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diff --git a/37459-h/37459-h.htm b/37459-h/37459-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..38382ff --- /dev/null +++ b/37459-h/37459-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12411 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> + <meta content="Polly in New York" name="DC.Title"/> + <meta content="Lillian Elizabeth Roy" name="DC.Creator"/> + <meta content="en" name="DC.Language"/> + <meta content="1922" name="DC.Created"/> + <meta name="generator" content="ppgen (1.21) generated Sep 13, 2011 08:28 AM" /> + <title>Polly in New York</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h2 {text-align:left; font-weight:normal; + font-size:1.2em; margin-top:4em; margin-bottom:2em;} + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; + font-size:0.9em; margin-top:1.5em; margin-bottom:1em;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver; clear:both;} + .sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align:center;} + .larger {font-size:larger;} + .smaller {font-size:smaller;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + div.center>:first-child {margin: .5em auto 0 auto;text-align:center;} + div.center p {margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly in New York, by Lillian Elizabeth Roy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Polly in New York + +Author: Lillian Elizabeth Roy + +Illustrator: H. S. Barbour + +Release Date: September 17, 2011 [EBook #37459] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY IN NEW YORK *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from images made available by the HathiTrust +Digital Library.) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i001' id='i001'></a> +<img src="images/illus-fpc.jpg" alt="ELEANOR HELD OUT THE SEAL, BUT JIM LOOKED FORLORN. (Page 77)" title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>ELEANOR HELD OUT THE SEAL, BUT JIM LOOKED FORLORN. (<em>Page 77</em>)</span> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>POLLY</span></p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.6em;font-weight:bold;'>IN NEW YORK</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p>BY</p> +<p><span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY</span></p> +<p> </p> +<p><em>Author of</em></p> +<p> </p> +<p>POLLY OF PEBBLY PIT, POLLY IN NEW YORK,</p> +<p>POLLY AND HER FRIENDS ABROAD, POLLY’S</p> +<p>BUSINESS VENTURE.</p> +<p> </p> +<p>ILLUSTRATED BY</p> +<p>H. S. BARBOUR</p> +<p> </p> +<p>NEW YORK</p> +<p>GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p>PUBLISHERS</p> +<p> </p> +<p>Made in the United States of America</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<h1>POLLY IN NEW YORK</h1> +<h2><a name='chI' id='chI'></a>CHAPTER I—IN THE BIG CITY</h2> +<p> +The long Pullman train, that left Denver +behind and carried Polly Brewster away on her +first venture from the ranch-home, was fitted up +as luxuriously as capital could do it. Eleanor +Maynard, Polly’s bosom friend, enjoyed her companion’s +awe and wonderment—that a mere <em>car</em> +should be so furnished. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla,” whispered Polly, furtively glancing +about, “how different are these cars from the ones +that come in and go out at Oak Creek!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor, whose pet name was Nolla, laughed. +“I should think they would be, Polly. Why, +those ‘ancients’ that rock back and forth between +Denver and Oak Creek, are the ‘only originals’ +now in existence. They’ll be in Barnum’s Show +next Season as curios.” +</p> +<p> +Polly seemed to fully appreciate the comfort of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_1'></a>1</span> +her traveling carriage, and remarked, “One would +hardly believe these cars are going at all! They +run so smoothly and without any awful screeching +of the joints.” +</p> +<p> +Anne Stewart, the teacher to whose charge +these two girls had been committed, had been +studying the time-table, but she smiled at Polly’s +words. Then she turned to her mother, a sweet-faced +woman who was enjoying the trip almost as +much as the young girls were, and said: “Mother, +we’ll have at least seven hours in Chicago before +we have to take the New York train. We can visit +Paul all that time.” +</p> +<p> +“Goody! Then Poll can visit John and I can +see Daddy,” exclaimed Eleanor, eagerly. “But +we must first charter the wash-room to turn +ourselves from dusty travelers into respectable +citizens.” +</p> +<p> +“There isn’t a fleck of dust to be seen, Anne,” +objected Polly, glancing around the tidy interior, +then at herself and friends. +</p> +<p> +“Wait till after we have crossed the plains and +passed through all kinds of towns—we won’t look +like the same people.” +</p> +<p> +To Polly, that journey was a source of great interest +and fun. The dining-car, the folding tables +for games or work, the sleeping arrangements—all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_2'></a>2</span> +were so strangely different from the vast open-air +life of the ranch. +</p> +<p> +Then the express train reached Chicago and the +recess hours were filled with greetings, visits and +then good-bys, before the little party of four was +on its last lap of the journey. +</p> +<p> +After leaving Chicago, Eleanor asked curiously: +“What did you think of our city, Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“I never saw such crowds of troubled people! +Everyone looked as if the worries of the universe +rested upon his mind. And not one soul walked +or acted as if there was a moment to spare before +the end of the world would throw everything into +chaos!” +</p> +<p> +Polly’s graphic description caused her companions +to laugh, and Eleanor added: “If that +is what you think of Chicago, just wait until you +reach New York. The folks, there, are simply +wild! Now Chicago is considered quite slow, in +comparison.” +</p> +<p> +Polly stared unbelievingly at Eleanor, and Anne +Stewart laughed. But Mrs. Stewart placed a calm +hand over the amazed girl’s throbbing wrist, and +said sweetly: “Nolla is joking as usual.” +</p> +<p> +The four members which composed this little +group of travelers arrived at Grand Central just +before noon. Polly gazed in consternation at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_3'></a>3</span> +vast station where the constant going and coming +of trains and people made a most interesting sight +for her. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll stop at the Commodore for a few days, +girls, as it is so convenient for us,” remarked +Anne, telling a porter to conduct them to the hotel +mentioned. +</p> +<p> +Placed in a comfortable suite, Anne remarked: +“I think we will call up the Evans or the Latimers, +next. You remember, we were told to let them +know the moment we arrived.” +</p> +<p> +The others agreed to this suggestion, so Anne +telephoned the two families. Mrs. Latimer was +out, but Mrs. Evans said she would come right +down town to meet the new-comers. +</p> +<p> +“Well, we can unpack our bags while we are +waiting for her,” suggested Anne. “But we must +manage to get to a store this afternoon, and do +some shopping for Polly.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear me! I was hoping you would show us all +the sky-scrapers I’ve read about,” said Polly, +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“I planned to let the sight-seeing wait for a few +days, as we <em>must</em> secure a place to live in, first of +all. Here it is the middle of September, and I +have to start school work the first of October, you +know. In a great city like New York, the desirable +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_4'></a>4</span> +apartments are generally taken as early as +July and August. So we are up against it, in +beginning to seek so late in the season.” +</p> +<p> +“But we can’t hunt at night, Anne, and you +might take us out to show us the Great White +Way—as the boys call it,” urged Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Evans came down in time to have luncheon +with the Westerners, and in the hour she visited +with them, it was learned that Mrs. Latimer and +she had scoured the uptown west-side for suitable +apartments for Mrs. Stewart, but everything had +been leased long before. She concluded with: +</p> +<p> +“So I really do not see what you are going to +do, unless you just happen to stumble over a place +which has recently been resigned. There is absolutely +no use in doing any place above Ninety-sixth +street, as we sought diligently from that street +up as far as One Hundred and Sixty-eighth street, +and not a decent thing to be seen or had!” +</p> +<p> +“But Ninety-sixth street is awfully far uptown, +isn’t it?” asked Anne, to whom the city was as yet +a small middle-west town. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear, no! It is about the center of the +city, between North and South, these days.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sure we will find just what we want, dear +Mrs. Evans, but we are grateful to you for being +so kind to us,” said Polly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span> +</p> +<p> +“My dear child, I feel that I have done <em>nothing</em> +in comparison to all you have done for me and +mine. To know that my dear brother had friends +during the last days of his life, means so much to +me. I always had a horrible feeling that he died +in the Klondike without money or friends;” and +Mrs. Evans hurriedly dried the tears welling up +in her eyes. +</p> +<p> +Of course, that launched the conversation about +Old Man Montresor, and so interested were all +concerned, that Mrs. Evans started when she +heard the mantel clock chime the hour. +</p> +<p> +“Merciful goodness! Here am I—my first +call, and staying all day!” she laughed. +</p> +<p> +“It’s not late, Mrs. Evans. We were only going +to look up a first-class shop where Polly can +buy a few things,” replied Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps I can be of service in recommending +a place?” +</p> +<p> +Several shops of quality were spoken of, and +as these were located on Fifth avenue, not far +from Forty-second street, everyone felt relieved. +It would not take much time to do this necessary +shopping, but Mrs. Stewart preferred to remain +at the hotel. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Evans said good-by and the three young +folks walked to Fifth avenue. It was about four +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span> +o’clock and the avenue presented an endless stream +of automobiles—one line going down, and the +other line going uptown. The crowds of people +hurrying to and fro made Polly tremble. +</p> +<p> +“For goodness’ sake, Anne, where <em>do</em> all these +folks come from, and where are they rushing +to?” +</p> +<p> +Anne and Eleanor laughed. +</p> +<p> +“Well! If this is your wonderful Fifth avenue, +I don’t think much of it,” declared Polly, a few +moments later. +</p> +<p> +“Why—it’s simply great!” exclaimed Eleanor, +having a far different view-point of the city. +</p> +<p> +“Great! Why, just look how narrow the street +is? Main street, in Oak Creek, is twice as wide. +And Denver has nicer streets than this famous +alley you hear so much about,” scorned Polly. +</p> +<p> +Again her companions laughed merrily. At this +moment a traffic policeman sounded a shrill +whistle. Instantly the mass of pedestrians, backed +up on the curbs, started to cross. Or to use Polly’s +own description in the letter she wrote home that +night: “Really, dearies, they catapulted back and +forth like rockets! We had to rush with them, or +be trampled upon. It is just awful! +</p> +<p> +“And such freaks, mother! Nolla says it is +style. Well, all I can say is, spare me from such +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span> +outrageous styles! Most every woman and girl I +met had faces covered thick with layers of white +chalk, with a daub of red on each cheek, and lips +as scarlet as a clown’s. In fact, I had to stand +stock-still and look at one queer creature—she +looked exactly as if she was made up for a circus. +Anne and Nolla laugh at me, all the time. But I +don’t care, so! These horrid painted things are +not <em>nice</em>! +</p> +<p> +“If I hadn’t set my heart on being an interior +decorator, I’d take up lecturing, and teach these +crazy New Yorkers how to look and enjoy a simple +life.” +</p> +<p> +From the above account you can see how one +day’s experience in New York impressed the girl +of the Mountain Ranges in the West. +</p> +<p> +Polly, accustomed as she was to the overstocked +store in Oak Creek, where shelves were stacked +high with all sorts of merchandise, opened her eyes +as Anne led her into a quiet parlor-like room that +opened directly from Fifth avenue. She stared +around for a glimpse of the gowns she expected +to see; but nothing like one was to be seen. The +dignified lady who met Anne, and a few other well-dressed +women who conversed in low tones with +each other, did not look like Polly’s idea of shop-girls. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span> +</p> +<p> +Anne’s lady conducted them to a lift, and they +shot up two stories. Again they came out into a +lovely lounging-room, but still no sign of dresses. +The lady pushed a button, and another woman +hurried in. +</p> +<p> +“Measurements of this young lady. She will +need several gowns for afternoon and street wear; +possibly, an evening dress.” +</p> +<p> +Then Polly was scientifically measured, and in +a short time a number of models were brought for +her inspection and approval. These were placed +upon forms, and every desirable detail of the +gowns was pointed out to Anne and the girls. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I just love that one, Poll!” cried Eleanor, +gazing with rapt eyes at an imported model. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it clumsy at the back? And see how narrow +the bottom of the skirt is. Maybe they didn’t +have enough goods to make it any wider?” commented +Polly. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor giggled but Anne explained to Polly. +The saleslady seemed not to have heard the western +girl’s objection to the gown. +</p> +<p> +Then it was tried on Polly, and she saw how +very becoming it was. But when she endeavored +to walk over to the full-length mirror, she almost +fell down upon the rug. +</p> +<p> +“Mercy, Anne! I never can amble about in this +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +binder! Get me something sensible,” complained +Polly. +</p> +<p> +But Eleanor liked the dress and as it fitted her, +also, she said she would take it as long as Polly +didn’t. +</p> +<p> +“Take it and welcome, Nolla! but I pity <em>you</em> +if you try to scoot over the crossings of Fifth avenue +in <em>that</em> skirt,” laughed Polly. +</p> +<p> +Other gowns were brought and Polly finally +found several that she liked, with wide enough +skirts to suit her comfort. Then Anne asked for +the bills. The list was added up and when the +total was mentioned Polly almost fainted. If she +had not been seated, she might have crumpled to +the floor. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll take that gown with us, the others you +may send,” said Anne, taking up the one to be +wrapped. Then she gave the name and address +where the other dresses were to be sent. A fat +roll of yellow bills now came from Anne’s hand-bag, +and she paid the enormous sum—or, at least, +Polly thought it was enormous for so few dresses. +</p> +<p> +Safely out of hearing of the fashionable sales-ladies, +Polly whispered: “Anne, you paid <em>hundreds</em> +of dollars for those things!” +</p> +<p> +Anne nodded, smilingly. Eleanor said: “Why, +that wasn’t much for what we got, Poll. The dress +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span> +I bought is <em>imported</em>! And a model, at that. It +was a bargain at that price.” +</p> +<p> +Polly sighed. Would she ever be able to accommodate +herself to such a changed life as this +one now seemed to be? Her friends laughed at +the sigh and expression of doubt on her face. +</p> +<p> +As Anne led her protegées past the hotel desk, +a very polite clerk said: “A ’phone call for you, +Miss Stewart, at five-ten P. M.” +</p> +<p> +Anne was handed the slip and read: “Mr. +Latimer called up. Said he would call again at +six-thirty.” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe he wants us to go somewhere, to-night!” +suggested Eleanor, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Well, you won’t go to-night, if he does ask +you. It’s bed at nine, for everyone of us, because +we have a hard day of house-hunting before us, +to-morrow,” decreed Anne, courageously. +</p> +<p> +But Eleanor was given no cause to argue that +evening, for Mr. Latimer called up to invite them +all to go to the Mardi Gras at Coney Island the +following evening. He said the Evans and Latimers +would call at the hotel, in two cars, about six +o’clock and take them to supper at the Island. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, goody! I never saw Coney Island but I’ve +heard so much about it!” cried Eleanor, dancing +about the room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span> +</p> +<p> +“I have read how dreadful a place it is,” ventured +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“That’s another point of view, Polly. If you +go down there to enjoy the fun and games, and +see the ocean, then you will have nothing but frolic +and sea. But if one is in quest of crime, then it +can be found festering there, just as it is in every +other section of a large city,” explained Anne. +</p> +<p> +“But we are only going for a frolic,” added +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“I should hope so!” Polly said, so fervently, +that Anne had to laugh heartily. +</p> +<p> +After dinner that night, Anne said: “I think +Polly ought to see a sight that no other city can +offer—that is the wondrous advertising signs on +Broadway about Times Square, at night.” +</p> +<p> +“I am too weary to go out, daughter, but you +take the girls,” Mrs. Stewart remarked, so they +hurriedly donned their hats and gloves. +</p> +<p> +When they reached the famous corner of +Forty-second street and Broadway, and stood at +the uptown side of Times Square Triangle to look +at the lights, Polly was speechless. +</p> +<p> +“Why, it’s as bright as day, everywhere,” whispered +she. +</p> +<p> +“And just see the moving ads. up on the roofs!” +cried Eleanor, delighting in the scene. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span> +</p> +<p> +“I thought there were hordes of mad folks on +the streets this afternoon, but this beats everything!” +exclaimed Polly, watching both sides of +Broadway from her vantage ground. “Honestly, +Anne, do they not act obsessed, jostling and rushing +as if Death drove them? They never seem +to mind trolleys, autos, or policemen. They swirl +and fly every which way, regardless of everyone +and everything.” +</p> +<p> +“I just love this excitement!” sighed Eleanor, +smiling. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I hope to goodness we will live far +enough away from all this to let me forget it once +in a while,” said Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you’ll love it, too, pretty soon,” Eleanor +said, confidently. +</p> +<p> +“Never! This is Bedlam to me. When I write +home about it, I shall tell father that it reminds +me of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah when +fire and brimstone fell and destroyed those cities. +I bet the folks never acted any wilder, there, than +these New Yorkers do, here.” +</p> +<p> +Anne laughed at Polly’s vivid disgust, and suggested +that they return to the hotel. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, Anne! It is only eight-thirty. And +for New York that only begins an evening, you +know. Let’s get up on top of one of the buses on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span> +Fifth avenue and take the round trip. That ride +will show Polly lots of sights: the Flat Iron Building, +Riverside Drive and the Hudson, and heaps +of things.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor prevailed, and after a delightful drive +of an hour, the little party was glad to get to the +hotel and drop into bed. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span><a name='chII' id='chII'></a>CHAPTER II—HOUSE HUNTING IN NEW YORK</h2> +<p> +Before the westerners awake to the new day, +let us renew our acquaintance with them. +</p> +<p> +Polly Brewster, of Pebbly Pit, born and reared +on that wonderful ranch in Colorado where the +lava-jewels were found, is for the first time in her +fourteen years, away from home. As she is at the +most impressionable age, her wise mother authorized +Anne Stewart, the young teacher who had +spent the summer with the Brewsters and who was +engaged to John Brewster, to spare no money +when fitting Polly out for her life in New York. +Mrs. Brewster wished Polly to feel herself the +equal of anyone she met, if it pertained to dress. +And style was about the only thing that Polly +lacked, having all fine qualities in her character. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor Maynard, of Chicago, now Polly’s +dearest friend, never had to count the cost of anything, +as her father was the best known and richest +banker of that great city. But because of her ill +health, being a protegée of Anne Stewart for the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span> +past two years, this association had taught Eleanor +to think twice before she wasted her allowance. +</p> +<p> +And Anne Stewart, just past twenty-one, was +experienced for her age, because of her mother’s +dependence on her for most things, since the +father died many years before this story opens. +And Paul, her younger brother now at college in +Chicago (where the other boys also studied), was +there because his sister earned the money with +which to pay his expenses. Now that Anne +would participate in the shares of the gold mine +that had been discovered the day of the escape on +Grizzly Slide, the Stewarts had no need to practise +such strict economy as hitherto. +</p> +<p> +In the morning Polly was awakened by a knock +at her door. “Poll, someone wants to speak to +you over the ’phone,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Me? Why, who can it be? I never talked +into one of those funny little black horns in my +life, Anne. Wait, and help me.” +</p> +<p> +In another moment Polly, in a pretty negligée—one +of the purchases of the previous afternoon—ran +out of her room. Anne sat her upon a stool +before the small stand and showed her how to hold +the instrument. +</p> +<p> +“Hello!” whispered Polly, half afraid that +something would pop out at her. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +</p> +<p> +Eleanor had crept out of her room by this time, +and stood back of Polly, grinning at her friend’s +nervousness. +</p> +<p> +“Speak louder,” admonished Anne in Polly’s +ear. +</p> +<p> +“Hello!” shouted Polly, trying to adjust her +senses to the unfamiliar method of conversing with +an unseen individual. +</p> +<p> +Then a merry laugh and a familiar voice +sounded in her ear. Her face expressed amazement, +then pleased surprise, and then excitement. +She glanced up at Eleanor as the voice continued +speaking. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, we’re <em>so</em> glad to hear you are in the city. +Now we shall have <em>lovely</em> times!” exclaimed +Polly, finally. +</p> +<p> +A joyous boy’s voice continued talking but suddenly +it ceased, and Polly looked at Anne for an +explanation. The telephone receiver began clicking +strangely in her ear, and she held it at arm’s +length in fear of what might be going to explode +inside that queer tube. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor laughed and said, “Let me do the talking—it +sounds like Jim Latimer—is it?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Ken and he landed from the West at midnight, +and they are going to the Mardi Gras with +us to-night.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +</p> +<p> +Eleanor now took the telephone, and by the +time the operator managed to connect the interrupted +wires, she was ready to chat as if she had +nothing else to do. After ten minutes of silly boy +and girl talk, Anne whispered: “Oh, do stop, +Nolla! It is eight o’clock and we want to fill a +good day with work.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve got to ring off, now, Jim, but we’ll see you +to-night. Good-by!” Then Eleanor turned to her +companions, and said: +</p> +<p> +“Well, that’s good news, Polly! To have the +boys in the city to show us a good time before we +start school.” +</p> +<p> +Without saying anything to cause the girls to +object because this “good time” with the boys +might be indefinitely postponed, Anne made up her +mind that a home would and <em>must</em> be secured +before anyone planned for pleasure or fun. +</p> +<p> +That day, they sought in buildings on every +block uptown that had been left uninspected by +Mrs. Latimer and Mrs. Evans, but with no success. +If an apartment of five to seven rooms was +found, it would be found to be dark, dirty, or in +an objectionable neighborhood. They were ready +to pay a high rent for six or seven rooms, but +nothing suitable could be found. +</p> +<p> +When they returned to the hotel, at five o’clock, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span> +to wash and dress for the outing that evening, +everyone felt discouraged. “And these poor deluded +New Yorkers call the band-boxes we saw +to-day, apartment rooms?” said Polly, sneering +at the homes but not at the poor inmates. +</p> +<p> +“Owners dare not build the rooms larger, Polly, +because real estate in this city is so valuable and +taxable. Every inch of property has to be made +the most of. You know, that is why a builder, in +large cities, runs his structures up in the sky—the +sky doesn’t charge taxes on so much per foot, but +the ground the building stands on does.