests into our hotel?"
"At the same rates?" asked Lilian.
"Yes," said Dorothy, "at the same rates. Just think! that will give us sixty dollars a week income, and it won't cost us much more than that to live, even with four boarders."
"Hooray!" cried Leicester, flinging a pillow up in the air, and catching it on his head, "hooray for the great financier! proprietor of the Dorrance Domain!"
This was followed by a series of ear-splitting cheers; a performance in which the Dorrances had indulged but seldom during the past week; but just now the occasion really seemed to demand it.
"Who are your millionaire friends?" asked Leicester, "and when do they arrive?"
"Oh, they don't know yet themselves, that they're coming," said Dorothy, airily; "and they're two ladies, and their name is Van Arsdale, and they're very aristocratic, and they want to be waited on every minute, and I'm sure they won't want any of us to make a speck of noise while they're here."
A long low growl from Lilian, started the Dorrance groan, and the other three joined in with such force and energy, that the next day Mr. Faulkner inquired privately of grandma the meaning of the fearful sounds he had heard the day before.
When they were quiet again, Dorothy explained the whole thing rationally, and they were all much pleased with her plan.
Grandma feared that the added responsibility would be too much for her oldest granddaughter; but the rest all promised to help, and the girls agreed that they could do even more of the parlor and dining-room work, and so give Tessie more time to help Kathleen in the kitchen.
"I suppose the Van Arsdale ladies will register," said Leicester, with a sudden remembrance of his last experience as a clerk.
"Yes, of course," said Dorothy; "and we mustn't giggle this time, either. I'm not at all sure they'll come, but I hope they will; and of course, if they do they must be received properly."
The Van Arsdale ladies did decide to come. On the receipt of Mrs. Faulkner's note they concluded that the Dorrance Domain was just the place for them, and they immediately began to make preparations for leaving the Horton House.
"Though it's a very queer thing, Amanda," the elder Miss Van Arsdale said to her sister, "it's a very queer thing for a young girl to be proprietor of a hotel. I must confess I don't understand it. And I'm not sure I want to be mixed up with any such ridiculous doings."
"But Mrs. Faulkner says that it's all right; and that we four will be the only boarders. That seems to me very exclusive. You know the Faulkners are all right,—her mother was a Frelinghuysen. I'm not afraid to risk it, as long as they recommend it."
"Well, we'll try it for a week, as Mrs. Faulkner advised; and if we don't like the girl proprietor, we won't have to stay any longer."
"I don't know what she can be, I'm sure. She can't be of our kind."
Judging from the effect presented to the eye, the Van Arsdale ladies and Dorothy Dorrance were not of the same kind.
They were both elderly spinsters of the type that looks older than it really is, yet tries to seem younger. They were tall and spare with high cheek bones, and aquiline, aristocratic noses. These noses seemed to turn up at everything; and though literally they didn't turn up at all, yet the effect of turning up was always there. Their large, light blue eyes were capable of a powerful and penetrating gaze, that was apt to be extremely disconcerting to the object of their stare. Both ladies had really beautiful hair of a soft, gray color, which they wore rolled over high pompadours. They were wealthy, and though economical and even penurious in some respects, each possessed an inordinate love of dress, and was willing to spend large sums for gorgeous fabrics made up in the latest styles. The incongruity of these middle aged and far from beautiful spinsters, trailing around soft exquisite robes of dainty coloring, and exquisitely made, afforded much scope for wonderment and curiosity wherever they went.
But the sisters cared little or nothing for the comments passed upon them. They bought their clothes, and wore them, purely for their own selfish enjoyment; and met with stares of cold contempt, the half-sarcastic praises offered by some daring ladies at the hotel.
The day that the Van Arsdales were expected at the Dorrance Domain, Dorothy and Leicester were prepared to receive them as they had the others. Lilian and Fairy were allowed to witness the performance this time, on the strict conditions that they were not to laugh, and none of the four were to look at each other.
And so when the Horton House stage came over for the second time, Grandma Dorrance, the three Dorrance girls, and the two Faulkners were on the veranda, while Leicester stood nobly at his post in the office.
Mr. Hickox appeared duly, and made everything all right as usual. But when he assisted the Van Arsdale ladies out of the stage, he remarked to himself that his wife would certainly be surprised if she could see them dresses.