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I never thought of that! So that is why +New York houses go up twenty and thirty stories, +eh? The owner has to get his rents out of the +air and sky, and pay it over to the land-assessor,” +Polly exclaimed, in a tone of understanding. +</p> +<p> +Her friends laughed. “You are an apt pupil, +Poll,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +When their hosts for the evening called for +Anne and her party, they were all ready and eager +to start. So they were soon seated in the two cars; +Jim driving one, with Polly seated beside him, and +Ken, Eleanor and Anne in the back seat. Mrs. +Stewart was welcomed with the two ladies and the +two men in the other car. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Jim,” called Mr. Latimer, “you be sure +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span> +and trail me. I’ll go first, as I know every foot of +the road to Coney Island.” +</p> +<p> +Polly had never been in an automobile before, +and at first she felt frightened; but Jim chatted as +he drove, and seemed to take it all so naturally, +that she soon overcame the desire to clutch hold +on the side of the car. +</p> +<p> +There were hundreds of other automobiles all +going in the same direction, and when our two cars +reached the Boulevard, there was such a gay +stream of machines and people as the girls never +dreamed of before. Confetti, paper ribbons, +horns and what-not, were used by the passengers on +trolleys and in automobiles along the road until +the lighted spires of The Park, and other pleasure-giving +resorts of Coney Island were seen. +</p> +<p> +Polly looked so different in her smart clothes +that Jim Latimer wondered what had happened +to turn this pretty ranch girl into such a stunning +city girl in so short a time. +</p> +<p> +He kept glancing at her oval face, rounded with +health and vigor; at her straight little nose, her +wide-open, deep, soulful eyes that seemed to weigh +all things wisely; the heavy wavy hair that was +becomingly looped back from her face, and above +all, the rich glow in her cheeks, and the creamy +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span> +complexion and fine texture of her skin. “Nothing +made-up there!” thought Jim. +</p> +<p> +But Polly was happily unaware of Jim’s wondering +approval, for she was too completely absorbed +in the sights about her. She could not have +told anyone what Jim looked like in his city +clothes. In fact, after the first hasty glance at +Ken and him, and the realization that they had +doffed their mountain outfits, she gave no second +thought to their clothes. +</p> +<p> +At Coney Island, that night, the girls enjoyed +one continual lark. Even Mrs. Stewart was urged +to go with the elder Latimers and the Evans upon +the chutes, the merry-go-rounds, the Twister, the +Winsome Waves, and what-not. Such a reckless +spirit of fun seemed to possess everyone in the +place, that it was contagious. +</p> +<p> +When the evening was almost over, and Polly +sighed with very surfeit of so much fun, the boys +managed to “lose” the elders and took the two +girls to the beach. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how wonderful! I never thought of the +ocean. There was so much to see and to do that I +forgot Coney Island was right on the sea,” exclaimed +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +But Polly said not a word. She was suddenly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span> +confronted with the restless mighty ocean that she +had always longed to see. The sense of frivolity +that had filled her for the last few hours vanished, +and she gave herself up to the power of that calm, +never-ceasing roll of water. A few minutes before +and she had been weary from so much laughter +and sport, but now a wonderful peace and rest +pervaded her being. +</p> +<p> +The boys understood this unusual effect of the +ocean upon one who had never seen anything like +it, and finally Polly heaved a sigh. +</p> +<p> +“Well, this is better than all else. It’s worth +coming so far east to see. It’s the only decent +thing of which New York can boast.” +</p> +<p> +Her companions laughed; after digging in the +soft sand for a short time, and exchanging youthful +view-points about everything in the universe, +they all sauntered back to the place where the two +cars had been parked. +</p> +<p> +A shout greeted them. “There, I <em>knew</em> you +boys had dodged us on purpose. But Miss Stewart +thought you were lost in this crowd.” +</p> +<p> +As everyone felt tired before the cars reached +New York City again, the conversation was intermittent. +But just before Mr. Latimer drove his +car up to the hotel, Mrs. Stewart learned how Dr. +and Mrs. Evans, Mrs. Latimer, and the two boys, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +Jim and Ken, had spent that entire day home-hunting +for the westerners with no success. +</p> +<p> +“It seems very strange that in such a vast city +one is not able to find a decent apartment,” complained +Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“We are told ‘because of the war.’ The war is +blamed for everything these days, but the real excuse +for owners not building now is because of the +high cost of material and labor. They are all +waiting for better times; meantime people must +take what can be had, or go without,” said Mr. +Latimer. +</p> +<p> +“After hunting the way we have for more than +a week, and not having found a suitable place, +Mrs. Stewart, I would suggest your finding a nice +boarding-house for the winter. If you put it off +too long, even those places will be filled,” advised +Mrs. Latimer. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me!” sighed Mrs. Stewart. “That was +suggested this morning, but I said it seemed dreadful, +when I came East just to make a home and +keep house for the three girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it would be much pleasanter for everyone +to have a home, but in cases like this Fall’s shortage +of apartments, one must do what is most expedient,” +returned Mrs. Latimer. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Stewart told the girls, that night, what +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span> +had been said, but they all felt sure something +<em>must</em> turn up in the next day or two. So the next +morning before starting out, they laid out a regular +plan of work. +</p> +<p> +“Mother and Eleanor will start where we left +off, yesterday, and weave a search back and forth +downtown until they reach the hotel. I will take +Polly and, beginning at Washington Square, work +uptown until we finish. If either of us find anything +at all decent, and in an agreeable neighborhood, +pay down a deposit to hold it and be sure +to get a receipt as a binder—Mr. Latimer told me +that much. Then we will all go for the second +inspection and decide. Dr. Evans said we’d better +pay down several deposits rather than lose a place, +as we can quickly sell out any option we have for +more than we paid down.” +</p> +<p> +Having instructed her friends, Anne added one +last bit of advice: “We will go as high as $3,000 +a year for seven rooms, or $1,500 for four to five +rooms—no more, as that is all shelter is worth. If +we can’t find a place at that price, we’ll stay in a +hotel!” +</p> +<p> +So the second day of house-hunting went forward +by two divisions instead of one, and all that +day Mrs. Stewart and Eleanor experienced the +same snubs, weariness, and failures, as thousands of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span> +other home-hunters in New York had. +And at evening they returned wearily to the hotel +to hear what Anne had accomplished. +</p> +<p> +“Polly and she have not yet arrived,” announced +Eleanor, as Mrs. Stewart and she entered their +suite. +</p> +<p> +“I hope she has had better luck than we can brag +about,” added Mrs. Stewart, dropping into an +easy chair. +</p> +<p> +A long time after the “first division” had returned, +baffled, to the hotel, Anne and Polly burst +into the room with happy faces. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, we just found the most wonderful place! +Polly and I actually <em>discovered</em> it. We were giving +up all hope of ever finding a decent apartment +at any reasonable figure, and had started for the +subway when we saw this one. The flower-boxes +caught Polly’s eye, so we are really indebted to her +for having secured our home.” +</p> +<p> +Anne’s enthusiasm was contagious, and instantly +Mrs. Stewart and Eleanor wanted to know where +it was located. +</p> +<p> +Anne and Polly exchanged smiling glances, as +if the secret was too precious to impart to others. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose you two did up the entire upper sections, +to-day, eh?” asked Anne, countering their +eager queries. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +</p> +<p> +“Did we? I should say we did! I got a taxi +for the day and we flew from one pile of stone and +marble to the next, and so many rides up and down +in gorgeous elevators all day has kept my head +still spinning. But we had the same results as +yesterday. When you inspect one of these modern +honey-combs you see them all. The only difference +being that a few owners manage to retain the +elevator and telephone operators, while the majority +of superintendents apologise by saying, ‘My +help went on a strike, to-day.’ +</p> +<p> +“It really looks, Anne, as if these poor New +Yorkers will have to move out to the country if +they want to live this year,” remarked Mrs. Stewart, +earnestly. +</p> +<p> +Her companions laughed and Anne said: +“Mother, you are too precocious. But now listen +to our ‘find’! +</p> +<p> +“As I planned, you two went uptown while +Polly and I went downtown from here. We covered +all the lower sections by criss-crossing back +and forth, but we came away from the Gramercy +Park section, late this afternoon, with an utter +sense of failure. In fact, I was silently planning +to inquire about good boarding-houses, when we +hailed a Lexington avenue car, going north. +</p> +<p> +“Being woolly westerners, we failed to ascertain +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span> +how far northwards the car went, and having paid +our fares, sat down. I remember turning to Polly +and saying, ‘This is actually the first car in New +York that I have been on that wasn’t crowded to +the platforms.’” +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed at the remembrance, and Anne +smiled. “But it was our salvation, Anne,” ventured +the former. +</p> +<p> +Anne nodded and continued her story. “Then +we soon learned why there were vacant seats on +that car. A pleasant-faced, grey-haired man of +about fifty, must have overheard my comment because +he spoke to us after we were seated. +</p> +<p> +“‘Perhaps you did not know that this car goes +no farther north than the next block? It is +switched back downtown, from that point. Did +not the conductor mention it to you?’ +</p> +<p> +“I was furious, and I replied: ‘No! he never +said a word when I paid the fares.’ +</p> +<p> +“By this time the car stopped and the conductor +called out: ‘All out—dis car goes no furder. We +switch back next corner!’ +</p> +<p> +“So Polly and I had to get off with the others. +When we stepped down from the car, the nice man +lifted his hat to us and said: ‘I judge you are +strangers in the city. Can I direct you anywhere?’ +</p> +<p> +“I thanked him and told him we were only going as far +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span> +as Forty-second street to the hotel. Then +I added, sarcastically: ‘But there may be no cars +which run as far north as that street!’ +</p> +<p> +“He laughed and said: ‘You had better walk +over to Fourth avenue and get the car there. It +takes you through the tunnel much quicker than +the Lexington avenue car runs to Forty-second +street. But be careful and do not board a car that +stops at the car-house on Thirty-second street.’ +</p> +<p> +“We all laughed at that, as it would have been +just like me to do so; then we thanked him and +started along Thirty-first street to reach the car. +And there we found our Haven of Hope!” +</p> +<p> +“Where? Not on Thirty-first street, I trust!” +exclaimed Mrs. Stewart. “Isn’t that section of the +city dreadful?” +</p> +<p> +“Not the block where we found a home,” explained +Anne. “It has several remodeled houses +and several other flat houses on it.” +</p> +<p> +“But just wait until you see our house—it’s +fine!” said Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Polly caught hold of my arm and exclaimed: +‘Oh, Anne! see the lovely flower-boxes in that +cute little house!’ +</p> +<p> +“I saw three narrow windows on the second +floor with green flower-boxes on the outside sills, +but then my eyes dropped lower and I spied a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span> +swinging sign at a side-door. It merely said: ‘To +Let’ inquire, etc. Polly saw it at the same moment, +so we stood and gazed at each other. +</p> +<p> +“‘Let’s try and peep in at this window,’ suggested +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“I agreed, and we did our best to see what was +within; but the long iron-lattice that covered the +four slits in the wide front doors, were covered +from the inside. So we went to hunt up the agent. +</p> +<p> +“His office was only a few blocks down Fourth +avenue, so Polly and I hurried there before it +should be closed for the day. A boy was told to +accompany us and we were soon inspecting the +premises. Our escort offered all the information +he had heard in the real estate office. +</p> +<p> +“‘This hain’t been on our books more’n a day. +I just hung out the sign this morning. The last +man what lived here was an artist and he fixed up +everything like you see it now. But he wanted the +owner to take out the stable doors and put in a +studio-winder, and when the owner wouldn’t spend +a cent, the artist up and moved. My boss said the +next tenant would insist on having the doors taken +out, so you might as well kick about them being +here, and see if you’se kin get the winder in.’” +</p> +<p> +Anne’s mimicry of the office-boy was perfect and +her hearers laughed, but Mrs. Stewart had caught +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +the significant words: “Stable doors,” and now +she looked deeply concerned. Anne hastened to +end her narrative when she saw her mother’s +expression. +</p> +<p> +“So Polly and I went back to the agent’s, heard +the price of the place, and paid down half a +month’s rent to hold it until you all can go with us +to-morrow morning to approve of our selection.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Anne! how much was it a month?” exclaimed +Eleanor, eagerly, while Mrs. Stewart +looked dubious over such recklessness. +</p> +<p> +“One-fifty a month, and we can have a straight +lease—no humbugging about clauses.” +</p> +<p> +“And how many rooms, did you say, dear?” +gasped Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“I didn’t say, mother, and I told Poll not to say +more until after you see it in the morning.” +</p> +<p> +“But I like it, and it really does seem as if +Providence sent us through that street,” added +Polly, sighing with content. +</p> +<p> +“Eleanor, did you hear Anne say it had stable-doors?” +now ventured Mrs. Stewart, fearfully. +</p> +<p> +“No! did you, Anne? Why would it have +stable-doors?” +</p> +<p> +“Because in the days of horses and carriages, it +was some rich man’s private stable,” laughed +Anne, enjoying the horror on her mother’s face. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span> +</p> +<p> +“A stable! Ha, ha, ha—for a Maynard of +Chicago! Oh—ha, ha, ha!” laughed Eleanor, +rocking back and forth. +</p> +<p> +Even Mrs. Stewart had to laugh at the picture +Eleanor’s exclamation suggested—Mrs. Maynard +and Barbara calling upon a member of their family +who was living in an East Side stable! +</p> +<p> +Any doubt of this being just the place they +wanted vanished in the morning when Anne and +Polly proudly escorted Mrs. Stewart and Eleanor +about their future domicile. True, it had all the +ear-marks of a stable from the <em>outside</em>, but once +you were within, there was only an artistic home +to be seen. The ground-floor which had once held +four stalls and a harness-room, with space for +two carriages, was now partitioned off in a manner +that made the most of the space. A large +living-room across the front acted as entrance-hall +and passageway to the rear rooms and second +floor. In the corner of the living-room, where +the small brick chimney had served as smoke-vent +for the stove of former days, there now was a +wide tiled fire-place which would hold great logs. +</p> +<p> +Double glass-paneled doors led from the front +room to the dining-room with its two high-set +square windows opening to the sunlight in the +rear. Also a single door went to the kitchen, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span> +which also had two high windows like those in +the adjoining room. From the kitchen, a back +door opened upon a tiny grass-platted garden of +about twenty feet square. A fine locust tree grew +in one corner of the plot and gave shade in the +afternoon. +</p> +<p> +Anne explained certain peculiar features regarding +the windows of the back-rooms. “Don’t +you see why they are so high? It is because they +were once the ventilators to the stalls. Each horse +had his own window for air. But I think they now +make the rooms look quaint, don’t you?” +</p> +<p> +The others agreed with her, and Eleanor said: +“If we had a shelf running along under the windows, +it would look better.” +</p> +<p> +“And we can use it for china,” added Polly. +</p> +<p> +Anne now started to go upstairs, followed by +the other three; they all examined the bedrooms +and were delighted with them. There were +two large front and two smaller rear rooms, with +a fine tiled bathroom between the back rooms. Not +one of the rooms was as small as the largest +chambers seen in the modern apartments. +</p> +<p> +“And all for a hundred and fifty a month!” exclaimed +Eleanor, joyously. +</p> +<p> +“I reckon we’d better take it at once, children,” +said Mrs. Stewart, approvingly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +</p> +<p> +“But remember,” said Anne, on the way to the +agent’s office, “we have to make all inside repairs, +or redecorate as we want. There is no steam heat +or hot water supplied, either, like the swell apartment +houses, uptown, offer us.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d rather have it so, Anne dear,” replied Mrs. +Stewart. “I’ve always been used to a coal range +and those fandangled gas ideas worried me, but I +didn’t say anything to you-all. I noticed what a +fine little kitchen stove this one has, so you’ll +always have hot water—never fear. As for heat! +Well, a great open fire-place in the front room +will help heat upstairs, and there is a register in +the bathroom that comes from the kitchen stove-pipe.” +</p> +<p> +“We can use electric or gas radiators, Anne,” +added Eleanor, eagerly, “in very cold weather.” +</p> +<p> +“I never knew what heated bedrooms were like, +in Pebbly Pit, Anne,” Polly said, anxious to have +a word. +</p> +<p> +“Besides we may have a very mild winter,” remarked +Anne. +</p> +<p> +So the lease was signed and the first month’s +rent paid. “We’ll give you any assistance you +may need in getting the place in order, Mrs. Stewart,” +said the agent, as he handed the papers to +his new tenant. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +</p> +<p> +“That will be very nice, and we will take advantage +of your offer, at once. I want the kitchen +range and stove pipe put in perfect working order, +and please see that the radiator in the bathroom +is not obstructed in any way,” said the lady. +</p> +<p> +Anne and the agent exchanged looks and +laughed. “I can see where Mrs. Stewart expects +to enjoy herself this winter. Well, I told my wife +the other day, we were more comfortable when +we had an old-fashioned flat with a kitchen range, +than we now are with all the latest modern improvements,” +returned the agent. +</p> +<p> +“Anne, Polly and I want our rooms repapered +and painted,” whispered Eleanor, tugging at +Anne’s sleeve. +</p> +<p> +“I was about to suggest that you have all the +woodwork given one coat of nice fresh paint, but +the paper now on the walls is very expensive and +artistic, so I wouldn’t be in too great a hurry to +have it done over. The last tenant imported his +own paper at a great expense for that place,” +explained the agent. +</p> +<p> +“I think you are very kind and sensible to advise +us in this way. So we’ll have the men do the +paint but not touch the paper until we have had +time to look it over again,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +“When can we move in?” questioned Polly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +</p> +<p> +“Any time you like; but I would advise having +the painters out first. I will send two men to begin +work in there to-morrow.” +</p> +<p> +Then the four delighted tenants left the office, +and on the walk back to the corner where they +wished to board the car they eagerly planned how +they would furnish their home. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span><a name='chIII' id='chIII'></a>CHAPTER III—FURNISHING THE STABLE</h2> +<p> +“Anne, if we hurry and get the furniture, we +can settle our home before school starts,” suggested +Eleanor, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“If you-all had only let me ship my stuff from +Denver you wouldn’t have to buy a stick!” declared +Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +They were standing on the corner waiting for +an uptown car but not one was in sight. Anne +showed signs of impatience but exclaimed at her +mother’s remark: +</p> +<p> +“Mother, you know very well what the crating +and freight would have cost, and you sold your +stuff for more than it was worth. I think you are +most fortunate to have that little roll of money +on hand, when you consider the wear and tear your +furniture has had in the last thirty years.” +</p> +<p> +“Anyway, Mrs. Stewart, I don’t want Victorian +period in our house. Polly and I want to furnish +and decorate our own rooms as we like. This is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span> +to be our first experiment in real artistic work,” +said Eleanor, comfortingly. +</p> +<p> +Polly nodded her head at these words; but +standing with her back to the curb, her face was +opposite a large show-window in the corner building. +Now, as if by some magnet, her eyes were +attracted to what that window contained. +</p> +<p> +“Why, just see there! Right near our street is +a furniture shop!” With this exclamation, Polly +ran over to inspect the objects displayed in the +window. A carved four-poster, and other rare +antiques, drew the attention of the little group. +</p> +<p> +Polly glanced around to see what furniture shop +it was that was so near their new home. +</p> +<p> +“Why! It’s an auction place. Surely, it cannot +be that such wonderful things are sold in a +junk room,” exclaimed Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +That made the other three look also, and Eleanor +added: “It doesn’t follow that just because +this is an auction house, that it must be a junk +room.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I never saw anything but awful junk in +the second-hand place in Oak Creek,” explained +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Even the Denver dealers sell only junk, Nolla. +But it may be different in New York. Everything +seems to be different,” said Anne. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +</p> +<p> +“Of course it is! Why wouldn’t it be when you +stop to think of it. In the first place, no one in +Oak Creek ever had anything but junk to sell. +And in Denver, where everyone hangs on to every +stick they have, simply because it is so difficult to +get anything worth while, the poor second-hand +dealer starves for want of trade. But here, as +well as in Chicago, folks send stuff to places like +this for sale, when they can’t find a place to move +into. I just bet there will be thousands of families +that will have to sell out this year just because +there are not enough homes for all of them.” +Eleanor’s logic was sound, and Polly ventured a +suggestion. +</p> +<p> +“I’d love to go in there and see what they do +with such pieces. There are lots of well-dressed +people going in—come on.” +</p> +<p> +Nothing loath to see the interior of a New York +second-hand shop, the westerners went to the +front door. There a colored porter stood and +bowed politely. +</p> +<p> +“Sale goin’ on in third room, right, ladies; have +a catalogue?” +</p> +<p> +As the uniformed attendant offered Anne a +pamphlet of about twenty pages, he waved them +inside out of the doorway. Then he repeated his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span> +directions to the next couple who followed directly +after Mrs. Stewart’s party. +</p> +<p> +To say the four friends were astonished at the +size and quality of the auction-rooms is speaking +mildly. Not a piece of furniture but looked rare +and expensive. It seemed improbable that it all +was for sale. +</p> +<p> +A second attendant now came up and said: +“Sale now going on in south gallery, ladies.” +</p> +<p> +Then Anne took her courage in her hands. “We +have never visited a sale before, so you will confer +a favor by showing us where to go, or what to do. +We are about to furnish a house.” +</p> +<p> +The man sensed a good customer, and gallantly +showed them through several well-stocked rooms +until they reached the last, where a smiling +smooth-tongued individual sat behind a raised +desk and spoke conversationally to the crowd +which sat in rows before him. +</p> +<p> +“Jake, find me four chairs, in a hurry,” whispered +the man who was conducting Anne’s party. +</p> +<p> +Without confusion and in a moment’s time, Jake +carried over four wonderful Jacobean chairs, two +in each hand, their backs to each other, and +handled as recklessly as if the fine carving was +made of unbreakable metal. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39'></a>39</span> +</p> +<p> +“Now, ladies, enjoy yourselves,” the smiling attendant +said; then he stopped for a moment at the +desk to say a word to the auctioneer who continued +his selling as if no new victims had been introduced. +</p> +<p> +One marvelous article after another was +brought forth and placed for exhibition upon the +Persian rug that covered the platform in front of +the audience. And one after another, the objects +of art and beauty were sold to different buyers at +a preposterously low figure. +</p> +<p> +But the wily auctioneer took notice that not a +member of the newly arrived party was bidding +on anything. He decided that this must not be, so +he stood up to address the assembly. +</p> +<p> +“Friends, I know that you are here to buy and +not to waste your time in mere curiosity. If there +is any particular article you need, or have seen on +the premises, speak out and I will oblige you by +introducing it in this sale.” +</p> +<p> +He glanced over the crowd and finally allowed +his gaze to rest upon the four who sat in the front +row. They all felt guilty of using his time and +room when they had no idea of buying any particular +thing. Mrs. Stewart was about to whisper +to Anne that they had better go when Eleanor +spoke up fearlessly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40'></a>40</span> +</p> +<p> +“I saw a four-poster in the show-window before +I came in. Is it for sale?” +</p> +<p> +Her three companions felt the shock that is experienced +when one does an unusual or unexpected +thing. But they each felt thrilled, too, at the courage +of that one. +</p> +<p> +“I regret exceedingly, my dear young lady, that +that particular set of antique mahogany cannot be +sold until day after to-morrow. In fact, only the +contents of <em>this</em> vast room is for sale to-day. We +take them in turn, you see. To-morrow the adjoining +room goes, and the day following that +everything is sold and cleared out of the third +room—where the bed is.” +</p> +<p> +“But we have a four-poster in this sale, Mr. +Winters,” quickly said one of the floor-men. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, indeed! Perhaps the young lady will like +it as well as the other one. Bring it forward, +Joe.” +</p> +<p> +Without the slightest delay, the floor-men then +pulled and pushed a very elaborately carved four-posted +bed out upon the dais. It was similar to +the one in the window but it was smaller, this one +being four feet wide while the one on exhibition +for Friday’s sale was full sized. +</p> +<p> +The auctioneer spoke of all the points about this +particular piece of furniture, and then began to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41'></a>41</span> +offer it for sale. The four visitors in the front +row sat as if hypnotized at his manner. +</p> +<p> +“What, no one here to appreciate this marvelous +work of other days, now to be sold for three +hundred dollars?” +</p> +<p> +Not a sound encouraged him, so he sighed and +said: “Well, is there anyone who will give two +hundred for it?” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor’s heart thumped. She was willing to +give it but she found her tongue cleave to the roof +of her mouth at the very idea of securing the bed +at such a price. +</p> +<p> +“Too bad! Then I shall have to ask if anyone +will pay me one hundred dollars? Is this bed not +worth that to you, young lady—or perhaps you +need a full-sized bed?” The auctioneer looked at +Eleanor but failed to see the dazzling glint that +shot into her eyes when he offered the bed for one +hundred. He really had no hope of starting it at +that figure so he over-did it that time. +</p> +<p> +“All right, friends, I am perfectly willing to +have you set your own price on this magnificent +piece of carving that is no less than a hundred and +fifty years old. Now what is your pleasure? +Fifty, forty, thirty—what? did I hear a bargain-hunter +say twenty-five? Oh, impossible?” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor almost fainted at such a dreadful sacrifice, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42'></a>42</span> +and would have stood up to offer him the +hundred, had not a man in the rear called out +“Fifty.” +</p> +<p> +“Ah, that is better—thank you. Now, fifty, +fifty, fifty—who says seventy-five? I want seventy-five—fifty, +fifty, fifty, fif—fif-tee, tee, t-e-e—what, +no one here willing to pay more than fifty dollars +for this bee-u—utiful bit of antique mahogany? +Fif-fif-fif—Ah!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor swallowed hard, half-stood up, and the +auctioneer caught her eye at last. He smiled, acknowledged +her expression, and now called: +</p> +<p> +“Seventy-five! I now have seventy-five, seven, +seven, sev-sev-seventy—seventy-fi-ifvvve! I have +seventy-five dollars for this wonderful mahogany +bed that is really worth seven hundred dollars in +any store to-day. And I only have seventy-five +dollars bid. Seven-tee——” +</p> +<p> +Again Eleanor half-stood up and this time she +managed to say “One hundred, please!” +</p> +<p> +“Thank you, young lady—you certainly understand +fine furniture. I am now offered one hundred +dollars by one who knows the value of this +bed—one hundred, one hundred—hundred—one, +h-u-ndred dollars offered—who will give a hundred +and ten—only ten more gets it?” +</p> +<p> +Polly was so amazed when Eleanor said “One +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43'></a>43</span> +hundred dollars” that she giggled hysterically; but +not wishing to have her friend brag how “she bid +at this auction and her friends were too shy,” Polly +looked anxiously at the auctioneer. He saw that +look and understood. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t hesitate, young lady. You know ‘he who +hesitates is lost’—in this case, loses a great bargain. +If you wish to bid, never fear competing +with a friend. In this business there are no friends—all +men are strangers. Shall I say one hundred +and ten for you?” +</p> +<p> +Polly nodded eagerly and smiled broadly at +Eleanor. The two girls were so delighted with +themselves at daring to speak out so bravely in a +city like <em>New York</em> that they failed to realize the +auctioneer had knocked down the bed to Polly. +</p> +<p> +“This young lady in front. I <em>must</em> say she appreciates +fine furniture!” declared the suave auctioneer +to everyone in general. +</p> +<p> +“W-h-y, Pol—le-ee! Is that your bed?” gasped +Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“I’m sure I don’t know. Is it, Nolla?” laughed +Polly. +</p> +<p> +Just then a brusque voice said: “Name and +address please—and twenty-five per cent deposit +money.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44'></a>44</span> +The girls looked up in bewilderment. Who was +the man? +</p> +<p> +He seemed to read their thoughts, for he +smiled. “I am the cashier. Everyone has to pay +down a cash deposit on their bids. Everything +you buy has to be removed by Saturday, or we are +not responsible for it after that.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh!” Polly and Eleanor looked at each other. +They were trying to figure out how much money +he wanted. +</p> +<p> +“Here—I’ll pay the deposit. About thirty +dollars, isn’t it?” said Anne, in a business-like +tone. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, thank you. Now name and address, +please?” +</p> +<p> +“What’s the number of our stable, Anne?” +laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +When Anne gave the address the cashier looked +surprised. “Oh, have you rented the Studio down +the street?” +</p> +<p> +The girls bowed wonderingly, and he added: +“The artist who lived there for a number of years, +used to drop in here every week just for the entertainment +of picking up curios. In fact, I saw him +here a few minutes ago. He told me he would +give fifty percent advance to the tenant who leased +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45'></a>45</span> +that place. Here’s a chance for you to make +money if you want to give up the Studio.” +</p> +<p> +“We want a home more than money, mister!” +declared Polly. +</p> +<p> +“You’ve said it, Poll! If we give up this studio +we may have to go back and live in our gold mine, +because New York hasn’t any homes left, this +year,” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +The cashier had not missed the mention of “our +gold mine” and determined to do his utmost to +please these ladies. Hence he whispered: “I’ll +look after everything you buy here, and don’t +worry about moving it away on Saturday. Next +week will do, if you are not ready to get things +out this week.” +</p> +<p> +“Polly, Polly! There goes a high-boy that +matches the bed you got!” cried Eleanor, at this +moment. +</p> +<p> +“They are pieces of the same set. Strange to +say, they came from the very place you rented. +The artist has to sell out because he cannot find an +apartment, and there is no storage room for his +furniture,” explained the cashier. +</p> +<p> +So Polly secured the high-boy for sixty dollars +and felt very proud of her purchases. Eleanor +bought a pair of brass fire-dogs and irons, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46'></a>46</span> +Anne bid on a large etching. When it was knocked +down to her, she turned to her mother and said: +“I really do not want it. What under the sun did +I get it for?” +</p> +<p> +And Mrs. Stewart laughed. “It’s always the +way at these vendues. One gets all kinds of things +one never needs.” +</p> +<p> +“Then let’s get out. Girls, I’m going now,” +whispered Anne, rising to leave. +</p> +<p> +The cashier hurried over when he saw the four +new customers about to go, and said, “The artist +would like very much to meet his successors to the +Studio.” +</p> +<p> +At the same moment, a grey-haired gentleman +bowed and smiled, and the group waited expectantly. +Anne and Polly smiled also. +</p> +<p> +“You are the kind friend who advised us, yesterday, +when we had to leave the car,” Anne said, +pleasantly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but I never dreamed I was directing you +right to my front door,” rejoined the artist. +</p> +<p> +“Well, Mr. Fabian, as long as you’ve met +before, I’ll go about my business,” and the cashier +hurried away, leaving the five people in the adjoining +room. +</p> +<p> +Anne proceeded to introduce her friends and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47'></a>47</span> +then added: “It was providential that we went +through that street. Now we have a home to our +liking.” +</p> +<p> +“I am delighted that my successors will appreciate +the place, but I am still seeking for quarters. +Had I choked my anger and swallowed my pride, +when the owner refused to keep his word about +the stable-doors, I would still be enjoying my cozy +Studio.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian then told the ladies how he had +taken the stable in its raw state and turned it into +the lovely dwelling it now was. He had paid for +all the hardwood floors, for the partitions on the +ground-floor, and for the kitchen plumbing. +</p> +<p> +“Why, it must have cost you a small fortune,” +ventured Anne. “And now it seems too bad that +you can’t enjoy it.” +</p> +<p> +“But I did enjoy it, my dear young lady—for +five years. And I only paid sixty dollars a month, +during that time, too. When the owner raised +me, this year, to ninety I rebelled, because I had +spent so much money on beautifying the rooms. I +thought he would really relent and say I could +have it for about seventy-five a month. I was mistaken.” +</p> +<p> +“We’re paying a hundred and fifty a month and +make all repairs, ourselves,” Anne ventured. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48'></a>48</span> +</p> +<p> +“He took advantage of the unusual conditions. +But you have a better bargain, even so, than if you +had rented a seven-room apartment, uptown, for +two or three thousand a year.” +</p> +<p> +By this time they were standing on the corner +once more, and Mr. Fabian seemed ready to leave +them. Then Polly remembered that the cashier +had said the bed and high-boy she just bought had +come from the Studio. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Fabian, excuse me for speaking of it, +but did you really own the four-poster I got at the +sale just now?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, my dear. It was in the room my little +daughter occupied when she was home. She is +now in Paris taking an art course.” The girls +were deeply interested in this intimate information. +“That box-spring with the mattress on the bed was +made to order of the best material I could buy. +You’ll find the silk-floss in that mattress is so soft +you’ll never care to get up, once you rest upon it.” +</p> +<p> +“But I didn’t know the spring and mattress went +with the bed,” Polly said, amazed. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes. That is the way they generally sell +other folks’ goods. But I wish to say, that Nancy +only used the bed a few weeks, as she had a splendid +opportunity to enter a class in a friend’s school +in Paris, so we started her across without delay. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49'></a>49</span> +My wife went, too, to look after her; that is one +reason I refused to pay the increased rent; I +thought it was too much for one lone man to pay.” +</p> +<p> +“It almost makes me feel as if we ought to take +you in to live with us,” said Mrs. Stewart, sympathetically. +“If there only was one extra bedroom, +now, we could make you a member of our family +just as well as not.” +</p> +<p> +“But we haven’t that extra room!” laughed +Anne, wondering what this stranger would think +of her mother’s free western hospitality. +</p> +<p> +What he thought was soon expressed. “I certainly +appreciate such unusual kindness and I see +it is genuine. So I will dare to do this: I shall +love to drop in, now and then, and see how you +all are doing. Perhaps I can be of some assistance +to you, in various ways.” +</p> +<p> +“I know you can!” declared Eleanor, eagerly. +“Polly and I are taking up art and interior decorating +and we need lots of ideas from grown-ups +who have had experience. You can advise us that +way.” +</p> +<p> +“Begin your regular home visits a week from +Sunday, Mr. Fabian. We will be settled then and +ready to welcome you to our house,” added Anne. +</p> +<p> +Then they parted and Mr. Fabian went downtown, +while the four companions walked northwards to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50'></a>50</span> +hotel. As they walked, Anne said: +“It certainly was queer how that gentleman sent +us past his own home and we saw it. Now, he +turns out to be just the kind of a friend Polly and +Eleanor will need to advise them about art +school.” +</p> +<p> +“Anne, what shall we do with the rest of the +afternoon? We still have two hours before dinner-time,” +said Eleanor, glancing at her wristwatch. +</p> +<p> +“We can go over to the nearest shop and get +Polly an everyday hat. I can’t bear to see this +lovely one hacked out at auction rooms. She +needs complete outfits of underwear, too, but we +may be too late at the shops, for that.” +</p> +<p> +“Anne, I saw in the paper this morning, when +you were looking for apartments, that a fine Fifth +avenue shop is having a sale of early fall models. +Let’s go up and get Polly’s hat there,” advised +Eleanor, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +Anne laughed. “You are willing to get one for +yourself, too, eh?” +</p> +<p> +So both girls were supplied with chic hats before +they returned to the hotel. There they found an +invitation from the Latimers to come, informally, +and dine with them that night. Dr. and Mrs. +Evans would try to come in later. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51'></a>51</span> +</p> +<p> +“It’s now five-thirty. Can we get dressed and +make it, in time?” asked Eleanor, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes; we haven’t far to go, you know. A +taxi will take us there in ten minutes,” replied +Anne. +</p> +<p> +All was hurry and bustle, then, and when the +two girls emerged from their rooms dressed in +their new gowns, Anne felt that they did her credit. +She could not but remark at the great improvement +that clothes, well-fitting and of fine material, +made in Polly’s appearance. Now the girl looked +positively beautiful. +</p> +<p> +A pleasant evening ensued, Jim and Ken insisting +upon the right to escort the ladies home after +everyone had said good-night. +</p> +<p> +“You know, girls, Ken and I are going to Yale +next week?” said Jim, as they started down Broadway. +</p> +<p> +“So your father said, to-night. We will miss +you, Jim,” returned Anne. +</p> +<p> +“But we’ll be home every chance we get—Thanksgiving, +Christmas and other times,” Kenneth +said, hopefully. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla and I will be awfully busy in school, and +in trying to get started in the art classes,” added +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“I hope you have the stable settled before we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52'></a>52</span> +leave the city. We want to give you-all a house-warming,” +said Kenneth. +</p> +<p> +“That will be great! Let’s have it, anyway, +even if everything is not in apple-pie order in the +house,” exclaimed Polly. +</p> +<p> +So before they parted, that night, it was all arranged +that the house-warming should take place +the next Tuesday evening. The boys were leaving +for college on Thursday, and the last few days +before starting in the new school, would be busy +ones for the girls. +</p> +<p> +“All right, we’ll tell the folks the fun is on for +next Tuesday, then,” said Jim, as they shook +hands. +</p> +<p> +“And it must be a regular surprise, you know—we +bring our own refreshments and everything,” +laughed Kenneth. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no! That is the least we can do in return +for all you folks have done for us. We will furnish +your refreshments!” declared Eleanor, positively. +</p> +<p> +“As long as you furnish plenty, all right. But +remember, girls, that Ken and I still have our +Rocky Mountain appetites!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53'></a>53</span><a name='chIV' id='chIV'></a>CHAPTER IV—BARGAINS, BARGAINS EVERYWHERE!</h2> +<p> +With the worry of house-hunting gone, the +young friends felt at liberty to be deliberate while +apportioning their time. Anne took Polly and +Eleanor to the West End School, the morning following +their meeting with Mr. Fabian, and introduced +them to the proprietress as the two young +ladies she had written about. +</p> +<p> +Polly thought the elegant mansion that looked +more like a prince’s residence than a school, would +keep her from concentrating upon her lessons. +While Anne and the principal of the select school +talked business, Polly glanced about the reception +room. +</p> +<p> +The rugs were beautiful, most of them having +the faded soft colors of the antique Persian and +Turkish. But the furniture was too gorgeous in +upholstering for the type of room. Then there +were heavy boxed oil paintings in rich gilt frames, +hanging on the walls; and teakwood pedestals +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54'></a>54</span> +holding statuettes and busts; and onyx stands with +palms. The mantel was loaded with bric-a-brac +of all sorts. Many other minor items showed bad +taste in whoever furnished the room. +</p> +<p> +Polly felt all this, but could not explain just +why she resented such a conglomeration of color +and furnishings. But Eleanor, having had the results +of a decorator’s judgment displayed in her +home, in Chicago, felt inclined to smile at what +she saw about her. It was sure evidence of Polly’s +improvement in artistic interiors since the day she +thought the green window-shades quite the thing, +to this time when the indiscriminate mixing of +colors offended her eyes. +</p> +<p> +“I really am relieved to hear that you will not +be resident here, Miss Stewart, as I need your +room for two boarders. I had planned to enlarge +the dormitory this year, but everything costs so +much that I postponed it. Now this extra room +will come in very nicely for me,” Mrs. Wellington +was saying when Polly and Eleanor had finished +a survey of the room, and rejoined Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Girls, Mrs. Wellington says we may have a +look at the class-rooms. Would you like to go +with me?” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +Without demur they followed the lady of the +house. They passed through the formal parlor +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55'></a>55</span> +where guests of distinction were entertained. Here +the two girls also saw the lack of taste in furnishing. +Gilded furniture with delicate satin upholstery, +fought with wallpaper of heavy Spanish-leather +design. Curtains and portières were of +velour, heavily edged with fringe. Valances of +velour were over the windows, and on the mantel. +Instead of having a delicate French carpet on the +floor, there were thick napped dark-toned Beloochistan +rugs. +</p> +<p> +The long library opened out from the parlor, +and here there was an atmosphere of rest, because +the entire wall spaces were lined with dark cabinets +whose shelves were well filled with volumes +in bindings made to harmonize with the rich paper +that showed above the book-cases. The window-seats +were built in and upholstered in tapestry to +match the paper. The tables and leather armchairs +were not so glaringly out of keeping with +the room as the furniture in the first two rooms +had been. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Wellington waved her hand carelessly at +this room: “When I bought this house, all the +books went with it, just as you see them now. The +window-seats are still covered as they were, but +I hope soon to spend some money in making this +library more cheerful for the girls. I like bright +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56'></a>56</span> +colors, but that dun wall paper and that dull tapestry +on the window cushions gives me the blues. If +the books had not been such a bargain—the executor +of the estate was most anxious to dispose of +them—I never would have taken them. Their +dull green morocco bindings make the room seem +heavy, don’t you think?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no! I was just thinking how lovely the +glint of the gold lettering on each dark book +makes the room seem. If only there was a dark +polished floor to reflect the chair and table legs, +the room would be wonderful! But this large +carpet spoils that effect!” Nolla exclaimed impetuously. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Wellington straightened her spine and +looked in hurt amazement at this inexperienced +miss who babbled like an expert decorator. No +one had ever criticised that carpet rug before! +</p> +<p> +Anne saw the look and comprehended at once, +so she dropped oil on the troubled waters. “Oh, +Nolla! you are so carried away with your hobby +of studying decorating that you needs must practise +it and criticise everywhere. Now, I’m sure, +Mrs. Wellington never would have dreamed of +your ambition had you not showed it so plainly in +your words just now.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor understood Anne’s motive in speaking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57'></a>57</span> +thus, and smiled benignly. Polly was still trying +to grasp the handle to Anne’s remark when the +lady of the house led them forth again. +</p> +<p> +“Here are a number of smaller rooms where +girls may sit and read or study in the evening. +And now we will go up to the class rooms.” +</p> +<p> +If Eleanor and Polly had been able to find flaws +with the lack of taste shown in the furnishings of +the first-floor, they could not detect the slightest +item missing in the equipment and furnishing of +the different school rooms. Every known modern +device and object for the comfort, health and help +of scholars, were in evidence. Anne smiled with +pleasure as she looked around. +</p> +<p> +“It will be a delight to teach in such a room as +this, Mrs. Wellington; and I’m sure the scholars +appreciate all you do for them.” +</p> +<p> +“No, that is the strange part of it, Miss Stewart. +The girls who come here seldom think of all +I do for them in providing these rooms. They +take it as a matter of course that I should spend +so much money in keeping everything as I do, +while my competitors ask higher rates and spend +less;” the lady looked troubled over it. +</p> +<p> +“Now I have a friend down on Seventy-second +street, who has conducted a most exclusive school +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58'></a>58</span> +for years; but she will not spend a cent in these +ideal accommodations yet she gets higher prices +than I do. And her waiting list of well-known +names is endless. I only have a list of about a +dozen applicants and they are not daughters of +millionaires, either.” +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps,” Anne remarked kindly, “the girls +<em>you</em> graduate make something of themselves in +life, whereas those other society girls merely skim +over lessons and never know how to spell their +own names.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, that is true; I secure the very best teachers +and try to instill knowledge wisely. And I +am sure, my girls, upon leaving here, can compete +with anyone.” +</p> +<p> +“I should say that was a great comfort. To +look back some day and be able to say: ‘I taught +that girl how to combat ignorance.’ And the girls +who sincerely admit what you have done, will rise +up and call you blessed—for giving them these expensive +modern helps to acquire wisdom.” +</p> +<p> +Madam seemed pleased with this point of view, +and said: “You will stop and have luncheon with +me, won’t you, dears?” +</p> +<p> +“We really cannot, Mrs. Wellington. You see +we have to furnish the home that we just leased, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59'></a>59</span> +yesterday. We are most anxious to have everything +in order before starting with our school work +on the first,” Anne explained, politely. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, of course, that is wise. Then I will look +for you Monday morning—the first of October. +If there is anything you wish to know, you can call +me up any time during the mornings. And if you +are in this neighborhood before the first, do come +in and have tea.” +</p> +<p> +After the girls had gone, Madam smiled and +thought to herself: “I certainly made no mistake +in engaging <em>that</em> young teacher. She seems to be +the best one I have ever interviewed. And the +girls will take to her, I’m sure.” +</p> +<p> +Anne led the way to a Broadway trolley, and +soon they were at the hotel. Mrs. Stewart was +impatiently awaiting them, so they had an early +luncheon and then hurried downtown to the “Art +Galleries” on Fourth avenue. +</p> +<p> +The sale had just opened, and they were able to +secure front chairs. A list had been made of +pieces of furniture they really needed to start +house-keeping with, and now they hoped to be +able to find just the things they had pictured for +the Studio. +</p> +<p> +A solid mahogany gate-leg table was knocked +down to Anne for fourteen dollars and a half. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60'></a>60</span> +Then a wing-chair with quaint lines, upholstered +in orchid blue velour, was sold to Eleanor for +nineteen dollars. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, that was a lovely chair, Nolla. I +wish I had one like it,” sighed Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t my table a dear!” whispered Anne, +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“But it has as many legs as a centipede,” replied +Polly. +</p> +<p> +The others laughed gaily at her criticism but at +that moment, a comfortable Turkish arm-chair +was placed upon the dais. It was upholstered in +a rich tapestry, and looked oh! so luxurious. +</p> +<p> +Polly watched the bidders anxiously. She had +a sudden desire for that chair, but she couldn’t +manage to get in at the bidding, at all. But when +she saw a woman opposite, hold up a hand above +her head, and so learned that that was one way +to catch the auctioneer’s attention, she, too, followed +suit. +</p> +<p> +She instantly held up her hand, and just saved +the chair from being sold to a man at the back. +So it was knocked down to her at seventeen-fifty. +</p> +<p> +“There! That is Mrs. Stewart’s chair. I saw +the look in her eye when it was placed upon the +dais; and I know just how she will enjoy it when +she has done preparing our dinners. That chair, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61'></a>61</span> +out before the open fire-place giving rest to a tired +house-keeper, will make one feel like new!” Polly +said. +</p> +<p> +“But, Polly, child! you must not spend your +money buying <em>me</em> such things!” exclaimed Mrs. +Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“I will if I want to! This is the first stick +you’ve got for your room. And without you, +I’d like to know what kind of a home we’d +have. So don’t you say another word if I want +to buy other things for you.” +</p> +<p> +Anne objected. “Maybe this one chair is all +right, Polly, but no more, please.” +</p> +<p> +“Anne, just see all the money we’re saving on +buying our furniture, this way. Why can’t I use +the surplus as I want to? I say I <em>will</em>—if I see +anything I want very much to give you or your +mother.” +</p> +<p> +Anne knew when Polly was determined to have +her way, and believed the best plan now would be +to buy what was needed for herself and her +mother, so as to forestall Polly or Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +So that afternoon Anne got two single brass +beds with brand new springs and mattresses. The +auctioneer explained that the bedding was sent in +by the Manhattan Factory, because of an order +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62'></a>62</span> +that had been cancelled before delivery of goods. +So Anne secured the bedding at half price. +</p> +<p> +Neither of the girls suspected Anne of any +secret plot when she bought other articles at that +sale for the two bedrooms she needed to furnish; +but when Eleanor eagerly bid on a Priscilla work-table +of mahogany and got it for Mrs. Stewart, +Anne felt annoyed. +</p> +<p> +“My goodness, Anne, it was only five-fifty. +Who ever saw a work-table as cheap as that, +before? I know your mother will love to darn +stockings for us all, now—with a nice place in +which to keep her wools,” argued Eleanor, laughingly. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe mother would rather not darn stockings +but let you keep the table, yourself,” suggested +Anne. +</p> +<p> +Before they left the Art Gallery that day, they +found they had really bought enough articles to +start in with if they liked. They could add rugs, +bric-a-brac, and different luxurious chairs, at any +time. +</p> +<p> +“But we need dishes and utensils, girls,” said +Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll get them in a department store, and have +them delivered at once,” replied Anne. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63'></a>63</span> +</p> +<p> +“Let’s run over and see if the painters have +done anything,” suggested Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Might as well, Anne—we are right here, you +see,” added Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +So they turned the corner and walked down the +street to reach the Studio in time to see the painters +finish the work on the ground floor. +</p> +<p> +“How nice and fresh it looks. But the wallpaper +looks dusty,” said Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“It is dusty, madam. I was just sayin’ to my +friend here you ought to have someone clean it all +off with bread crumbs. It is a swell paper if it is +clean,” remarked the painter. +</p> +<p> +“Bread-crumbs?” ejaculated Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Yes’m. Best thing known to clean fine paper. +I’ll get a man to do it if you say so. He knows +his job.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish you would. And ask him to supply the +bread, too, as we are stopping at a hotel where it +is hard to get such things.” +</p> +<p> +“An’ I was goin’ to mention—the porcelain tubs +and basins oughta be cleaned fer you’se. When +we finish painting I will scour and polish ’em, if +you say so.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, please do! And the floors ought to be +polished, too.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll take care of all that, if you just tell us +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64'></a>64</span> +to go ahead and clean up as we see fit,” said the +painter. +</p> +<p> +“All right; but don’t make us wait too long +before we can move in. We are going to have a +house-warming, here, next week,” explained Eleanor, +anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“I’ve got an extra man comin’ on to-morrow, +and we’ll be out of here by Saturday. Especially +if we work Sat’aday afternoon—but that means +double pay, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind that; finish the job as soon as possible, +for we will save that much extra money in +hotel bills,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +“All right! We’ll turn it over for you Sat’aday +night!” +</p> +<p> +Everything seemed to be going so well, not only +with their Studio-home, but with furnishings and +decorators, that the girls felt elated. +</p> +<p> +The next day they again met Mr. Fabian at the +Art Galleries, and he proved a very welcome member +to their party, as he knew all about rugs, porcelains, +and antiques. Having shown them and +explained all about the few rare pieces still for sale +in the auction rooms, he said: +</p> +<p> +“Some day you must go with me to some of the +other places. There are dozens of these shops in +New York, and each one seems to incline to some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65'></a>65</span> +particular line of furnishing. Then, too, one can +see more wonderful antiques in these shabby little +shops along the avenue, than one would believe +possible. +</p> +<p> +“I often pick up rare things in these places. +They are run, mostly, by Hebrews who merely +know when an object is antique, or in demand. But +they seldom can tell you the period or name of +many of their most valuable items. It was in this +way that a friend of mine once discovered a +treasure. +</p> +<p> +“His wife wanted a necklace for Christmas—something +odd and different than any that her +friends had. So he came to me and said: ‘Fabian, +I can’t afford Tiffany prices, but I wish I could +find something unusual. I want to please my wife, +because she has been such a good sport during +the time I was hanging over the edge of bankruptcy. +Now what would you suggest?’ +</p> +<p> +“I offered to go with him. So we sauntered out +of the Studio and walked over here, to Fourth +avenue. We stopped in every little collector’s shop +along the street, but could not find just what appealed +to him. Then we entered that shop across +the street—the one near the corner. +</p> +<p> +“I knew the old Hebrew well, having often +looked over his trays filled with every old thing +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66'></a>66</span> +conceivable. So I said upon entering: ‘Got any +odd kind of necklace or chain, Moses? Something +to go around a lady’s neck, you know?’ I +had to demonstrate my words as I spoke. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ya, ya! Shure, I got a chain. I show him +you?’ +</p> +<p> +“It was a long antique-silver chain, the great +flat links being beautifully filigreed. But it was not +what my friend wanted, so I bought it for Nancy. +Then the shop-keeper looked wistful. +</p> +<p> +“‘Ain’t I got it what you like? Tell me what +for you want him?’ +</p> +<p> +“My friend replied: ‘For my wife. She goes +to balls and like pearls, or other stones, in a necklace.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ah, ha! I got yust what you like. A pearl +necklace vot come in las’ veek wid a lot of odder +fine tings.’ Then the old man rooted around under +the counter until he found the tray he wanted. It +was coated with dust from the floor, but he blew +this off and carelessly placed the heaped-up tray +before us. +</p> +<p> +“Such a tangle of all kinds of jewelry I never +<em>did</em> see! Finally I got the string of pearls free +from the snarls of ordinary glass beads and other +trash, and handed it over to my friend. He curled +a lip in scorn at the soiled trinket. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67'></a>67</span> +</p> +<p> +“‘Avery, drive a bargain with him for this. I +honestly think those pearls are quite good. Let +me rub one up on my sleeve, while you draw the +fellow’s attention from what I am doing,’ I +whispered. +</p> +<p> +“While Avery tried to bargain, I cleaned up one +of the gems and felt sure they were unusually good +even for artificial pearls. +</p> +<p> +“We actually bought the string for twelve dollars, +but my friend feared lest he had been taken +in. So I smiled and said: ‘Leave them with me +and I’ll see that they are polished up like new by +to-morrow night. I’ll take them to an old jeweler +down the street and have them washed and +the gold links cleaned. Your wife won’t know but +that they came from Tiffany’s. +</p> +<p> +“Avery laughed and left them with me. So I +hurried down to Union Square and showed them +to the old jeweler I knew, there. +</p> +<p> +“He puckered his brow at first, then ran for his +magnifying glasses. After an unusually keen inspection +he called to his associate. Both of them +then examined the string most carefully, and the +old man finally looked up. +</p> +<p> +“‘If I didn’t know you to be an honest man I +should say: “Where did you steal them?”—but I +will ask: “How came you by these?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68'></a>68</span> +</p> +<p> +“I was astonished, as you may know, but I tried +to appear wise, so I laughingly replied: ‘They are +not mine, my dear, sir. I only wish they were! I +just got them from a friend to have someone, who +is responsible, clean them nicely. I must hand +them back as soon as you have finished.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Mr. Fabian, I can’t undertake such a job. I +have no bonded man to do such work and I dare +not send them out. They may be substituted, you +know.’ +</p> +<p> +“Then I couldn’t help saying: ‘My good man! +You don’t value them so highly as that, do you? +Why, I carried them downtown in my pocket!’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Ha, ha!’ he laughed, ‘I never saw a better +matched string of perfect pearls in my life and I +am nigh onto sixty. If I had to handle that necklace, +I should instantly insure it with a broker for +a hundred thousand dollars.’ +</p> +<p> +“Fancy, my friends, how I felt! My knees gave +way and I had to sit down. I loosened my collar +which seemed suddenly to grow too tight, but I +couldn’t say a word.” +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor stood listening with eyes +bulging and mouths half-open. Anne and her +mother were also deeply interested. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian smiled to himself before he continued +his tale, “Well, I took the pearls and hailed +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69'></a>69</span> +a taxi. I was taken to Tiffany’s, and asked for the +manager, at once. Of course they wanted to +know why I wished to see him, and I said, courageously: +‘To turn over a valuable pearl necklace +and insure it for a hundred thousand.’ +</p> +<p> +“That brought the manager running. We went +to a small private room and I placed the string of +pearls before him. He took it carefully, examined +it casually, then more minutely. He seemed +perturbed and got up. ‘Don’t leave this room and +do not allow anyone to come in and see it. I’ll be +back in a moment with our expert.’ +</p> +<p> +“I felt sure, then, that Avery had actually found +a <em>real</em> bargain. But I never dreamed of getting +anything out of it for myself. The manager returned +with, not only the gem expert, but also with +the president of the company. He closed the door +and locked it. +</p> +<p> +“The gem expert used all sorts of tests on the +pearls and then said in a trembling tone: ‘M’sieur, +I see like I nevair saw in my life! A string of +perfect match pearls, each one well worth a fortune. +But I see more, M’sieu! I will bring my +acid to clean the engraved clasp set with diamonds. +Maybe we find interesting fack.’ +</p> +<p> +“Everyone felt nervous during the intermission +granted us, but we said not a word to each other. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70'></a>70</span> +Then the Frenchman returned. He was so careful, +almost reverent, I should say, in touching and +cleaning the clasp, that I laughed to myself at the +memory of Old Izaacs shelving the pearls with a +heap of junk, on a tray that was shoved on the +floor under a counter. +</p> +<p> +“After many minutes of impatient waiting on +our side, and as long in a most delicate cleansing +process of the pearls on the part of the expert, he +said: ‘Ah! Now vee zee.’ +</p> +<p> +“He adjusted his eyeglass and studied the lettering +on the clasp. Then he jerked forward and +peered breathlessly at it again. Suddenly he +dropped the necklace upon the pad and leaned back +in the chair. ‘Mon Dieu!’ was all he could gasp. +</p> +<p> +“The president then caught up the pearls and +adjusted the glass and studied the clasp. He also +gasped and turned pale. The manager took the +string from his superior and eagerly read the lettering +aloud, ‘To my queen from Bonaparte.’ And +then followed the date and year in tiny figures.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian smiled as he saw the impression his +story had made, and waited to be asked questions +concerning the pearls. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, do finish the story!” cried Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Were they really that famous pearl necklace?” +asked Anne. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71'></a>71</span> +</p> +<p> +But Polly was too amazed to ask anything. +</p> +<p> +“It was the famous necklace of purest pearls +that had been lost for the past sixty years. It was +worth about two hundred and fifty thousand +dollars, at the time it disappeared. To-day it +would be worth much more. But it belonged to +the French Museum, and a reward of two hundred +thousand francs had been offered for trace +of it, or its return. So long ago had that reward +been recorded in every civilized land, that the present +generation had never heard of it—except in +history. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I took a receipt from Tiffany for its +safe-keeping, and they assured me that they would +communicate with the French Ambassador, without +delay. Meanwhile I was to communicate with +my friend Avery. Naturally I withheld all information +as to the manner in which the necklace had +been discovered. +</p> +<p> +“I went to Avery’s office, immediately, and +acted very sorry as I said: ‘Avery, if I were to +tell you that I lost that necklace, what would you +do to me?’ +</p> +<p> +“He only laughed and said: ‘I’d make you buy +my wife one as good, or one she <em>might</em> prefer to +that greasy one!’ +</p> +<p> +“Then I said: ‘Avery, I never had, nor do I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72'></a>72</span> +expect to have as much money as that necklace is +worth! Man alive, it is now in Tiffany’s safe, +insured for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, +against fire or theft!’ +</p> +<p> +“I thought Avery would faint, but when he had +managed to collect his wits, he whispered hoarsely, +‘I don’t understand—were they <em>genuine</em> pearls?’ +</p> +<p> +“So I told him the story and we both rushed +away to hire a taxi and then we drove madly to +Tiffany’s, again. I introduced Avery as the owner +of the pearls, and he was treated to a sight of his +little twelve-dollar bargain. +</p> +<p> +“Well, the upshot of it was, Avery received a +‘present’ of a hundred thousand dollars from the +French Government, and in return he signed a release +for himself, his wife, his heirs, friends, acquaintances, +and, in fact, every American citizen +in the census. He was told that he would be held +responsible, thereafter, for all claims or lawsuits +instituted against France to recover the necklace. +And he accepted the burden, considering he had +such a price paid for the job. +</p> +<p> +“One day Izaacs got a present through the mail, +of a draft for a thousand dollars and to this day +he doesn’t know who the signer ‘William Avery,’ +can be. +</p> +<p> +“My old jeweler on Union Square got another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73'></a>73</span> +thousand, and I—well, I refused everything, and +Avery called me a numb-skull and an easy mark! +So he invested half of all he received in my wife +and Nancy’s name, and that is how they went to +Europe.” Mr. Fabian smiled reminiscently at the +end of the story. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74'></a>74</span><a name='chV' id='chV'></a>CHAPTER V—FIRST DAYS AT SCHOOL</h2> +<p> +Polly and her friends had moved into the +Studio and were recovering from the orgy of the +house-warming given them by the Evans and Latimers +the previous evening, when the two boys came +to say good-by. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, come on, Nolla—bring Polly and see us +to the train,” coaxed Jim, watching the clock on +the mantel. +</p> +<p> +“But, Jim, we honestly haven’t the time! If +you <em>knew</em> all we had to do this week!” sighed +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Why, we could have <em>been</em> there in the time you +have taken to explain how busy you are,” grumbled +Jim. +</p> +<p> +“Then get out! If I have wasted so much precious +time it is because you stand there and make +me. Good-by, old pal, now scat!” Eleanor held +out her hand and laughed. But Jim was not so +easily daunted. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75'></a>75</span> +</p> +<p> +“Where’s Ken all this time? Oh, I say, Ken! +Come on!” +</p> +<p> +“I think Ken and Polly went down the street +while you two were out in the garden hunting for +the grass,” said Mrs. Stewart, without a smile. +</p> +<p> +Jim laughed. And Eleanor caught up her hat +from the divan and ran to the door. “If they go +away like that, then you and I will, too.” +</p> +<p> +Having reached the corner, however, Jim and +Eleanor saw Ken and Polly intently studying something +held in the latter’s palm. +</p> +<p> +“Come on—we will see what it is they caught?” +said Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nolla, see what Ken gave me for a keep-sake. +We found it over at Old Izaac’s,” exclaimed +Polly, holding out the strange trinket for +her friend to admire. +</p> +<p> +“Why, it’s a real scarab. Isn’t it a beauty,” +said Eleanor, then suddenly wishing Jim had +thought of giving her a keep-sake. +</p> +<p> +“That’s why I wanted you to come out with me. +I told Ken you girls’d forget about us the minute +we were out of sight, unless you had something to +remind you of us,” explained Jim. +</p> +<p> +“Come on, then, and let Nolla pick out what +she wants,” added Ken, laughingly. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll take the queen’s pearl necklace!” and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76'></a>76</span> +young hearts made merry of the pearls that had +cost so many lives and so much misery. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor selected a peculiar seal set in a strange +stone. “There, I will use it on the first letter I +write you,” she said. +</p> +<p> +“Now that you are here, you may as well jump +on the car and take us to the train,” begged +Jim. +</p> +<p> +And this time he had his way. But they did +not catch the four o’clock express to New Haven, +as it was four-ten when they reached the gates and +found them closed. +</p> +<p> +“Now we’ll have to sit and talk until five,” +laughed Jim, exultantly. +</p> +<p> +“We’ll do nothing of the sort! I told you we +had no time to waste on you boys, and we only +came thus far to be polite in exchange for the +keep-sakes. But you can have them back if you +think it gives you the right to order me around.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor held out the seal, but Jim looked forlorn. +Then she laughed because he felt bad at +her teasing. +</p> +<p> +“Come now, Jimmy, say good-by like an old +dear, and tell Polly and me to run home.” +</p> +<p> +“I wish you were my sister!” sighed Jim. +</p> +<p> +“Your sister? What good would that do you?” +asked Eleanor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77'></a>77</span> +</p> +<p> +“Because you’d let me kiss you good-by!” retorted +he. +</p> +<p> +They all laughed merrily, and Polly said: +“You’d never want to kiss her if she was a sister. +You wouldn’t even have asked her to come to the +station with you.” +</p> +<p> +“You’re right, Poll! Now I’m going—good-by, +boys!” and Eleanor held forth both hands—one +to each boy. +</p> +<p> +After many repeated good-bys, the girls left and +slowly walked down the avenue. When they +had reached the parkway that runs over the car-tunnel, +and is known by the name of Madison avenue, +Polly said: “Why wouldn’t you wait for the +train, Nolla?” +</p> +<p> +“Because, Polly, I like both those boys and I +don’t want to lose them so soon. If a male thinks +we females will run at beck and call for them, they +quickly weary of such a game. It is the one who +refuses to be wound about a finger, that always +keeps the beaux on a string.” +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed. “You are too worldly-wise for +me. Now I never should have dreamed of such a +thing.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’m right! One reason Bob never has +a beau is just because she shows how anxious she +is for one.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78'></a>78</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no, Nolla! The reason Bob hasn’t any +beaux is on account of her disposition—you know +that!” +</p> +<p> +“That, too, Polly. But mostly, because she +throws herself at the head of any eligible man. I +tell you, a man won’t have it so!” +</p> +<p> +“Never mind, Nolla. You and I are never going +to have beaux, so we should worry! We will +marry our profession!” said Polly. +</p> +<p> +The following Monday, Anne escorted her two +charges to the school on West End avenue. It was +a wonderful Autumn day and the girls pictured +how beautiful the mountains about Pebbly Pit must +look on such a clear day. +</p> +<p> +As the Fifth avenue bus was most convenient +for Polly and her companions, boarding it at Thirtieth +street and leaving it at the corner of Seventy-second +street where West End avenue started +northward, they had but a short walk to reach the +school. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor had been most particular with Polly’s, +and her own appearance, that morning. “For,” +said she, “first impressions are lasting. We must +be sure and make a favorable dent in these girls.” +</p> +<p> +“But we don’t know one of them, Nolla,” argued +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“All the more reason why we should take the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79'></a>79</span> +head of the line!” retorted Eleanor, tossing her +head. +</p> +<p> +Anne laughed, and thought to herself, “They +will surely take the head in everything, for I never +saw two such live girls.” +</p> +<p> +But to Eleanor’s chagrin the examinations +classed Polly with girls of fifteen to sixteen, while +she was placed with girls of fourteen years. This +caused the temperamental girl to feel discouraged +and she began to blame her ill-health for her backwardness. +</p> +<p> +In every other way, Polly and she ranked equal; +and not a girl in the whole exclusive school could +boast of better or more fashionable dresses than +these two western scholars. Eleanor was most +talkative, describing her home in Chicago and the +people the Maynards knew. Then she whispered, +covertly, how rich Polly Brewster was—she owned +a great gold mine all in her own rights. She spoke +thrillingly of Rainbow Cliffs and the tons upon tons +of rare stones to be found there, until every girl +sighed in envy. But Eleanor failed to mention +that the stones would have to be cut and polished +before they would be of any use to anyone. +</p> +<p> +A few stray sentences of these conversations +reached Anne’s ears, and she felt puzzled to know +what was best to do. Eleanor was not bragging +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80'></a>80</span> +because she needed place or power in the group, +but the teacher understood that she was exaggerating +for Polly’s sake. She wanted all the girls to +look up to Polly as a subject would to a queen. +She knew how Barbara had felt toward the simple +ranch people, and these girls were of the same ilk—society’s +pets. And they could make life unhappy +for Polly, or a dream of joy. +</p> +<p> +That afternoon, as school closed, Anne overheard +one of the girls repeating Eleanor’s words, +but they had not lost in the repetition. In fact, +Anne was sure Eleanor did not say quite all that +she was credited with. On the way to the Studio, +therefore, she determined to speak to Eleanor +about the matter. +</p> +<p> +“Eleanor, you seemed to make a bushel of +friends without any trouble,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +“I always do. It’s best to have done with it, +and then you can sift out those you don’t like, +afterward,” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“How about you, Polly?” questioned Anne. +</p> +<p> +“I was too busy with my lessons to bother about +anyone, but I thought the girls acted rather queer +this afternoon. I caught some of them whispering +about me, and some were casting envious glances +my way. I can’t understand why they should?” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor gasped. Here was a danger she had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81'></a>81</span> +not thought of. She wouldn’t risk Polly’s peace +or popularity for anything in the world, but she +may have unconsciously done just that very thing! +</p> +<p> +“I heard some of the girls talking of your gold +mine and Rainbow Cliffs, and I wondered if you +had made such close friends, so soon,” ventured +Anne, guilefully. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, <em>I</em> did that! Nothing like putting on a lot +of ‘dog’ if you want to make a splash in the puddle,” +hastily explained Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +Anne felt like laughing but she hid her face, +and Polly turned pale with annoyance. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Nolla! How could you? You know +I’d rather be considered a nobody than stand in a +false light. Now what can I do to clear this up?” +</p> +<p> +“It isn’t false light at all, Polly. You can’t do +anything now without making me out a fibber,” +retorted Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“You are acting just like your sister Bob might +have done! That’s the worst thing I can say to +<em>you</em>,” scorned Polly. +</p> +<p> +“And I did it all for you, too!” whimpered +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Didn’t I tell you, back at Pebbly Pit, that I +wanted to cut my own cloth? For goodness’ sake, +don’t interfere in my private life again!” +</p> +<p> +“But you’ve got to let folks know you’re someone, or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82'></a>82</span> +you will never climb to the top of the +heap,” argued Eleanor, stubbornly. +</p> +<p> +“I have my own method of reaching the top, +Eleanor, and it is not <em>that</em> way. I was Polly Brewster +before you ever knew me and I am that same +Polly Brewster even after having a gold mine and +a mile of lava-jewels thrust down my throat. Don’t +say another word!” +</p> +<p> +Polly turned her back and went to the end seat +on the bus, leaving Anne to console poor Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Look’a here, Anne—did I do anything so +awful?” +</p> +<p> +“You made a serious mistake, Nolla, when you +talked to those strange girls about Polly. You +tried to make her appear as if she approved of +your method of bragging about the mine and +money.” +</p> +<p> +“W-h-y, I never dreamed of such a thing! I +only wanted these New York girls to get it straight +from the start that our Polly of Pebbly Pit was +‘some punkins’;” Eleanor tried to laugh. +</p> +<p> +“And you succeeded in not only humiliating +Polly, but me also, because I am responsible for +both of you, to a certain degree.” +</p> +<p> +“Humiliate Polly and you!” gasped Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Exactly what you did. I have been placed in +command of this little family, and the first day at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83'></a>83</span> +school, you deliberately thrust yourself forward—take +my place, so to speak—and tell all the strangers +there who Polly is, and who you and I are. In +fact, you give out information that should come +only from me.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m sorry, but for goodness’ sake let’s drop it, +now.” +</p> +<p> +“We’d better settle the matter once for all, +Nolla, before we drop it. If Polly and you are to +continue the wonderful friendship begun this Summer +at the ranch, you must never again say, or do +anything, that trespasses on her rights. Remember +that each one of us has an individual right to +impart what we like about our private affairs—be +it family or fortune. But the moment another +speaks for us, then it becomes gossip and scandal +on the part of that impertinent one. +</p> +<p> +“I do not propose having my time and thoughts +disturbed by any inharmony rising between you +two girls, and if another occasion comes up, when +Polly and you disagree as you have to-day, I’ll +wire to your father to come and take you home. +If Polly is to blame, then I’ll send her home. But, +thus far, it is you who trespassed on Polly’s rights. +</p> +<p> +“If you’ll think this over quietly, and without +prejudice, I’m sure you’ll agree that I am just and +right in my stand.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84'></a>84</span> +</p> +<p> +That evening, Eleanor apologised to Anne and +Polly for her thoughtless impulse that day, and +fervently prayed that she never be tempted to open +her lips again. +</p> +<p> +It was not Polly’s nature to sulk or remember +unpleasant episodes, so everything went along +smoothly after that first day at school. +</p> +<p> +Tuesday evening Mr. Fabian called, and was +welcomed to his erstwhile fireside. During that +visit, it developed that he had accepted an offer +which several of his friends had urged upon him. +He was to teach, three times a week, a class in art +designing at Cooper Union Institute. And before +he said good-night to the ladies, it had been suggested +and settled, that Polly and Eleanor were +to join the evening classes on the three nights a +week that their friend taught at the school. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Stewart worried lest the girls would be +wearing themselves out with too much study. But +it was found that the work in the art classes under +Mr. Fabian’s watchful eye, was a pleasure rather +than a study or work. +</p> +<p> +Thus they started to build on a firm foundation, +and by degrees they mastered the rudiments of +geometrical drawing, then went on to ornamental +designing, next taking up the study of architecture +in so far as it applied to interior decorating, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85'></a>85</span> +at the end of the year they were drawing free hand +and perspective sketches. But that was not until +the school term was almost over. +</p> +<p> +By the end of the first week at Mrs. Wellington’s +school, the girls had chosen their friends for +the term. It was most interesting to Anne to note +that a certain social element looked up to Eleanor +as their natural leader, while the quiet persistent +sort silently fell in line with Polly. Both girls +were admired and heartily liked, by teachers as +well as scholars, but there was one disturbing +young lady who resented the usurping of her +former undisputed sway in the school by the two +new-comers. +</p> +<p> +Elizabeth Dalken was the pretty, but vain +daughter of a superficial society woman who +thought of nothing but self-indulgence, leaving the +training of her child to Fate. Hence, Elizabeth +was the usual product: selfish, proud, arrogant and +hypocritical. She was but fifteen, yet she could +slyly cheat at bridge, smoke her mother’s cigarettes, +and flirt with the men who frequented her +home, as cleverly as her mother could. +</p> +<p> +For two previous years she had taken the reins +of leadership at Wellington’s school and she had +returned the third Fall fully expecting to resume +her authority. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86'></a>86</span> +</p> +<p> +To learn that a western ranch-girl without a +record in “Who’s Who,” and a mere <em>Chicago</em> +Miss, governed her former subjects, turned Elizabeth +white with rage. She could say nothing +about it, however, without starting her school +friends’ teasing and laughing at her downfall. And +she could not leave the school, because her mother +had deserted her husband. He was the cashier for +all the luxuries Mrs. Dalken and her daughter indulged +themselves in, and he had selected Wellington’s +school for the girl, and had paid the tuition +fee in advance, so it stood to reason that he would +not consent to a change, now, on account of her +jealousy. +</p> +<p> +So on that first Friday evening, upon leaving +school, Elizabeth promised herself that she would +“get square” with those “two nobodys” in short +order! She would show those other girls at Mrs. +Wellington’s just who <em>she</em> was, and why they +should have kept her as their leader! +</p> +<p> +But the western girls were not shamming their +lovable characters, and as time went on, their companions +appreciated, more and more, the sterling +qualities in their chosen leaders. Thus Elizabeth +found it no easy task to influence the girls against +them. +</p> +<p> +October passed and November began, with the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87'></a>87</span> +girls at Mrs. Wellington’s planning for a Thanksgiving +entertainment to close their school for the +holiday. Here Polly was discounted, as she had +never taken part in amateur theatricals, and knew +nothing about them. Had anyone asked her to differentiate +between the Tuscan, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian +or Composite order of classic periods of +architecture, she could have described either, or all +of them, almost as well as Mr. Fabian himself +could do. But the scholars at Mrs. Wellington’s +never dreamed of Polly’s ambition and knowledge +along such lines of study. +</p> +<p> +So Elizabeth found herself the one to whom +everyone appealed about costumes, parts, and the +general management of affairs. Eleanor resented +the obvious fact that <em>she</em> was completely ignored +when the various important parts were distributed, +but Polly never gave it a thought. +</p> +<p> +“We couldn’t accept a part, anyway, Nolla, +with all the time we have planned to give to exhibitions +and lectures, this month,” Polly reminded +her. +</p> +<p> +“And your Daddy will be visiting New York +that last week, Nolla, and you must devote your +spare time to his entertainment—not be fussing +with a lot of girls over a silly poem,” added Anne. +</p> +<p> +Thus the sharp sting was withdrawn and Eleanor forgot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88'></a>88</span> +all about her injured feelings. But +Elizabeth Dalken believed she was merely pretending +that she felt no grudge against the Director +of the Play. And it gave Elizabeth great +satisfaction to believe she had actually offended +the two popular western girls. +</p> +<p> +During November afternoons, and on several +evenings, Mr. Fabian took the three friends to +the Metropolitan Museum where wonderful exhibits +of private collections were given. Here +every New Yorker was admitted free to see genuine +antiques of furniture, paintings, tapestries and +rugs, plate and ornaments. And with such a marvelous +judge to escort them about and explain details +that might have escaped other than his knowing +eye, Anne and her two charges felt well repaid +for their time. It proved not only instructive but +very absorbing—these personal talks with Mr. +Fabian about the rare and ancient articles. +</p> +<p> +Valuable volumes treating on subjects which +most aspirants of art are acquainted with, began +to fill the shelves in the rooms on the first floor of +the stable-studio; and quite often, Mr. Fabian +brought in a “treasure” he had picked up at a +second-hand book shop. He would read aloud in +a cultivated voice, such bits as he thought would +interest young and ambitious girls. Then, after +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89'></a>89</span> +he had bid his hostesses good-night, he generally +left the volume behind. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps the very fact that Polly and Eleanor +seemed to be apart from the other school-girls +and their pastimes, made them all the more desirable +to court. Not but that the two western girls +liked fun and frolic as much as anyone, but they +seemed always to have engagements with people +the school-girls had never met, nor heard of. +</p> +<p> +Now and then, Mrs. Wellington took her girls +to a matinee, and then Polly and Eleanor laughed +and enjoyed the play as heartily as the others. But +while other school-girls were foolishly mincing up +and down the Peacock Allies of the large hotels, +and sipping tea in company with young men, the +two girl chums were eagerly listening to a lecture +given at one of the art buildings, or admiring a +private collection only open to the public for a +few afternoons. +</p> +<p> +A few days before Thanksgiving, Mr. Maynard +arrived and then the routine of the girls’ +daily life suddenly changed. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor insisted upon her father taking her +room while she went to Polly’s chamber to sleep +upon the day-bed there. Mr. Maynard wanted to +remain at the hotel to save the girls any inconvenience, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90'></a>90</span> +but the girls would not hear of his being +away from Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +The school play was scheduled for the Tuesday +evening before Thanksgiving Day. But all the +ball-rooms and other auditoriums, had been engaged +weeks before November, so Mrs. Wellington +had to take what she could get, or postpone +the date of the play. Elizabeth Dalken was determined +to have it on the evening set, and so the +poor lady started again, to seek for some available +hall, with Elizabeth accompanying her. Finally +they secured a small assembly hall near Central +Park West, but it was far from being desirable +for the girls. +</p> +<p> +The dirty walls had to be hidden beneath flags +and bunting, and the tarnished gas chandeliers had +to be covered with crepe paper. The crude stage +was decorated with pine branches and palms, and +in places where the doors or windows were located, +(minus the doors,) the girls grouped palms +and evergreens, so that the hall looked quite inviting +before evening. +</p> +<p> +A bevy of happy girls superintended the decorations +while butlers, grooms, and even the chauffeurs, +did the hard work. Polly and Eleanor +joined the merry group and instantly offered to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91'></a>91</span> +work, but Elizabeth Dalken scorned their assistance. +</p> +<p> +“People who live in a <em>stable</em> can know nothing +about decorating!” she said, insultingly. +</p> +<p> +Polly sent her a glance of pity, but Eleanor retorted: +“Stable! Well, the richest and most respected +banker of Chicago is visiting us in that +stable! And he is my very own father, too! If +you were out there, now, I’d hate to think of what +we’d do to <em>you</em>!” +</p> +<p> +Elizabeth sneered and was about to reply, but +Polly dragged her friend away, forcibly, and they +were soon leaving the room. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Wellington had been thoroughly enjoying +her conversation with the pleasant banker from +Chicago, and now she smilingly said: “I can +readily see where Eleanor gets her common sense +and pleasing manners.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard laughed and watched the two +girls hurry over to join him. A glance at his +daughter’s face, however, told him that something +had gone wrong, but Mrs. Wellington hoped to +check the complaint at that moment. She suddenly +turned her head, seemed to hear someone +call, and then spoke to Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Come with me, dears, I believe we are wanted +in the dressing rooms.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92'></a>92</span> +</p> +<p> +Once out of ear-shot of Mr. Maynard, she +whispered: “Oh, do not allow Eleanor to say one +word to her father that will spoil everything. I +will look into this matter myself after to-night. +But so much depends on this play going smoothly, +and how can it if some one causes an explosion?” +</p> +<p> +Polly felt sorry for poor Mrs. Wellington, for +she really did have a hard life of it, trying to keep +peace continually where so many girls were concerned. +And she promised to try and calm Eleanor’s +fury and determination to oust Elizabeth +Dalken from the Wellington School for Young +Ladies. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93'></a>93</span><a name='chVI' id='chVI'></a>CHAPTER VI—THE NIGHT OF THE PLAY</h2> +<p> +Of the sixty odd pupils in Mrs. Wellington’s +school, at least fifteen of them were to participate +in the play. There was to be a Chorus of six girls, +and a Ballet, besides the principals who also acted +the drama to follow. Consequently the representative +scholars not appearing on the stage, had +been asked to act as ushers, and general supervisors +of harmony. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian and Mr. Maynard conducted Anne +and her mother to the seats reserved for them, and +soon the friends and families of the scholars filed +in and took their seats. As the hall was generally +used for other purposes, the floor was not graded, +and the seats were not attached to the floor. They +were ordinary wooden folding chairs to be piled +up at the end of the performance. +</p> +<p> +The pianist and other music teachers from +school formed the orchestra, and their opening +number was rendered so well that an encore +followed. +</p> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i002' id='i002'></a> +<img src="images/illus-094.jpg" alt="POLLY STAGGERED OUT OF THE DOOR CARRYING ELIZABETH ON HER SHOULDER." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>POLLY STAGGERED OUT OF THE DOOR CARRYING ELIZABETH ON HER SHOULDER.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94'></a>94</span></div> +<p> +Eleanor whispered comically to Polly, as they +stood in the entrance door: “Maybe the friends +hope to postpone the acting a little longer.” +</p> +<p> +When the curtain was drawn aside and the first +act of the playlet began, individuals in the audience +became interested in watching their own girls +in the troupe. The Chorus did very well, and the +Ballet danced as gracefully as well-taught girls +should, but once the actual acting began, there was +a slight disappointment felt by the spectators. +</p> +<p> +The leading lady (the programme said it was +Miss Elizabeth Dalken) was the whole show. She +managed to keep in the lime-light even when she +was not speaking, or acting a part. And so much +of one actress, whether good or bad, was bound to +pall on the audience. +</p> +<p> +“Polly, she’s spoiling the whole play! I wonder +the other girls stood for it at the rehearsals,” +whispered Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“She didn’t act that way, before, I’m sure. +Marion King told me all about it. She’s doing it +now just to show off!” +</p> +<p> +“Not to her family! because not one of her folks +are here. I heard her tell Estelle that her mother +was going to a fashionable ball, and, of course, +her father wouldn’t come because he had no invitation +from Elizabeth.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95'></a>95</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well,” persisted Polly, feeling sorry for the +girl, “she must have uncles or aunts or cousins, +here.” +</p> +<p> +“She hasn’t any in New York. Her father +comes from upstate and his folks lived there. No +one knows who her mother was, so she hasn’t a +soul, here, but the chauffeur. He’s downstairs +having refreshments.” +</p> +<p> +The second act ended and everyone sighed in +relief because the play was foolish and so poorly +acted, even for amateurs. Mrs. Wellington felt +deeply hurt when she found how Elizabeth had +chosen chums rather than actors for the principal +parts in the play. +</p> +<p> +The third act began, in which Elizabeth was +dressed in a spangled green ball-gown. It was +very tight about the ankles and very low about +the neck. It was too daring, even for a young girl +acting a part. The gown had a long swishing tail +at the back that could have been graceful on a +vampire, but not on this posing girl. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Wellington shook her head disapprovingly +at sight of Elizabeth, and wished, more than +once, that she had taken more time to review the +actors and their costumes, before they appeared +in public. +</p> +<p> +The Assembly Hall building where the play +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96'></a>96</span> +was given, had four stories. The first floor was +used for refreshments, with a kitchen at the back. +The second was a billiard parlor for the use of +private clubs. The third floor was given over to +the Hall, and the fourth floor was turned +into dressing-rooms, card-rooms, smoking-room, +et cetera. +</p> +<p> +As no late arrivals were expected after the third +act had opened the ushers, placed at the doors, +closed them to shut out the talking and laughing +in the billiard rooms. Then they sat down at +either side of the door, to watch the play. +</p> +<p> +The third act was progressing slowly, when the +ushers heard sounds of confusion coming from +downstairs. But they merely exchanged glances +and thought some men were quarreling over +a game of billiards. +</p> +<p> +Soon afterward, a faint odor and a haze of +smoke penetrated through the chinks of the doors, +and Polly jumped up quickly to investigate. The +moment she opened a door, however, a thick cloud +of smoke poured in. She had to cough, but she +remembered to instantly slam the door again. +</p> +<p> +The other girls saw the smoke and a panic might +have followed, had not Anne immediately jumped +upon the stage and shouted: +</p> +<p> +“Remember—do not lose your heads! That is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97'></a>97</span> +the only danger. We can all get out safely if +everyone will be calm and orderly.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard took Mrs. Stewart with one arm, +and caught Eleanor in his other, then called to Mr. +Fabian to do the same with Anne and Polly. But +there was such a dense mob at the only exit doors, +that it was impossible to force a way through there, +and the heavy smoke was now rapidly filling the +hall. +</p> +<p> +To add to the scene of fear and confusion, the +women in the assembly cried, some screamed, the +girls ran back and forth, and the men were venting +their fears in calling upon Deity,—some +scarcely audible, and others in shrill screams of +excitement. +</p> +<p> +Outside, one could hear the mingled calls and +shouts of onlookers, the clanging of bells on the +engines, and the yells of the people who had escaped +and wanted to help their friends out. There +were four front windows of the hall where the +school entertainment was being given, but these +were now jammed with women who sought that +way to gain a breath of air, but were too timid to +jump out to the street; and there were no fire-escapes +to be found. The hallways and several +doors opening to them, were a pitiful sight. The +men, women, and children were crying, jostling, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98'></a>98</span> +and stampeding each other in their vain efforts to +get out and find the stairway in the dense smoke +that kept pouring up from below. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian saw the panic and realized that his +friends must seek a rear exit, or remain until the +tardy firemen brought the ladders up to the building +to help them out. So he hurried to the door +back of the stage. It had escaped the frightened +eyes of others. Having learned that this door +opened upon an entry that ran to a rear window, +he next discovered the usual fire-escape that ran +down to the yard, and up to the roof. It took him +but a moment to assure himself that the escape +was safe, then he rushed back. +</p> +<p> +“This way! Follow me—everyone!” he shouted +to his friends. +</p> +<p> +They all hurried to the window and Mr. Fabian +went first, in order to assist the ladies out to +the iron-slatted platform, and then to start them, +sure-footed, on the upward climb of the narrow +iron steps. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Stewart went first, but she was so nervous +that Mr. Fabian followed closely behind her to +steady her trembling form. Anne followed after +her mother in climbing through the window, and +Mr. Maynard followed her. The two girls were +about to climb out on the platform when they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99'></a>99</span> +heard a moan, and then a shrill cry, from the small +dressing-room back of the stage. +</p> +<p> +Anne ordered the girls to come out, but Polly +turned and ran back. Eleanor followed, and +Anne, distracted, climbed back, too. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla, tie something over your mouth and nose—use +your chiffon scarf,” commanded Polly, winding +a wide silk sash about her own head. +</p> +<p> +The girls groped along the entry but could not +distinguish a thing in the thick, choking haze. Then +Polly came to the dressing-room back of the stage. +This was comparatively clear from smoke, and +there the girls saw Elizabeth Dalken stretched +upon the floor, a cut in her forehead attesting to +the cause of her sharp scream. +</p> +<p> +“Great Scott, Polly! What can we do now?” +cried Eleanor, as the idea of trying to carry the +girl up the steep ladder-way flashed across her +mind only to be spurned. She had no idea of leaving +her there to her fate, however. +</p> +<p> +“If we only had a rope!” wailed Polly. +</p> +<p> +“But we haven’t! If I only knew this house +better I might find a back-stairway. Most city +houses have them and I should think this place +would have one.” +</p> +<p> +“Of course! Nolla, close this door to keep out +smoke. I’ll look for the stairs.