The elder Miss Van Arsdale wore a silk of the exquisite shade known as pastel blue; it was made with a jaunty little jacket, opening over an elaborate white lace waist. A long gold chain hung around her neck, from which depended innumerable lockets, charms, pencils, purses and vinaigrettes, in a bewildering array. Her blue hat was decked with white ostrich plumes, and though Dorothy had been prepared by Mrs. Faulkner for this display, yet she had not expected quite such a gorgeous spectacle.
Miss Amanda Van Arsdale followed her sister; she wore a liberty silk gown of an old rose color, and a hat with long black ostrich feathers. She wore no necklace, but from her belt was suspended a large square bag made entirely of overlapping plates of gold, in which doubtless she carried the various impedimenta that her sister exhibited.
Though over-elaborate, these costumes were made in the latest fashion, and they looked like beautiful and costly gowns, which by some absurd mistake had been put on the wrong wearers.
The two advanced with a haughty and somewhat supercilious air, and Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner rose to greet them. Introductions to the Dorrances followed, and then Miss Van Arsdale raised herlorgnon, and treated Dorothy to a prolonged inspection.
"And you are the proprietor of this hotel?" she said.
"Yes," said Dorothy, smiling; "I am."
"Well," said Miss Van Arsdale, "you can't fool me. You look to me quite capable of being the proprietor of anything."
And somehow, in spite of her peculiar appearance and her brusque ways, Dorothy felt at once a decided liking for Miss Marcia Van Arsdale.
Mrs. Faulkner gave a little nod of satisfaction as she saw the good understanding between these two, and Mr. Faulkner said, genially:
"Yes, we think our proprietor a very capable young woman."
Then Dorothy ushered the ladies in to the office and paused at the desk.
Leicester confessed afterwards that he almost fell off his stool when he saw Dorothy bringing in two Birds of Paradise, with their feathers freshly painted. But at the time he preserved a straight face, and politely offered the register and the pen.
Miss Marcia, in a bold, dashing hand, signed for them both, and then Dorothy went herself to their rooms with them,—the faithful Hickox bringing up the rear.
On reaching the rooms, Dorothy offered to assist the ladies in removing their hats and veils, but Miss Marcia only stared at her. "Send me a maid," she said; "a lady's maid."
Then Dorothy, who was acting under Mrs. Faulkner's direction, said quietly:
"Miss Van Arsdale, this is not a fully equipped hotel, and we do not have ladies' maids. The chambermaid, Tessie, will attend to your rooms, and such outside service as you may require. Also, my sisters and I will be glad to help you occasionally, as we often help one another. But a regular ladies' maid to assist at your toilet, we cannot provide. May I help you unpin your veil?"
Miss Marcia Van Arsdale looked at Dorothy again through her glasses.
"You're the right sort," she said, "and I like your plain speaking. I'm plain-spoken myself. We'll get along all right, and I shall send for my parrot."
"Oh," exclaimed Dorothy, "have you a parrot?"
"Yes, a very beautiful and valuable bird. But I never take her anywhere, until I know just what sort of a place it's going to be. I shall send for her to-morrow."
Not knowing the high esteem in which Miss Van Arsdale held her parrot, Dorothy did not fully appreciate the magnitude of this compliment. So she merely said, "We shall be very glad to welcome Polly."
"I do not allow her to be called Polly," said Miss Van Arsdale, with a sudden return to her supercilious manner. "My bird's name is Mary,—and I strongly disapprove of nicknames of any sort."
A parrot named Mary struck Dorothy as very funny, but she was learning to control her sense of humor when necessary, and she replied: "Very well, Miss Van Arsdale, we shall be glad to welcome Mary."
"Thank you," said Miss Van Arsdale, formally; "and I will ask you to have her cage moved about at my direction, during the day, in accordance with the sun and the weather."
Dorothy considered a minute, and concluded that this was one of the times to humor Miss Van Arsdale.
So she said, "I will see to it that the cage is placed wherever you desire."
The repetition of this conversation to the others caused great hilarity.
"Mary!" cried Leicester; "a parrot called Mary! butIshould not dare be so familiar with the bird as to call her Mary. I shall say Miss Mary, and shall always address her with my best dancing-school bow."
The parrot arrived duly, and proved to be such a superior bird, and so interesting and attractive, that the children all fell in love with her. The name of Polly was entirely unsuited to such a dignified creature, and Mary seemed far more appropriate.
The bird's plumage was of brilliant coloring, and Lilian declared that the Van Arsdale ladies copied their own clothes from Miss Mary's. The parrot was an exceedingly fine talker, and readily picked up new phrases.
Whenever the Van Arsdale ladies entered the room, Mary would remark, "Hurrah for Miss Marcia!" or, "Hurrah for Miss Amanda!" as the case might be. This hurrahing was quite in line with the Dorrances' own mode of expression, and they soon taught Mary to hurrah for each of them by name.
Although on the whole, the Misses Van Arsdale were satisfactory boarders, they were far more difficult than the easy-going Faulkners. Miss Marcia had a most irritating way of popping out of her room, and calling over the banister, "Clerk, clerk!"
Since the moment of registration, she had looked upon Leicester as the official clerk of the hotel, and applied to him a dozen times a day for things that she wanted or thought she wanted.
Usually these applications were made by screaming from the head of the staircase. Sometimes the request was for stationery,—again for hot water, warm water, cold water, or ice water. Miss Amanda, too, made similar demands, and was given to calling for a glass of milk at five o'clock in the morning, or a few sandwiches after everybody had retired for the night.
But Dorothy was learning that the way to success is not always a primrose path, and she cheerfully did her best to accede to such of these demands as she considered just and reasonable. And she tried, too, to look at the justice and reasonableness from the standpoint of her guests' rather than her own opinions.
The children had agreed that whenever Miss Marcia desired Mary's cage moved, any one of the four was to do it. And it was fortunate that the task was thus divided, for Miss Marcia was fussy, and twenty times a day, or more, one of the Dorrances might be seen carrying the large cage from the hall to the veranda, from the veranda to the parlor, from the parlor to the upper balcony, and so on.
But as careful attention to Mary's welfare was one of the principal conditions of the Van Arsdales' continued stay at the Dorrance Domain, and too, as the children were one and all devoted to the bird, this work was not objected to.
Dorothy was most anxious to keep her four boarders through the rest of the summer. For the plan was working successfully, and though providing a well-spread and even bounteous table, Dorothy found she could save a little money. She was not avaricious nor mercenary, but she longed to be able, at the close of the season, to present Grandma Dorrance with at least a small sum of money, to help pay their winter expenses.
And so, when Miss Marcia one day made a proposition to her, Dorothy hailed it with delight.
The suggestion was that Miss Van Arsdale should ask her niece to come up to the Dorrance Domain to board, and to bring her whole family.
The family consisted of Mrs. Black, three small children and two nurses; Mr. Black might possibly come up occasionally, but would remain only a few days at a time.
Children! Dorothy remembered only too well, how children were objected to in boarding-houses, and she wondered if she dare undertake to have them in her hotel. She realized, too, that six or seven more people would necessitate some radical changes in her methods, and in her household appointments. Indeed, it meant a change from an experiment to the real thing. It meant assuming obligations much more formal than she was under towards her present guests.
On the other hand, Mrs. Black was wealthy, Miss Van Arsdale said, and quite willing to pay generously for all she received.
"I want to do it, Miss Marcia," said Dorothy,—"I want to do it very much; but it is a big question to decide. So I'll take twenty-four hours to think it over, and to discuss it with the others, and to-morrow I will let you know."
At the family conference on the subject, Grandma Dorrance said No. The gentle old lady was more than usually decided, and she said, that while the Faulkners and Van Arsdales were charming people, and more like visitors than boarders, a family of children, with nurses, was an altogether different matter, and meant far more trouble and complications than Dorothy could realize.
"Oh, grannymother dear," said Dorothy, "I don't think so. Miss Marcia says that Mrs. Black is a lovely lady, not a bit fussy; and children and nurses can't be as much responsibility as grown people. Why, they wouldn't be critical at all."
"Not critical, perhaps, but far more troublesome in their own way."
"Oh, I don't know," said Leicester; "the reason people didn't want us children in boarding-houses was because we made so much noise. Now we don't care how much noise these kids make, and there's room enough for the people who do care, to get away from the racket."
"We would have to have more servants," said Lilian; "and wouldn't that cut down the profits a good deal?"
"I've been thinking about that," said Dorothy, "and I've come to this conclusion. If we should take all these people, we would have to get another chambermaid, and another helper in the kitchen. A young girl to pare the vegetables, and help with the dish washing. Of course with so many extra people, more waitresses will be necessary; but as you say, Lilian, if we hire a lot of servants it will make our profits pretty slim. And so I propose that we three girls wait on the table."
"Oh, no, children," cried Grandma Dorrance; "I won't allow anything of that sort!"