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100'></a>100</span> +</p> +<p> +The few excited sentences were muttered +through the mufflers tied over the girls’ mouths +and noses. Then both girls began groping their +way to the rear, hunting for the back-stairs. +</p> +<p> +The mass of people that had surged from the +Hall had made for the wide front stairs, and but +few remembered to seek for a back exit. And +these had speedily found a way down. Polly and +Eleanor also found the narrow back stairs, then +Polly hastily commanded: +</p> +<p> +“Run and tell Anne—she can call to your Dad +and explain. Then tell her to come this way, with +us. I’ll lift Elizabeth over my shoulders and +start down with her—Anne and you follow, at +once!” +</p> +<p> +In another moment, Polly was back in the dressing-room +while Eleanor was running for the rear +window to advise Anne. But she found her already +inside tying a veil over her mouth and nose. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla—where’s Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“All right—come on!” +</p> +<p> +“I told your father—they are safe on the roof—hurry +now!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor led Anne through the smoke, and just +as they reached the entry, Polly staggered out of +the stage-door with the unconscious girl hanging +over her shoulder. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101'></a>101</span> +</p> +<p> +“Polly! Polly! You never can carry her!” +cried Anne, in a smothered voice through the +veiling. +</p> +<p> +But Polly kept her mouth closed and struggled +on to the back stairs. Anne began to cough and +choke as a reward for trying to speak, but she +reached the stairs first and rushed on down to see +if there was a safe passage below. Eleanor was +close upon her heels, and Polly followed more +circumspectly. +</p> +<p> +They reached the kitchen of the house without +trouble but the heat as they passed by the second +floor was terrific. Once down on the ground floor +they found the rear of the place quite free from +smoke, but it might only be because the fire overhead +was blazing upward. At any moment the +wall or upper floors might crash down and fall +upon them. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla—how can we get out of this pen?” cried +Anne. +</p> +<p> +“If the house is anything like Chicago’s, I’ll +show you. There must be an area or cellar exit to +the street.” +</p> +<p> +The kitchen light was still burning but it looked +weird in the smoke-laden atmosphere. Eleanor +tried different doors but found that they opened +into passages leading to closets or to the front +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102'></a>102</span> +rooms. Finally she opened one and caught a whiff +of fresh uncontaminated air. +</p> +<p> +“Thank heavens! Here it is, but I don’t know +where it ends.” +</p> +<p> +Anne and she pushed out, with Polly behind +them. They were in a dark alley, now, and had +to trust to good fortune to come out somewhere, +in safety. Down several stone steps, and along +another dark, damp area they went, and then Eleanor +stumbled against a closed door. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, mercy! Are we locked in here?” she +yelled desperately, beating the door with her +clenched fists. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla—let me feel for a handle—you are +hysterical!” cried Anne, swiftly passing her hands +over the rough wood. +</p> +<p> +“Hurry, hurry! I can’t carry this weight a minute +longer!” breathed Polly, hoarsely. +</p> +<p> +Just at that moment, Anne’s hand struck an iron +bolt. In a second she had shot it backwards, and +the heavy door swung open to give them an exit +to the side street. +</p> +<p> +All three girls ran frantically forward and Polly +dropped her heavy burden upon a grass strip +which edged the curb. Eleanor sobbed with relief +and Anne fell upon her knees in silent thanksgiving. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103'></a>103</span> +</p> +<p> +“I’m off, girls, to see if I can help, in front. +Have a care for Elizabeth,” cried Polly, and away +she flew. +</p> +<p> +That silenced Eleanor’s hysteria quicker than +anything else, and in another moment she was +gone after her friend, leaving Anne to watch the +still unconscious girl on the grass. +</p> +<p> +The scene in front of the building was one of +spectacular interest. Seeing the crowds of fashionably-dressed +people grouped opposite the flaring +house, it would seem that everyone of the +guests had escaped. But there was a deafening +mixture of cries and shouts from every direction. +Some were crying for lost friends, some wailed for +help because of injuries inflicted by the stampede; +firemen signaled their associates; the old proprietor +of the Hall ran madly to and fro shouting +and gesticulating wildly to everyone; in fact, it +was a scene that shocked Polly to witness because +she thought city people had great presence of +mind. +</p> +<p> +Streams of water were pouring upon the flames +that shot from the second-story windows, but the +scaling ladders had not yet arrived, and the firemen +were striving to enter the front door in order +to carry the hose nozzle to a more effectual spot. +</p> +<p> +The Chief had sent some men through adjacent +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104'></a>104</span> +houses to reach the roofs and work downwards +from that vantage spot. But they had not yet appeared +when Polly saw how she could assist. +</p> +<p> +Acting upon an impulse, and doing exactly as +she would do if she was witnessing a fire at Oak +Creek, where the ranchers turn out and try to subdue +the flames, Polly hastily dropped the clinging +skirt of her evening dress. Having already removed +the silk sash while in the Hall, she now +dipped it in the flood of water that poured from +the hydrant on the curb and tied it over her mouth +and nose. Then she made a dash across the street. +</p> +<p> +She caught a coil of rope from the hook where +it hung on the back of the engine, and pushed a +way through the staring men. Before anyone +dreamed of her plan, or the firemen could restrain +her she had reached the corner of the building and +was agilely climbing the height by holding to the +copper leader. +</p> +<p> +A chorus of breathless gasps and frightened +screams came from the crowd but Polly heard +them not. She was too intent on her work. Being +nimble and so light-weight, and thoroughly accustomed +to climb up almost perpendicular cliffs, or +along dizzy peaks, this ascent seemed like play to +the mountain girl. But the onlookers were thrilled +to silence as they watched her climb to the roof, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105'></a>105</span> +and then safely crawl over the ledge. Instantly +there was such a wild cheer from the street, that +Polly wondered if something dreadful had happened. +She never thought that the acclamation +was meant for her. +</p> +<p> +Without hesitation, she ran over to a nearby +chimney and wound one end of the long rope about +it, then lowered the other end to the street. The +Chief saw the purpose, at once, and signaling +back to the girl who was leaning over the edge of +the roof, he had his men tie the rope ladder to the +rope. Then Polly began hoisting it slowly, until +its end came over the cornice. +</p> +<p> +Meantime, when Eleanor found her friend halfway +up the building, clinging to the leader and +finding foothold in the crevices between the bricks, +or on the steel bands that held the metal pipe to +its moorings, she also ran across the street, and +attempted to break through the cordon which had +been formed to permit the men to hold out a life-net +in case the daring climber should fall. +</p> +<p> +“I want to help Polly—she is my best friend!” +cried Eleanor, when the fireman made her turn +back. +</p> +<p> +Then she remembered the rear entrance from +which they had escaped. She turned to the Chief +and called hurriedly: “Send some men with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106'></a>106</span> +me—I’ll show them the cellar entrance where they can +reach the roof and different floors from the back!” +</p> +<p> +“Hallam! Colter! Take your equipment and +follow this girl to a back door. You know what +to do!” +</p> +<p> +The men detailed for this duty, beckoned a few +others, and all ran after Eleanor who now made +for the area door. She flew past Anne who was +holding Elizabeth’s head upon her lap, but forgot +to glance that way. Having gained the cellar +door, she was about to go in but Hallam stopped +her. +</p> +<p> +“No, Miss—we dare not permit anyone to enter +a burning building, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but I want to join Polly on the roof! The +only reason I showed you this way was to get +through myself!” +</p> +<p> +“I’d lose my place in the contest for prize +medals, Miss, if I broke rules. You wouldn’t want +me to lose my promotion?” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor felt that he had the best of the argument, +so she very reluctantly turned and went back +to the front of the house. There she saw that the +firemen had climbed the ladder and were stationed +on the roof and on window ledges, holding the +hose from which the water poured in torrents upon +the fire inside. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107'></a>107</span> +</p> +<p> +Then the multitude now gathered on both +streets and the corners of the Parkway, were +treated to another thrill. The strand of rope Polly +had taken with her, was now used by her for +descent. Down the taut rope like a trained +monkey, came she, and safely jumped to the street. +</p> +<p> +Before she reached the ground however, a +chorus of wild yells and hurrahs went forth from +everyone in the crowd. The Chief called imperative +orders to his men waiting with him, and the +moment he had caught Polly, he forced his way +across the street, carrying her in his arms as if she +were a babe. +</p> +<p> +His men began climbing the rope ladder taking +a hose with them. From the vantage-points +gained by Polly’s courage, the firemen now kept +steady streams of water playing through the open +windows upon the fire beneath, and thus managed +to subdue it before the hook-and-ladder truck +wheeled up beside the building. +</p> +<p> +The men, led by Eleanor to the back-stairs, +directed their efforts from that side, and soon the +whole second and third floors became a bed of +wet smoldering embers. The rest of the structure +was saved. +</p> +<p> +It was learned, later, that the club members giving +the “smoker” to friends, had been careless of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108'></a>108</span> +butts and papers, and thus the fire must have +originated. +</p> +<p> +The family living in the beautiful house opposite +the fire, took Polly in charge, and kept away +the mob of curious people who wished to see and +talk with the heroine. +</p> +<p> +Polly was all right, and wondered why she +should be kept indoors when others on the outside +might need assistance. Suddenly she remembered +her discarded skirt! +</p> +<p> +“Oh, mercy me! Did I climb up that pipe looking +like this?” she cried, blushing furiously and +burying her face in the cushions of the divan. +</p> +<p> +“My dear child! It was a wonderful sight! No +one gave the slightest thought to your bloomers. +But now you shall have one of Ruth’s skirts,” returned +the lady of the house, fervently. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109'></a>109</span><a name='chVII' id='chVII'></a>CHAPTER VII—MRS. WELLINGTON’S THANKSGIVING</h2> +<p> +The moment Polly was given a skirt, she +donned it gratefully and said to Mrs. Ashby, her +hostess: “Now I must find Elizabeth and have +her cared for. I left her with Anne.” +</p> +<p> +“Where—where is she? I’ll send James for +them. But I want you to keep quiet, or you’ll be +prostrated, dear child.” +</p> +<p> +Polly smiled—she prostrated! But she explained: +“Anne is sitting on the grass on the side +street around the corner, taking care of the girl +who fainted in the back-room of the theatre.” +</p> +<p> +James was summoned from the front window +where he had been watching the fight against the +fire, and now took his orders eagerly. Polly +pointed out the corner where she had left her +friends and, in another moment, the butler was +gone. +</p> +<p> +“I s’pose I ought to go and hunt up my friends +who escaped over the roofs,” ventured Polly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110'></a>110</span> +</p> +<p> +“You’ll rest here upon this divan, or your +parents will sue me!” retorted Mrs. Ashby, trying +to compel, with gentle hands, obedience to her +command. +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed softly. “My parents would sue +you if you prevented me from doing my duty to +others. Why, you-all make such a fuss over that +pipe-climbing, and it is next to nothing for a Rocky +Mountain girl. A day in a blizzard on the cliffs +is ten times more hazardous.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Ashby was consumed with curiosity to ask +this handsome girl who she was, and all about herself, +but she controlled herself admirably, for she +knew her guest ought to keep quiet. +</p> +<p> +The door-bell rang and its echo pealed through +the house, but the servants were out watching the +exciting events of the fire, and James had been +sent for the other girls. So Mrs. Ashby opened +the door. +</p> +<p> +“I just heard that Polly Brewster was here—oh! +is she all right!” cried the excited voice of +Mrs. Wellington. +</p> +<p> +“Right as a trivet, dear Mrs. Wellington!” +called Polly springing from the couch to greet the +lady. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—oh! Thank God! I’ve worried and +cried over you three precious girls until my eyes +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111'></a>111</span> +are blinded! They told me that everyone was out +of the place but you three!” +</p> +<p> +“Did everyone manage to escape safely?” asked +Polly, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Everyone got out, but oh! such a panic! Some +are torn, and battered black and blue, from the +stampede down through those front stairs and +hall. I don’t believe a single soul got out with a +whole gown! They tell me it was all the fault +of that ‘Pool Club’ on the second floor; they gave +a ‘smoker’ to-night, and when the fire was discovered +on their floor, they caused the dreadful +block in the front halls.” +</p> +<p> +“Gowns are of no account if everyone escaped +with life,” said Mrs. Ashby. +</p> +<p> +“But it is most unfortunate for me, just now. +The story getting into the newspapers, will ruin +my reputation as a school principal. Folks will +ask, ‘Why did she ever choose such a place for +an entertainment;’ but they will never know that I +tried everywhere else, first, and found everything +engaged for this week. I begged the girl who +started the idea to postpone the play until the +week after Thanksgiving holiday, but she stubbornly +refused. So I took what I could get. I +dare not tell the reporters that it was merely to +<em>please</em> Elizabeth Dalken, and because Elizabeth’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112'></a>112</span> +father pays strictly in advance and has his daughter +take all ‘extras.’ +</p> +<p> +“You have no idea what it means to me. I am +paying off the mortgages on that house where the +school is located, so that I might be able to take +a deep breath before I am too old to work. But +this unhappy accident will ruin my reputation as +a careful superintendent.” +</p> +<p> +“Elizabeth Dalken! I know her father very +well, and we think he is one of the finest of men. +We seldom meet Mrs. Dalken or the daughter, as +we do not belong to the same set. Since Mr. +Dalken separated from his wife, we have not seen +her at all, but he was here and dined with us, this +very evening,” said Mrs. Ashby. +</p> +<p> +“If I could only explain to him just how this +happened, he might not blame me for his daughter’s +injury.” +</p> +<p> +“Was she hurt?” exclaimed Mrs. Ashby. Then +James came in, followed by three girls, and the +adults who had escaped over the roofs. +</p> +<p> +“Here we are, Polly—safe and sound,” Mr. +Maynard’s cheery voice greeted the girl who +jumped up at sight of them. +</p> +<p> +Excited cries, and hugs, and happy laughs now +followed as each one found the others without a +hurt, Elizabeth Dalken being the only one who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113'></a>113</span> +had received an injury, and that was merely a +flesh-wound cut by the edge of the door as her +head struck it. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Ashby took charge of Elizabeth, and +washed her face; then placed a strip of court plaster +over the cut to keep it clean. +</p> +<p> +The fire was out and the crowd had dispersed +before the firemen finished their work in and about +the house. The Chief came to Mrs. Ashby’s door +and asked for the young lady who was such a +marvellous climber. So he was invited in to see +for himself. +</p> +<p> +“Young lady, I want to make a record of this +deed, as I have to report everything to the police +department, you know. And I am proud to say, +our records are never kept in the dark when visitors +come in to see our engine house. It’s seldom +we can talk about, or show a page, with such a +brave act as yours, written upon it.” +</p> +<p> +Polly smiled. “But it really wasn’t anything to +fuss over. It wasn’t dangerous, you know, and for +anyone who can climb as well as I can, it would +have been cowardly to stand by and <em>not</em> act. You +needed a light, agile climber whose weight would +not break that leader away from the wall; and I +happened to be that one.” +</p> +<p> +The Chief and Mrs. Ashby exchanged glances, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114'></a>114</span> +then laughed. “I guess it’s no use trying to make +a heroine of her—she won’t have it so!” said he. +</p> +<p> +Then Eleanor spoke up. “That’s because she’s +accustomed to doing such great deeds out in the +mountains where she comes from—walking on the +heads of rattle-snakes, killing grizzlies and lions +as if they were rabbits, saving a lot of tenderfeet +from blizzards and landslides—these are but a +few of the <em>little</em> things she does out there!” +</p> +<p> +The New Yorkers gasped in astonishment; even +James, the butler, stood gaping with open mouth +at a real live heroine—never seen before by him +except on the movie screen. So intensely interested +was he, that he failed to hear his master enter +by the front door, followed by a gentleman. They +both burst into the room and stood amazed. +</p> +<p> +Then Mr. Ashby apologised for the abrupt entrance: +“Dalken and I were at the Club when +we heard of the fire so near my place. And when +Dalken heard that it was Mrs. Wellington’s +school-girls who were entertaining on the third +floor, he came with me to see if his daughter is +safe. Does anyone know where Elizabeth is?” +</p> +<p> +“Here—right here, Mr. Dalken,” Mrs. Ashby +quickly assured the father. And she beckoned +Mrs. Wellington to bring the girl from the alcove +where she had been resting. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115'></a>115</span> +</p> +<p> +“My poor little girl!” quavered the father, +taking the meek and broken-spirited Elizabeth in +his arms. “Are you badly hurt?” +</p> +<p> +She began to cry softly against his coat collar +but Mrs. Ashby reassured Mr. Dalken. “Only a +scratch. Her forehead may swell a bit and be discolored +for a few days, but that is all. Elizabeth +owes her life to these two girls here, Mr. Dalken. +One carried her out of the building after she had +fainted, and the other went first and found a way +down the back stairs.” +</p> +<p> +“Not really!” the amazed man gasped. “Tell +me about it.” +</p> +<p> +But Polly was a poor narrator, so Anne decided +to speak. She was bound that Polly should not +belittle this deed as she had the climbing to the +fourth floor of the burning building. +</p> +<p> +That Mr. Dalken was deeply moved, everyone +could see, and when he shook hands with the two +girls he said gravely, “I shall never forget how +you kept me from being childless. My baby boy +died three years ago to-night, and I could not have +stood losing my little girl, too, on the anniversary +of that sad experience.” +</p> +<p> +Elizabeth then remembered the date and hiding +her face, ran back to the alcove to cry softly to +herself. Mrs. Ashby and Mrs. Wellington knew +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116'></a>116</span> +the sad story, so they allowed her to weep alone. +But Mr. Dalken, tender-hearted, would have gone +to comfort the girl, had not Mrs. Ashby placed a +detaining hand upon his arm and said: “No, dear +friend—better leave her to remember and realize +everything.” +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor saw and heard and could not +understand, but they thought it was no concern of +theirs, so they forgot it. +</p> +<p> +Everyone had been introduced informally to +everyone else, and at last Mrs. Ashby said: “I +have had a bit of refreshment served for you, in +the dining room, before you go home. After such +exposures and excitement, I think we all will need +something.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian wished to excuse himself, but his +friends would not hear of it. Then Mr. Dalken +came over and spoke to him. “Are you Mr. +Fabian, the artist?” +</p> +<p> +“They say I am an artist, but I doubt it, myself,” +replied Mr. Fabian, humbly, but smiling at +the questioner. +</p> +<p> +“Then I am delighted to have met you, for I +have a niece studying in Paris, and she writes me +pages upon pages about Mrs. Fabian and the +daughter Nancy, and how lovely they have been +to take her about with them.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117'></a>117</span> +</p> +<p> +His wife and daughter were Mr. Fabian’s pet +subject so now he seemed to expand marvellously, +and smiled benignly upon everyone present. On +the way to the dining-room, Mr. Dalken and the +artist exchanged heart-to-heart ideas and were +soon fast friends. +</p> +<p> +But scarcely had they seated themselves ere +another mad peal of the door-bell took James +from the pleasant task of serving an impromptu +supper. He was heard arguing with someone in +the hall, then Mrs. Ashby turned to her husband +and said: “You go and see what is the matter.” +</p> +<p> +After a short time, three re-entered the room—James, +Mr. Ashby, and an ambitious-looking +young man with alert bright eyes. +</p> +<p> +“Representative from the Press wants us to give +him all the inside news about the fire,” explained +Mr. Ashby, looking at the circle about the table. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Wellington turned pale and gazed beseechingly +at Mr. Maynard, hoping he could help +her out in the inevitable story that would be written +up about her school. But Mr. Dalken saw +the look and comprehended immediately. +</p> +<p> +“Hello, Dunlap! How’d you get this assignment +from the night-editor?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh—it’s Mr. Dalken. I’m delighted to see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118'></a>118</span> +you, sir,” returned the reporter, very respectfully. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, these are friends of mine. Some of them +are the dearest friends I have, so I do not wish +them to be annoyed by finding a garbled story in +the papers to-morrow morning. Consequently, I +will, with the assistance of these friends, give you +the facts, simple and straightforward, but see that +you add nothing to them nor delete a line. Tell +your boss that I said so!” +</p> +<p> +“I sure will, Mr. Dalken, and maybe I won’t +be the thankful guy if you tell me the story! Can +I say it came from you?” was the eager reply of +the man Dunlap. +</p> +<p> +“No, sir! I am not in this at all, except as one +who rushed here to help friends. Now this is the +story for your paper.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Wellington had been anxiously whispering +to Mr. Fabian, and the latter now secured Mr. +Dalken’s attention. “May I have a word with +you, in private, before the reporter takes down +any notes?” +</p> +<p> +Out of hearing of the others, Mr. Fabian then +explained that Elizabeth had stubbornly refused +to postpone the entertainment, and because of her +insistence, Mrs. Wellington had taken whatever +hall she could find. But she did not want Elizabeth +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119'></a>119</span> +to be made to bear any of the blame, so she +wants you to touch wisely on anything that has to +do with the theatricals. +</p> +<p> +“I certainly appreciate Mrs. Wellington’s +thoughtfulness and I will remember this. I’ll see +what can be done with Dunlap.” +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Dalken is a born story-teller, Dunlap, and +that is why he is so popular, I think,” remarked +Mr. Ashby, just then. +</p> +<p> +“Sit down there by Fabian, Dunlap, and join +our circle,” cordially invited the story-teller, after +he had frowned threateningly at his host. +</p> +<p> +“Give Dunlap some coffee and don’t let him jot +down a word until I’ve done talking. Then we +will pick out the notes he is to have,” added Mr. +Dalken. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you can tell it so well, do let me write as +you narrate?” begged the reporter. +</p> +<p> +“No, sir! I can’t read short-hand and you may +get in a word I don’t want you to take. Here, +James, remove the pencil and pad from that young +man.” +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed, and Dunlap meekly surrendered +the articles mentioned. Directly Mr. +Dalken began his story, the wily reporter had another +pencil and pad before him. But Fabian +stealthily took possession of these also, and the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120'></a>120</span> +laugh went against the young man that time. +</p> +<p> +While Mr. Dalken wove a veritable thriller out +of the material provided by the fire, Mrs. Wellington +wondered how it was possible to present +the facts so well and at the same time prove, +beyond doubt, that the young ladies of Mrs. Wellington’s +school were so perfectly trained and educated +that they were a great factor in saving lives +and property that night. At the end of the story, +Mr. Dalken said that some bright investor might +find a handsome revenue in building a fire-proof +Hall where just such entertainments could be +given—high-school girls who loved to give parties +but could not lease one of the hotel ball-rooms, +weeks in advance and pay exorbitant prices, and +then possibly change their plans before the event. +</p> +<p> +“You can make a separate paragraph of what I +said, if you like, and preface it with the remark: +‘When asked what he thought about the fire, Mr. +Dalken, who viewed the blaze from a house opposite +the scene, said’: you know the rest,” the +famous financier saw that the reporter comprehended, +and then he turned to the others seated +about the table. +</p> +<p> +“Anything to add to my story?” +</p> +<p> +“It was very fine, especially about our dear +Principal, but you didn’t say enough about Polly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121'></a>121</span> +carrying Elizabeth safely out,” Eleanor said, +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“I followed a lead given me by Mr. Fabian. +We all think it best not to mention names, but to +make the incident impersonal,” explained Mr. +Dalken. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor pouted, for she wanted to have Polly +given all the credit for what she did. But a sly +look from the reporter gave her an idea, and she +smiled back understandingly. +</p> +<p> +Then the story was pieced out for Dunlap and +when he had taken down all his notes, he jumped +up and said: “I know you will excuse me for rushing +away, but I want to get this in type at once. In +case you have forgotten something, or wish to send +me a photograph of anyone, call 10000 Greeley +and I’ll see to it, without fail.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s all you’ll get on this occasion,” laughed +Mr. Dalken as James started to show the young +man to the door. But in passing Eleanor, Dunlap +sent her a mental telegram, and she closed one eye +significantly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—he left his pencils and paper!” exclaimed +Eleanor, jumping up instantly and running with +them to the front door. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Dunlap—here is your private property +that Mr. Fabian had charge of,” was what the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122'></a>122</span> +guests in the dining-room heard. But to Dunlap +she hurriedly whispered: “I’ll ’phone you after +I leave here.” +</p> +<p> +Before the party broke up that night, Mrs. Ashby +learned that Mrs. Maynard was an old schoolmate +of hers, and expressed a wish that Polly and +Eleanor would visit her again and meet Ruth who +was then visiting friends for Thanksgiving week. +</p> +<p> +“I really cannot voice my gratitude to all these +kind friends,” said Mrs. Wellington, as they stood +in the reception hall saying good-night. “Not only +has dear Mr. Dalken turned harsh public condemnation +from my doors, but the story as he told +it, actually brings glory to the school.” +</p> +<p> +“And why should it not, my dear Madam? +Have you not fought and struggled with every +girl in your charge, to perfect and express just the +qualities I have given you credit for?” said Mr. +Dalken. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes, <em>I</em> have tried so hard, but how many +people, or even parents, would credit me with such +endeavors? Once they read it in the papers they +will accept the statement, but it is so hard to impress +folks by actual demonstration,” sighed the +thankful lady. +</p> +<p> +“Thank heavens, Mrs. Wellington, that you +have a whole day of peace before you, in which to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123'></a>123</span> +remember that you have found a group of people, +here, who not only appreciate your efforts but have +tried to make others approve them,” said Mrs. +Ashby, earnestly. +</p> +<p> +“Indeed I have! I expect to have the very best +of Thanksgivings, due to all of you dear people. +Some day I will be able to show my gratitude for +this.” And the lady’s voice quavered with emotion. +</p> +<p> +“And you’ll find the story in the papers will not +only spare you any criticism, but actually praise +your school,” added Mr. Ashby. +</p> +<p> +“You may be overwhelmed with new scholars,” +suggested Polly, innocently. +</p> +<p> +“That’s so! I’ve always heard that discreet +publicity is the finest kind of advertising,” Eleanor +declared. “This fine tale about your scholars +ought to bring back fifty percent returns.” +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed heartily at hearing so young +a girl talk so business-like, and Mr. Dalken said: +“I am interested to know just where you got that +information?” +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it true?” demanded Eleanor, turning her +bright eyes on him. “You see, Polly and I are +going into business together, pretty soon, and I +have to take notice of all approved methods of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124'></a>124</span> +winning success. I am to be the business manager +while Polly is the decorator.” +</p> +<p> +The new acquaintances were highly amused at +such talk, and Mr. Ashby laughingly inquired: +“What profession have you chosen?” +</p> +<p> +“Interior decorators. We have started, already; +we go to Cooper Union three nights a week +and Mr. Fabian takes us to all the lectures and +exhibitions on any subject that will give us ideas +and help.” +</p> +<p> +“Well!” exclaimed Mr. Dalken, finding the +girls were really serious. Mrs. Ashby was deeply +interested, but her husband took each of the prospective +decorators by the hand and shaking them +cordially, said: “Let us congratulate each other, +for I am already established as a decorator. I +want to help you onward in every possible way, +my dear girls, so call on me whenever you want +help. Just as Fabian takes you to these valuable +exhibitions and lectures, so the four of us pulling +together ought to arrive somewhere.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian was as pleased at the news as either +of his protegées, and they left the Ashbys feeling +very much at peace with the world and everything +in it. +</p> +<p> +As Eleanor ran down the shallow brown-stone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125'></a>125</span> +steps to the sidewalk, she turned back and called +to Mr. Ashby: “Who knows! We may end by +going into partnership with you, some day!” +</p> +<p> +He laughed, and said: “Who knows?” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126'></a>126</span><a name='chVIII' id='chVIII'></a>CHAPTER VIII—A WEEK OF PLEASURE</h2> +<p> +As Mr. Maynard occupied Eleanor’s room at +the Studio, and she used the couch moved into +Polly’s room for the time being, it seemed difficult +for Eleanor to follow her desire to communicate +with Dunlap, the reporter, as soon as she got +home. +</p> +<p> +Everyone was dog-tired from the excitement +and the visit at the Ashbys afterward, so there was +no time lost before tumbling into bed. Eleanor +found it very hard to keep her eyes open until she +could hear Polly sleeping heavily. Then she crept +from the bed. +</p> +<p> +Downstairs was the print of a photograph taken +a few weeks before, of a group of Mrs. Wellington’s +scholars. Polly and herself were in this +group, and Eleanor planned to get it into the reporter’s +hands for reproduction to print a picture +of Polly in the morning’s paper. +</p> +<p> +She found the photograph without noise or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127'></a>127</span> +trouble and then sat down before the telephone +stand in the corner of the living room. “I hope to +goodness no one upstairs will hear me talk,” +thought Eleanor to herself, as she gave the number +to Central. +</p> +<p> +“Hello—is this 10000 Greeley? +</p> +<p> +“Give me Mr. Dunlap, please. +</p> +<p> +“The lady who said she would call him about +the fire. +</p> +<p> +“No, you won’t do! I want Dunlap! +</p> +<p> +“He isn’t in? I don’t believe you! Get off the +wire! +</p> +<p> +“Hello—hello! H-e-l-lo! I want editor’s desk—10000 +Greeley, and be quick about it!” snapped +Eleanor, feeling quite irritable because of the loss +of sleep, and the strange reporter’s laugh at her. +</p> +<p> +“Is this the night-editor?” now asked Eleanor, +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“U—um! May I speak to Mr. Dunlap—the +reporter you assigned on the fire story uptown, +to-night? +</p> +<p> +“Oh—he isn’t in? Well, but he said he would +wait to take some important notes from me. I +can’t believe he is out. +</p> +<p> +“Well, then, you may be the night-editor, but +you sound exactly like that fresh reporter who +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128'></a>128</span> +spoke to me a moment ago. I cannot understand +why you employ such rude youths as he is.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor grinned to herself for she was quite +sure she was speaking to the same reporter who +answered the call, at first. An answering laugh +convinced her she was right, and she hissed +through the telephone: “If you knew who I was, +you wouldn’t keep me sitting in the cold like this. +Now you can either call Dunlap or I’ll give +my story to your enemy downtown. The reporters +of that paper are just dying to get my story.” +</p> +<p> +That proved miraculous. To prevent the downtown +competitor from getting the story, the unknown +was willing to turn it over to his opponent, +Dunlap. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor recognised Dunlap’s voice the moment +he took the ’phone, and she gave him some interesting +personal facts about Polly and herself, and +why they were now studying in New York. She +talked for half-an-hour, praising Polly and her +wonderful character, and finally began telling +about the escape from Grizzly Peak at the time +of the landslide. But Dunlap interrupted her +with: +</p> +<p> +“I can’t get all of that in—we go to press very +shortly.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129'></a>129</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, dear! Can’t you run over here and get +this photo of Polly, that I have ready for you?” +</p> +<p> +“For the morning edition?” gasped Dunlap. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, to accompany the story of the fire.” +</p> +<p> +“My dear young lady—do you know how long +it takes to make a plate for the paper?” +</p> +<p> +“A plate? I said ‘a photograph,’ Mr. Dunlap.” +</p> +<p> +“But we have to make a reproduction of yours, +then print it on a plate, then give it an acid bath, +then etch and rout, and mount—and it all takes +time before the plate is ready to be stereotyped +for the printing in the paper.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh! I thought you just took the picture and +copied it in the paper. Of course, I never stopped +to inquire into what process it went through. But +if you say you can’t use it, I’m sorry.” +</p> +<p> +“So’m I. But you might bring it in early in the +morning and I’ll see if there is enough interest in +the story to rake up an evening’s yarn.” +</p> +<p> +“Very well. I’ll do that.” +</p> +<p> +“Come in, anyway, and bring your friends. I’ll +show you through the engraving plant of the +paper. You’ll be interested.” +</p> +<p> +“Thank you—good-by.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor hung up the receiver and listened intently +to hear if anyone was stirring upstairs. All +was quiet, so she placed the photograph back on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130'></a>130</span> +the shelf and crept upstairs again. She jumped +into bed shivering, after being exposed so long to +the cold, downstairs. But utter weariness soon +brought her sleep and all was forgotten until +breakfast time. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard, speaking, woke Eleanor. She +sat up and rubbed her eyes sleepily. “Thank +goodness, we do not have to go to school for a +whole week!” declared she, throwing a shoe at +Polly’s half-buried head. +</p> +<p> +“Polly! Pol-le—ee! Wake up!” +</p> +<p> +“Wha-foh?” grunted Polly, half-dazed. +</p> +<p> +Then both girls heard Mr. Maynard call: “I’ll +be right back to breakfast, Mrs. Stewart—I’m +going to the corner for the papers.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor suddenly remembered her share in the +telling of the story about the fire, and she jumped +out of bed. “I’m going to hurry down and read +what the paper says about the fire,” said she. +</p> +<p> +Polly turned over and stretched lazily. “I don’t +care what they say. I’m going to sleep all day.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor was annoyed. “No, you won’t! We’ve +got to keep a date with Mr. Fabian this noon, and +you’ve <em>got to</em> get up!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that’s so! Mr. Fabian is going to take us +to Grand Central Palace to show us how carpets +are made. I forgot that exhibition was to-day.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131'></a>131</span> +And Polly jumped up at that remembrance when +other things had failed to move her. +</p> +<p> +The girls were downstairs in time to open the +front door for Mr. Maynard. He was grinning +teasingly, as he tried to keep a great mass of +morning papers from slipping out from under his +arm. He held out an opened sheet for the girls +to see. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, what a horrid face! Who is it?” exclaimed +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“The paper states it is you, my dear,” laughed +her father. +</p> +<p> +“What—never! Oh, what awful people these +newspaper men are! Dad, can’t you go down there +and horse-whip them? I never looked like that +in all my life!” and Eleanor stamped her foot in a +fury. +</p> +<p> +Polly had been gazing at the two faces printed +on the front sheet of the morning paper, but now +she laughed. “Oh, if I looked like that picture, I +could have put out the fire by merely turning my +face to it!” +</p> +<p> +Anne and her mother came in when they heard +Mr. Maynard’s loud laughter. They, too, stared +at the oval-framed pictures said to be “The two +heroines of the dreadful fire at Assembly Hall.” +</p> +<p> +“Anne, where under the sun did the newspapers +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132'></a>132</span> +get those two pictures?” asked Polly, tittering +every time she saw the ovals. +</p> +<p> +“Every newspaper has a department known +as the ‘morgue,’ or some such name. They +keep, filed away, pictures of every well-known person +in the world. In the package indexed under +the proper name, are one or two ‘cuts’ ready to use +in case of a hurry. Then when a person dies, or +is married, or something or other happens, the +newspaper rushes to its files and gets out the picture, +or cut, needed. +</p> +<p> +“It is the same with famous buildings, or ships, +or objects of any kind. If something comes up +that brings the thing to the public attention, there +the papers have the pictures all ready to print. +</p> +<p> +“Now they keep lots of photographs, just like +these two, which they buy from cheap photographers. +They buy a hundred in a job lot, and if +they want a picture and can’t secure a legitimate +one, or a snap-shot from the reporter’s kodak, +they use what they have on hand. +</p> +<p> +“It would be extremely amusing to be present +when these girls see their faces in the paper. It +will prove almost as funny as seeing you two girls +scorning these strange faces.” +</p> +<p> +But Mr. Maynard had been reading the article +while Anne had explained the methods of many +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133'></a>133</span> +newspapers, and now he exclaimed: “By jove! +Dalken never said a word about all this life-history!” +</p> +<p> +“What’s that, Daddy? Read it to us,” begged +Eleanor, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Why—wh-y-y—the young rascal hit it right on +the head, all right! But where did he get it?” +continued Mr. Maynard. +</p> +<p> +“For pity’s sake—read it aloud!” commanded +Eleanor, hardly able to hold her tongue about the +story. +</p> +<p> +Then Mr. Maynard read it, and it lost none of +its vivid coloring by his reading, either. When he +had almost concluded, Polly began to grow angry. +When he finished, she was furious. +</p> +<p> +“I’m going up to that office and I’ll fight that +reporter. He had no more right to print that than +those other men had to use someone else’s photographs +and call them ours. So there!” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard had been thinking seriously, and +now he nailed Eleanor with a penetrating look. +“Nolla, did you tell that young rascal this story +when you ran to the door with his pencil and paper +last night?” +</p> +<p> +“No, indeed! I did not, Daddy! You can ask +the butler if I ever did! He stood right there +when I handed Dunlap the pencil!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134'></a>134</span> +</p> +<p> +Eleanor’s denial was so emphatic that everyone +believed she was innocent of any such plot; so they +never found out who was the guilty one. +</p> +<p> +While at breakfast, the telephone rang. “This +is Mr. Latimer, Anne. We have just read the +papers and were so surprised! When we saw the +pictures of the two heroines, we feared some +dreadful thing had happened to distort their faces +so that we failed to recognise them, and I hastened +to inquire. Do you need Dr. Evans’ services to +straighten out those faces?” +</p> +<p> +An amused laugh could be heard over the wire, +and Anne laughed back. “No, thanks; a good +night’s rest has brought back their natural looks. +The faces in the paper must have been taken by +the flickering flame of the burning dwelling.” +</p> +<p> +“Jim and Ken came home late last night for the +Holiday. We wanted to congratulate you girls +on trying so hard for the Carnegie Medal, but +now Jim wants to say ‘good-morning.’” +</p> +<p> +In another moment, Jim’s voice was heard +speaking. “Oh, good-morning, Anne. Have you +used Pears Soap?” Then a gay laugh. +</p> +<p> +“We have, but you haven’t! Your father +just told me you got in at midnight, and if you’re +up as early as this, I’m sure the sleep hasn’t been +washed from your eyes,” retorted Anne. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135'></a>135</span> +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor crowded close and hung over +the ’phone so they could hear what Jim had to say. +</p> +<p> +“I only wanted to say, I’ve got tickets for the +show, to-night, and the girls are not to go anywhere +else.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, tell him we’re out of town on a week-end +party,” Eleanor whispered, hurriedly to Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Are the tickets good for Eleanor’s father and +my mother, in case the girls go out of town?” +teased Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Say—you really don’t mean that?” Jim’s voice +sounded very sad. +</p> +<p> +“I cannot tell a lie—I am like George, you see, +and I’ll let the girls fib for themselves,” laughed +Anne, getting up from the stool and handing the +instrument to Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, here, Nolla! You do it! You know I +don’t like this jiggery quivery thing!” cried Polly, +quickly placing the telephone apparatus on the +table and making room for Eleanor on the chair. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor was delighted to talk with Jim, and she +kept at it until a clicking in her ear notified her +that someone wanted to get them on the wire, so +she hurriedly rang Jim off. +</p> +<p> +“Hello!” called Eleanor to the next inquirer. +</p> +<p> +“Hello—1234 Madison Square?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136'></a>136</span> +</p> +<p> +“This is Mr. Ashby speaking. Is this one of +the heroines?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Ashby! Yes, it is Nolla. What do +you think of the story in the paper—and the funny +photographs?” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“I laughed myself sick over it at breakfast. My +wife and I wondered how that young rascal got +them, and James explained.” +</p> +<p> +Here Eleanor turned white, for she wondered +if the butler really had seen her wink at Dunlap. +“My, but I’m thankful I got at this wire instead +of Anne,” said she to herself. +</p> +<p> +“Two of our maids had their postal-card pictures +taken the other day, and upon rushing out +of the front door to watch the fire last night, they +laid them upon the hall table. James saw them +there, later, but thinking the girls would soon be +coming in to take them upstairs, he did nothing +about it. +</p> +<p> +“Then in the excitement of watching Miss Polly +climb the front of the house, and have the Chief +carry her over to our house, the pictures were completely +forgotten. As the young reporter went +out, James saw Miss Eleanor take his hat from +the stand and hand it to him. But nothing was +thought about the cards. Later, however, they +were gone. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137'></a>137</span> +</p> +<p> +“This morning the papers have the photographs +of Mary, the waitress, and Gladys, the upstairs +girl, as heroines of the fire. Maybe our +maids are not tickled to pieces to find themselves +so famous.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor heard both Mr. and Mrs. Ashby laughing +merrily over the mistake, and then she said: +“Do you suppose I handed the cards to Dunlap +when I picked up his papers and hat?” +</p> +<p> +“Undoubtedly. But the joke is, he thinks you +meant to do it very secretly, you see, so he never +mentioned it but hurried the work on the pictures +so as to have them in the morning’s paper. He +most likely believes that that was why you ran +after him—to manage to give him those two +photographs to use. I think the laugh is entirely +on him, don’t you, Eleanor?” +</p> +<p> +But Eleanor did not say. She sat and studied +the pattern in the rug for a time, refusing to answer +all the questions asked. Then she decided +that Mr. Ashby must have heard from Dunlap +that morning, and was told how she had added +many facts to Mr. Dalken’s story. But this funny +error of using the maid’s photographs, was retribution +on her head. +</p> +<p> +The young people, with Anne to chaperone +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138'></a>138</span> +them, enjoyed the play that night, and then the +boys outlined the programme they had made for +the week. +</p> +<p> +The next day, being Thanksgiving, the entire +party was to dine at the Latimers’. Then they +would go for an automobile drive, and in the evening +all would enjoy an impromptu supper and +dance at the Evans’. +</p> +<p> +Friday morning the boys would take the girls +skating at St. Nicholas Rink. They begged to +attend Mr. Fabian and the girls in the afternoon +at the Textile Exhibition, then dinner at the Studio, +and another play at night. +</p> +<p> +Saturday morning the girls were going to visit +Mr. Ashby’s famous decorating establishment, and +get a glimpse first-hand of what a modern decorator +must do and know to succeed. In the afternoon +the boys wanted to take in a matinee, but the +girls were invited to dinner at the Ashbys, and to +spend the evening with their daughter Ruth. So +Jim said nothing, but he instantly planned how +to meet the Ashbys. +</p> +<p> +“Now don’t go and make any more dates for +next week, without asking us, understand!” declared +Jim, when he heard that Saturday was +engaged and Sunday, partly so. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139'></a>139</span> +</p> +<p> +“How can we help it if our parents and chaperones +do it without our knowledge,” queried +Eleanor, innocently. +</p> +<p> +“Well, I’ll speak to them, then. Ken and I will +have to be off again next week; so for the few days +we have at home we want you girls to pass up all +other fun. You’ve got all the year for other beaux, +you know,” grumbled Jim. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor laughed. “Oh, yes,” said the +latter, “we just keep on the go continually, every +afternoon and evening, with a devoted swain each +day to replace the ones of the day before.” +</p> +<p> +“Where do you meet them?” demanded Jim, +jealously. +</p> +<p> +“We-ll—the first one Polly and I snared, we +‘picked up’ at an art sale. But we have many +opportunities to meet others, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” added Polly, entering the joke, “at +night school, you know, there are loads of young +men; and at lectures and exhibitions—and everywhere.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that why you both are so crazy to go to +these dry lecture affairs?” jeered Kenneth, thinking +himself very clever, indeed. +</p> +<p> +But they failed to get the girls to break the engagement +with the Ashbys, and Jim barely managed, +through his father’s kind auspices, to meet +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140'></a>140</span> +Mr. Dalken Saturday morning, and thus open the +way to call on the Ashbys that evening. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken was young in spirit if not in years, +and he enjoyed helping the two boys work out the +little plot so as to be present with Polly and Eleanor +at the Ashbys, that evening. But the boys +never knew that their benefactor passed up an +exciting game of chess at his club, that Saturday +night, in order to introduce them to his friends. +</p> +<p> +There were so many wonderful things to do +during that Holiday Week, that the girls could not +attend them all. Many of their school-friends +were eager to have them at teas and parties and +matinees, but all these had to be refused with +regrets. Eleanor remarked: “Wait for school +to open. We’ll be the most popular girls there. +In fact, every last girl will want to fag for us!” +</p> +<p> +“Why?” asked Polly, wonderingly. +</p> +<p> +“Because they think we are in such demand, +everywhere, that we can’t accept any invitations +of theirs. Don’t you suppose they have told each +other? Lots of those girls travel around together, +and they talk everything over. But I guess they +are wondering who takes us out so much, and what +society we travel in.” Eleanor laughed. +</p> +<p> +Polly looked at her with pity. “Nolla, sometimes +I feel <em>so</em> sorry for you! All your joy and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141'></a>141</span> +pleasure in having others act nice or kind to you, +is lost because of the education you’ve had in Bob’s +school. Now I don’t believe those girls ask us +just to cater to us because we are popular. I think +they really like us and would love to have us with +them. If I wasn’t so frightfully busy with school +at night, and other worth-while occupations, I’d +jaunt about with them.