"Now wait a minute, grandma," said Dorothy; "don't say things that you'll just have to take back afterwards. There is no disgrace at all in waiting on a table. Lots of college girls and boys do it right along, in the colleges,—and they go to summer hotels, too, and wait on the tables there. Now we children want to earn some money to help you; after you've taken care of us all these years, I'm sure it's no more than right. And if this way of earning money isn't easier and pleasanter than going into a store, I'll give up. What do the rest of you say?"
"I say, let's go ahead," declared Leicester; "if the four of us agree, we can persuade grandma. She never really refused us anything in our lives. And as to waiting on the table, I'd just as leave do it myself, as not. As you say, Dot, lots of college fellows do it, and it's no more disgrace than being president. And then we can all eat by ourselves afterwards, and have a jolly old time."
"I'd love to wait on the table," said Fairy; "I think it would be gorgeous fun. Shall we all wear caps, and aprons with big white wings sticking out of the shoulders?"
"No," said Dorothy, "not caps. We'll wear white aprons, but not with shoulder-ruffles."
"I shall have shoulder-ruffles on mine," said Leicester, decidedly; "and I shall wear a cap, too."
Even grandma laughed at this; but Dorothy said, "No, Less, I don't want you to wait on the table, at least not until we really need you. We girls can do it, with Tessie's help."
"Well, whatcanI do?" said Leicester; "it won't take all my time to register the people who come."
"There'll be enough for you to do, old fellow," said Dorothy; "you can go to market every day, and answer Miss Marcia's calls, and move Mary around. Then if you have any time left, you can amuse the three Black babies."
"Pickaninnies, are they?" said Leicester; "then I'll fill them up on watermelon."
Although Grandma Dorrance weakened somewhat in her disapproval of the plan, yet it was not until Mrs. Faulkner was called in, and her opinion asked, that grandma gave an entire consent.
Mrs. Faulkner was so sweet and sensible about the whole matter, and so judicious in her advice and suggestions, that grandma was much influenced by her view of the case.
Mrs. Faulkner quite agreed with Dorothy about the girls acting as waitresses, and strongly approved of the children's desire to add to their finances.
She also advised Dorothy to charge good prices for the accommodation of the children and nurses, because, she said, they were quite as great a responsibility in their way, as Mrs. Black herself.
As Dorothy had hoped, Mr. Bill Hodges was able to recommend a young girl whom he knew, to help Kathleen in the kitchen; and Tessie knew of a competent chambermaid who would be glad to come up from the city for a while.
So Dorothy wrote to Mrs. Black, and stated frankly what she had to offer, and what her rates were, and Mrs. Black telegraphed back that she might expect the whole family as soon as they could get there.
And so it came to pass, that again Leicester stood behind his open register, and the proprietor of the Dorrance Domain awaited her new relay of guests.
Though Dorothy was not as much embarrassed this time, as when she expected her first guests, and had far less sense of humor in the situation, she had a better poise and a greater self-confidence, which came necessarily from her so far successful experiences.
But when she saw the cavalcade approaching, her heart began to beat a little faster, and worse than that, she found it impossible to keep from laughing.
The Blacks had come up by rail, and had apparently annexed all the available vehicles at the station to transport them. There was a rockaway first, then two buggies, then two large spring wagons, and then a buckboard. In the wagons were several trunks, three baby-carriages and a number of queer-shaped forms carefully wrapped, which afterwards proved to be portable bath-tubs, a cradle and a folding crib.
Dorothy began to think that for once, Mr. Hickox would not prove equal to the occasion; but he reassured her with his usual statements that it would be all right, and that he would look after things.
The rockaway came first, and Mr. and Mrs. Black were helped out by Mr. Hickox in his most official manner.
Mrs. Black was a delicate, helpless-looking little lady; very pretty, in a pale blonde way, and seemingly very dependent on her big, good-looking husband. Mr. Benjamin Black was one of those hearty, cordial-mannered men, who make friends at once.
He brought Mrs. Black up the steps, and advancing to Dorothy with outstretched hand, said pleasantly: "I'm sure this is our proprietor, Miss Dorrance."
"Yes," said Dorothy, put at her ease at once, and shaking hands with them both; "I'm very glad to see you."
"We are glad to be here," said Mr. Black. "The trip was very warm and tiresome. But this place is most charming."
"And so cool and quiet," said Mrs. Black, sinking into a chair, and looking, Dorothy thought, as if she never meant to rise again.
By this time the other vehicles were depositing their cargoes, both human and freight, and for a moment Dorothy wondered if the Dorrance Domain were large enough to hold the entire collection.
One of the nurses was French, and was talking volubly in her own language to the two children who held her by the hands. One of these children, a girl of five years, was answering her nurse, also in French; while the other, a younger boy, was crying loudly, but whether in French or English, nobody could quite make out.
The other nurse was a large and stout German woman, who was crooning a German folk-song to the baby she carried in her arm. Apparently the baby cared little for German music, for the small infant was pounding its nurse's face with both tiny fists, and making strange gurgling sounds which might be caused either by joy or grief.
All these people came up on the veranda; and after persuading one of the drivers to stay and help him, Mr. Hickox began to carry the luggage into the house.
With a successful effort at composure, Dorothy paid no attention to the children and nurses, and conducted Mr. Black to the office.
"Ah," said he to Leicester; "how do you do, sir, how do you do? Fine place you have up here. Very fine place. Glad I brought my family. Hope they won't make you any trouble."
As the commotion on the veranda seemed to increase each moment, Leicester did not echo this hope, but spoke pleasantly to Mr. Black, and turned the register towards him.
The gentleman registered Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Black, Miss Sylvia Black, Master Montmorency Black, Miss Gwendolen Genevieve Black, Mlle. Celestine, and Fraülein Lisa Himmelpfennig.
Leicester looked proudly at this array of names which reached half-way down the page, and ringing for Mr. Hickox, he gave him the keys of the rooms set aside for the party, and the caravan started up-stairs.
Dorothy went with them, both because she thought it proper to do so, and because she felt an interest in seeing the family properly distributed.
Leicester left his official desk, and found plenty to do in disposing of the baby-carriages, and the other paraphernalia.
It was strange, Dorothy thought to herself as she came down-stairs, how much more easily, and as a matter of course she took the Blacks' arrival than she had the previous ones.
"I must have been born for a hotel proprietor," she said to herself; "for I don't feel any worry or anxiety about the dinner or anything. I justknoweverything will be all right."
As she reached the foot of the staircase, she met Fairy, who was just carrying Mary's cage into the north parlor.
"Hurrah for Dorothy!" croaked the parrot, catching sight of her.
"Ah, Miss Mary, you'll have a lot of new names to hurrah for now, and jaw-breakers at that. I shouldn't wonder if they'd break even a parrot's jaw, and they may bend that big yellow beak of yours."
"She can learn them," said Fairy, confidently. "Miss Mary can learn anything. She's the cleverest, smartest, educatedest bird in the whole world. There'snothingshe can't learn."
"Pretty Mary," said the bird in its queer, croaking voice; "move Mary's cage. Hurrah for Fairy!"
"There, just hear that!" exclaimed Fairy, proudly; "now I rather guess a bird like that could learn to hurrah for anybody."
"Well," said Dorothy, "but you don't know yet that these children's names are Gwendolen Genevieve, and Montmorency."
"What!" cried Fairy, nearly dropping the cage, "of course no parrot could learn such names as those."
"And Miss Marcia objects to nicknames," said Dorothy. "These new people aren't a bit like their aunts, though."
"When are they coming down?" asked Lilian, who had joined her sisters; "I wish they'd get that procession of baby-carriages started. I want to see the show."
At that moment, the French nurse, Celestine, came down-stairs with the two older children. The little ones had been freshly dressed, and looked extremely pretty. Sylvia was in crisp white muslin, with fluttering bows of pink ribbon, and Montmorency wore a boyish garb of white piqué.
"Won't you speak to me?" asked Lilian, putting out her hand to the little girl.
"No," said the child, hiding her face in her nurse's apron; "do away. I's af'aid."
"Mees Sylvie,—she is afraid of everything," said Celestine; "she is a naughty—naughty,—a bad ma'amselle."
"No, no," cried Sylvia; "me not bad. Me dood ma'selle."
"Me dood!" announced three year old Montmorency; "me no ky. On'y babies ky. Me bid man!"
"You are good," said Fairy, "and you're a nice big man. Come with me, and I'll show you where I'm going to put this pretty green bird."
"Ess," said the little boy, and grasping hold of Fairy's frock he willingly trotted along by her side.
Whereupon Sylvia, overcoming her bashfulness, concluded she, too, wanted to go with the green bird.
So Celestine and her charges accompanied the Dorrance girls to the north parlor, and there they found the Van Arsdale ladies, who sat waiting in state to receive their newly arrived relatives.