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor said nothing more, but she did a lot of +thinking. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142'></a>142</span><a name='chIX' id='chIX'></a>CHAPTER IX—POLLY’S MUSCLE</h2> +<p> +Mr. Maynard was delighted with Eleanor’s +evident improvement in health, and all fears of +the New York climate vanished entirely, before +he finished his visit in New York. He remained +a week and then said good-by, reminding Mrs. +Stewart that she had invited him for the Christmas +Holidays. They all laughed because he was +welcome, at all times, to remain as long as he +could. +</p> +<p> +Regular studies began again after the Thanksgiving +Holiday and, with the reopening of the +classes, the girls started in on a new line of art at +Cooper Union. Anne Stewart used to escort the +girls to and from the school on class-nights, but it +was such a tiresome trip for her to make, after a +hard day at school, and with lessons to go over +at home, that the girls insisted upon her staying +home. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian generally conducted them home +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143'></a>143</span> +after class, and then went on to his own rooms. +As it was hardly dark by seven-thirty, in October +and early November, it was no more hazardous +for the two girls to walk or ride down to the +Square than it would be in the daytime. +</p> +<p> +But the days were becoming so much shorter +after Thanksgiving, that it was quite dark by six +o’clock. Hence Anne worried about their going +downtown, alone, even though it was but a few +blocks. +</p> +<p> +The second week of class in December, found +Mr. Fabian absent. He had taken a severe cold +and thought better of risking his health in the bitter +wind and Scotch mist that night. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor did not speak of it to Anne, +as she, too, felt wretched that day; and they would +rather have stayed at home than have had her accompany +them to night school in her state of +health. +</p> +<p> +“You’re not to worry about us, Anne, if we do +not come in as early as usual,” said Eleanor, upon +opening the door to go out. +</p> +<p> +“Why—where will you be?” asked Anne, instantly. +</p> +<p> +“Exams. Some of the teachers are testing us +in all the work we did this last term, and we have +to write our answers. We may be a full hour later +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144'></a>144</span> +than usual; but we’ll come uptown, together, +so there’s nothing to worry about,” explained +Polly. +</p> +<p> +Anne thought she meant Mr. Fabian by “we-all” +but Polly meant several of the students who +lived a few blocks north of the Square. +</p> +<p> +Both girls were well bundled up in heavy storm +coats, mufflers, and close-fitting woollen caps +pulled down over their ears. Besides their books +and other materials, they had umbrellas to carry +but it was too windy to open them. +</p> +<p> +The examination questions proved to be most +interesting; and the answers required a great deal +of careful thought, before describing the various +types, methods and ideals of architecture and +decoration. +</p> +<p> +Polly described at large such questions as: “Can +you describe the different types that go to make +up the Egyptian people?” or the question: “How +does plant-life affect Egyptian ornament—sketch +two such plants.” +</p> +<p> +“What is a torus molding? Where is echinus +molding used? Sketch the cyma recta.” +</p> +<p> +When Polly found the questions: “Describe a +scarabæus,” and “Why did ancient Egyptians +prepare their dead as they did, and describe a +mummy and the methods used for its preservation,” she +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145'></a>145</span> +was elated, for she had made a particular +study of these subjects at the Metropolitan +Museum where the collection of Egyptian antiques +is unsurpassed. +</p> +<p> +There were many other interesting questions, all +of which Polly was eager to answer, but time was +too limited for her to say all she wished to. For +instance, she wanted to describe, at length, Greek +art and the Greek nation that was characteristic +for its own type of art and ornament. +</p> +<p> +She was anxious to tell what she knew about +color and its importance in art. Of polychromy +and what it was. In fact, she needed hours in +which to speak fully of the difference between +Greek, Egyptian and Assyrian art and ornament. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor on her part, wrote graphically of the +difference between the Arabs and Persians, and +how their modes and habits had a corresponding +effect on art. She liked to describe the style of +Romanesque art and how it governed all Eastern +Europe at one time. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor leaned to the Moorish classics and had +a weakness for Turkish designs; she loved the +warm coloring used by the Moors in their work, +and the harsh bright colors employed by the +Turks. She had no hesitation in selecting from +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146'></a>146</span> +samples shown, the Mohammedan designs, the +Chinese, the Byzantine, or Arabian patterns. She +was expert in stating why the fall of Rome affected +all art in Eastern and Western Europe, and what +was its highest development and its period of all +architecture. +</p> +<p> +It was more than an hour later than usual, when +the two girls put away their work and started out +for home. The scholars who lived on streets uptown, +had gone long before, and Polly and Eleanor +found that the high wind made it impossible for +them to open their umbrellas. +</p> +<p> +“It’s so icy we will have to use them as props,” +laughed Polly. +</p> +<p> +“My! But this sleet in one’s face is cold, isn’t +it?” gasped Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s take a short cut across the Plaza,” suggested +Polly, breaking into a run across the diamond +that separates the streets at Third and +Fourth avenues, and Eighth street. +</p> +<p> +Having reached the small oasis about the subway +station, Eleanor said: “Why not take the +subway, here, to Twenty-eighth street, Poll?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, I hate those subways! This wonderful +sleet and the quiet hissing of the ice on the windows +and walks makes me feel as if I were home. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147'></a>147</span> +No clatter of wheels, no shouting of burly men, no +<em>nothing</em> that makes a city so horrid. Let’s walk +all the way home.” +</p> +<p> +“All right,” laughed Eleanor. “I’m game!” +</p> +<p> +So they started up Fourth avenue, past Wanamakers, +and were soon lost to their surroundings +in their discussion of the examinations. +</p> +<p> +“What answer did you give to the question +‘Tell the basis of religions existing with the Persians +and the Arabs: describe the differences,’ +Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“I was not quite sure of that, Nolla, but I did +make a good thing of that question ‘Why did +Egyptians use bright colors in art?’ And also that +question that read: ‘When colors of the pattern +contrast with the colors of the back-ground, what +general rule must govern?’ You know, I just love +to ferret out these ideas.” +</p> +<p> +“So do I. But I never dreamed there was so +much wonderful knowledge to be obtained in a +course of this kind,” said Eleanor, holding her arm +before her face in order to speak distinctly. +</p> +<p> +They had now reached Eleventh street, and +were passing a saloon still brightly lighted, in spite +of Prohibition Laws. In the doorway lounged +three tough-looking young men; but the red-cheeked +girls scarcely saw them—they were too +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148'></a>148</span> +interested in their conversation. An empty auto +stood by the curb, but no other vehicle or person +was in sight. +</p> +<p> +When the girls came under the arc of light that +reflected from the globes in the saloon-window, +one of the flippant young men said, quite loud +enough for Polly and Eleanor to hear: “I say! +Ain’t them two goils peaches, though!” +</p> +<p> +His two companions laughed rudely, but the +girls hastened on without a word or look. Another +of the trio then said: “Betcha they’d be +glad of comp’ny. I’ll try it.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor whispered anxiously to Polly: “What +time do you think it is?” +</p> +<p> +“It was almost eleven when we stopped writing. +It must be nearly eleven-thirty now.” +</p> +<p> +“Pretty late for such a bad night. We’ll take +the subway at Fourteenth street, Polly.” +</p> +<p> +“Reckon we’d better. Are there no policemen +about these corners?” +</p> +<p> +“Not when you need one. On fine summer +nights you will see them strolling about, maybe.” +</p> +<p> +The girls tittered, but instantly hushed when +they heard voices directly behind them. +</p> +<p> +“Pretty evenin’ fer a walk, goils.” +</p> +<p> +No reply was vouchsafed to this remark but the +girls kept right on with their customary swift gait. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149'></a>149</span> +</p> +<p> +“Ain’t che hankerin’ fer comp’ny?” chuckled +another tough. +</p> +<p> +“Ah, come on back, fellers. What’s th’ use +foolin’ wid a coupla high-brows on such a nasty +night!” argued one of the three. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor fervently hoped they would +go back, but the other fellow replied: “G’wan +back, if yeh wants. Bill and me er goin’ to have +some fun. Come on, Bill.” +</p> +<p> +Polly now glanced at Eleanor and said in a low +tone: “Get a good grip on your umbrella. Thank +heavens we haven’t any books or papers to carry, +as we usually have.” +</p> +<p> +Then the fellow called Bill, said: “You amble +up to the peacherino on the outside, whiles I take +to the inside one, Andy.” +</p> +<p> +“There’s the boss’s car waiting fer nuttin. We +kin give them a ride—a joy ride fer us,” harshly +laughed Andy. +</p> +<p> +Bill joined in the suggestive laugh, and both +girls unconsciously hastened their steps. +</p> +<p> +“No hurry, my pretties. There ain’t a cop twixt +here an’ the saloon on Fourteenth street. Don’t +we’se know this districk? Ha-ha!” +</p> +<p> +“Ready for a fight, Nolla!” hissed Polly, suddenly +wheeling and facing the accosters. +</p> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150'></a>150</span></div> +<p> +Eleanor also turned, a second later, and both +men were taken by surprise. Polly’s eyes blazed +and she gave the roughs such a scornful look that +it should have withered them as they stood there. +</p> +<p> +“Now you two out-laws turn-about-face and +march downtown as fast as you know how!” commanded +she. +</p> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i003' id='i003'></a> +<img src="images/illus-150.jpg" alt="“NOW YOU TWO OUT-LAWS TURN-ABOUT-FACE AND MARCH!” COMMANDED POLLY." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>“NOW YOU TWO OUT-LAWS TURN-ABOUT-FACE AND MARCH!” COMMANDED POLLY.</span> +</div> +<p> +“Ah, ha, Bill! I envy you your choice! She +turns out to be a regerler sport. See them eyes +shoot fire? Let me have a kiss, me pritty, afore +Bill gits them all!” As the fellow Andy spoke +insinuatingly, he stepped forward to take hold of +Polly. +</p> +<p> +At the same moment her umbrella swung back +over her head and the muscular young arm instantly +brought down the heavy metal knob upon +the soft cap that covered the head of the ruffian. +The blow was so unexpected, and forceful as well, +that it staggered Polly’s assailant. +</p> +<p> +Both men cursed fluently, then, and Bill threatened: +“Jus’ fer dat, you’se is goin’ to get what’s +comin’ to yeh!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor wanted to turn and run, but she would +not have deserted Polly for all the world, so she +screamed “Help! Help!” with all her lung-power—and +she had plenty of it. +</p> +<p> +Bill hesitated to attack Eleanor as she yelled +and screamed for help, but Andy was raging and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151'></a>151</span> +tried to close in with Polly. The umbrella was +flung aside, and in another minute Polly launched +at his face with a closed fist. It struck him between +the eyes and caused a howl of pain. +</p> +<p> +Before he could collect himself, the daring girl +had struck him another fearful blow under the +chin. This sent him back flat upon his back, and +while he was trying to crawl up on his knees, the +amateur pugilist turned and sent a blow at Bill. +But he had stood gaping at the amazing encounter +with his pal, and he now dodged his own +undoing. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor saw her opportunity. She had no time +to lift her umbrella for a blow, and it had no solid +handle like Polly’s, but she fiercely rammed +the steel-capped end of the rod into the pit of +the rascal’s stomach, so that, instantly, he buckled +up. He sank down groaning while he struggled +to get his breath. +</p> +<p> +Andy was up on his feet again by this time, but +Bill was out of the fight, so both girls gave full +attention to the second villain. He fought now, +as slum ruffians will, but he was no match for the +hard knuckles, steel muscles and lithe movements, +of the Rocky Mountain maid who had grappled +with wild animals and had won out. +</p> +<p> +The groveling Bill now managed to reach out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152'></a>152</span> +a hand, planning to catch Eleanor by the ankle +and trip her. But at that moment a silent-running +automobile slid up to the curb and, at the instant +of its stopping, the door flew open and a gentleman +leaped out. In his hand he pointed a revolver, +and Andy immediately threw up both hands. +</p> +<p> +“W-h-y—Mr. Dalken. Oh, thank goodness +you came!” cried Eleanor, trembling nervously. +</p> +<p> +The chauffeur was standing guard over Bill at +the same time, so Mr. Dalken asked frowningly: +“What are you girls doing down here at this hour?—all +alone, too!” +</p> +<p> +By this time the truant officer ran over to the +group and wanted to know what was wrong. Mr. +Dalken turned on him in just anger. “Wrong—why, +you were not on the beat! That’s what’s +wrong.” +</p> +<p> +“But I was—I got a beat bigger than any Fift’ +avenoo cop what only has to parade in front of a +swell’s house.” +</p> +<p> +“You needn’t try to bull-doze me, my man. Evidently +you fail to recognise me, but we will talk +this over at the City Hall, in the morning. Now +arrest these two foot-pads.” As the officer +snapped hand-cuffs on his prisoners, Dalken +added, “By the way, why is a saloon open at this +hour—to sell soft drinks?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153'></a>153</span> +</p> +<p> +The scorn in Mr. Dalken’s tone silenced the +policeman. “Now, girls, jump into the car and I +will take you home,” offered their rescuer. But +the officer interfered when they would have +stepped inside the car. +</p> +<p> +“Your names, please, and addresses. And how +do I know that you will take these young ladies to +their home?” The tone of the man was insulting. +</p> +<p> +“If it were not for the fact that I want to hurry +these children to their family as quickly as possible, +I’d take the keenest pleasure in answering +you in a manner that you’d understand and respect. +Now you go about your tardy business and I will +see to mine. Here’s my card. The girls do not +appear in this matter at all. I am the man who +caused the ruffians’ arrest, and I will answer in +Court.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken followed the girls into the car and +the driver instantly shot away; in a short time the +car stopped in front of the Studio. As Polly and +Eleanor gratefully took Mr. Dalken’s hand, he +advised them. “Better not speak of this affair to +anyone—leave it to me to settle. But, hereafter, +do not dream of going about so late at night, unattended. +One never can tell!” +</p> +<p> +“But we can’t expect Anne to trot about with us +when she is tired out at night,” explained Eleanor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154'></a>154</span> +</p> +<p> +“Then use my car on the nights you have to go +to school. I’ll send down my Sedan, after this, +because the butler understands its tricks thoroughly. +He seldom has anything to do on +those evenings you go to school, and he can oblige +us by driving that car should I need Henri for this +car.” +</p> +<p> +The girls thanked him again, and then hurried +indoors. +</p> +<p> +“Where <em>have</em> you been so late, dears?” cried +Anne, anxiously, as they came in. +</p> +<p> +“We told you we would be late,” began Polly. +</p> +<p> +“But it is past twelve, now; I was about to call +up the police-station at Ninth street, and find out +if anything had happened.” +</p> +<p> +The two girls laughed and Eleanor pulled +Anne’s ear playfully, as she said: “Now, silly, +what could happen to us!” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155'></a>155</span><a name='chX' id='chX'></a>CHAPTER X—CHRISTMAS AND WHAT IT BROUGHT</h2> +<p> +Anne never suspected that Polly and Eleanor +had had a “hold-up” at any time, but she wondered +why Mr. Dalken should be so kind as to +loan his car to the girls on school-nights. Polly +explained simply. “Why, he never forgot what +we did for Elizabeth, and when he learned we +were trudging back and forth alone, he just +wouldn’t have it.” +</p> +<p> +“He said he couldn’t bear the thought of our +even having to travel in the subway, alone, late at +night,” added Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +So Anne, although she read about the two ruffians +who had tried to rob a wealthy broker, one +night, never dreamed that <em>her</em> two girls were victimized +before Mr. Dalken appeared to rescue +them. +</p> +<p> +Madam Wellington’s school prospered splendidly +from the publicity given it in the papers +directly after the fire. And later, when it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156'></a>156</span> +learned that Mr. Ashby, Mr. Dalken, and two +other wealthy men had purchased the corner which +had always been disfigured by the old four-story +amusement hall, and proposed erecting a twelve-story +high-class apartment house on the land, the +mention of the fire and the bravery of the Wellington +School girls again appeared in the papers. +</p> +<p> +Letters between Pebbly Pit and New York +passed twice a week, and the last news from home +was: “How we should love to have you spend +Christmas with us, Polly dearest. It will not seem +like a real Christmas with both my children away +from home.” +</p> +<p> +The letter made Polly feel home-sick and she +wrote to her mother immediately, saying: “I feel +that I shall have to come home even if it takes a +month out of school and delays me in my art +studies, unless you can plan some other way that +we might see each other this Christmas.” +</p> +<p> +Polly had a very clever plan that suddenly came +to her, as she read her mother’s words, and her +reply was the first step in working out her plan +successfully. +</p> +<p> +The second step was to go downtown and call +upon Mr. Latimer at his office. She was welcomed +there and asked what good wind blew her +downtown. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157'></a>157</span> +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed. “It’s a blizzard from the +Rockies—that is why I’m here.” Then she told +him about her mother’s home-sick words. “And +this is what we must do, Mr. Latimer, or I’ll have +to leave school and go back home.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, I will do anything rather than lose +you from New York, Polly,” Mr. Latimer laughingly +replied. +</p> +<p> +“You must find some excuse on the mining or +jewel business, that needs Daddy’s personal presence +here in New York. Make it necessary for +him to be here just before, or after Christmas. +Then I will write and let them know that you told +me about it, and insist upon having mother come +East with father, for her Christmas. Why, even +John and Paul might join us here without much +expense or trouble.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Latimer smiled. “There is no harm in +trying the plan, even if your father <em>won’t</em> leave +his ranch while it is under six feet of snow.” +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed at that. “Exactly! Dad doesn’t +have to stick there in winter-time, any more than +I do. Especially with Jeb on hand to take care +of everything.” +</p> +<p> +Then remembering a warning, she said: “But +you’ve got to find a real worthy reason for his +coming East, because I know my Dad!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158'></a>158</span> +</p> +<p> +“I’ll have you approve the reason before I send +it West—how will that do?” +</p> +<p> +“I think you will do well. Because I may be +able to make a suggestion—knowing my father as +I do.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Latimer laughed and patted Polly on the +head. “Well, now that that is settled, let us talk +about Jim and Ken. You know, do you not, that +we expect them home in a few days?” +</p> +<p> +“I didn’t know, but I took for granted that they +would soon be home for the Holidays. Although +it seems like yesterday that they were home for +Thanksgiving Week.” +</p> +<p> +“Not to Jim’s mother and me. We miss him +very much, as he always was such a lively boy at +home.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m afraid we won’t see much of him this time. +He never even called us on the ’phone when he +came from New Haven to see Ruth Ashby, two +weeks ago Sunday,” said Polly, never dreaming +that his father was ignorant of the visit. +</p> +<p> +“He didn’t! Then Ken should have called +on you. He did not come to see a girl, too, did +he?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Ken never knew Jim was coming—so +Ruth told us. Jim telephoned her early Sunday +morning and found she would be home, so he ran +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159'></a>159</span> +in Town on the noon train and stayed until the +nine o’clock.” +</p> +<p> +“I’ll see that Jim does not go back on his first +loves quite so suddenly,” laughed Mr. Latimer, +thinking of the teasing he would give Jim. +</p> +<p> +“But we are not ‘loves’ at all—Nolla and I are +only good pals for the boys,” corrected Polly, +anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“Whatever you call it, Jim ought to be well +advised on such matters, as long as legal advice +costs him nothing.” +</p> +<p> +Polly failed to follow Mr. Latimer, and he immediately +changed the subject. “Now that you +are here and it is lunch-hour, why not come with +me. I promised to take you to the Café Savarin +or the Lawyer’s Club, some day, and this is the +day.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it would be lovely, but I just couldn’t leave +Nolla out of the treat, you know!” exclaimed +Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“If Nolla is at home, we will have her down in +twenty minutes. We’ll wait for her, and meanwhile +I’ll dictate a letter to your father for you +to O.K.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor was moping around the house, wondering +where Polly could be, when the telephone rang +and she was invited to join her friends at luncheon. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160'></a>160</span> +So in less than half-an-hour the trio were having a +merry time in the sumptuous private restaurant +on lower Broadway. +</p> +<p> +The letter that Polly approved, reached Sam +Brewster, and he showed it to his wife. “Ah have +been thinking, dear, that we-all might surprise +Polly by dropping in on her just about Christmas +time, eh?” +</p> +<p> +“Rather than let her come West and lose all +that time from classes, I should say ‘yes,’ Sam.” +</p> +<p> +“We really have nothing to tie us down at the +ranch for a few weeks, unless the snow buries us +for the winter.” +</p> +<p> +“Sary would be in her glory could she keep +house alone with Jeb for a time. Ever since they +returned from their honeymoon in Denver, she +has been sighing to run the house,” said Mrs. +Brewster, “feeding the fire” carefully. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s go! By the Great Horned Spoon, I feel +like taking a vacation to some other part of the +world—so New York will do!” +</p> +<p> +Then it was quickly decided that they would +start on Monday, and this being Friday, there was +no time to lose. +</p> +<p> +Sary and Jeb accepted the amazing news with +smiles and exchange of knowing looks. But they +were relieved when Mrs. Brewster herself suggested +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161'></a>161</span> +to Sary: “Have all the good times you +want, Sary, while we are gone. Invite your +friends, and neighbors, if they can get through the +drifts, and have apple-parties, corn-poppers, Virginia +Reels, and anything on earth you like!” +</p> +<p> +“Would you-all keer if we-all ast as much as +twenty to a time?” asked Sary, fearfully. +</p> +<p> +“Ask forty, if you like—and if you can find +them,” laughed Mrs. Brewster, recklessly. +</p> +<p> +“Only see to it that they leave the roof, Sary,” +ha-hawed Sam Brewster. “And that the sky-larkin’ +is all over when we return.” +</p> +<p> +Sary nodded understandingly. She had instantly +planned how to create envy in the souls of +her old friends at Yellow Jacket Pass, by asking +them all to her parties. +</p> +<p> +The Brewsters sent John a wire to say that they +would spend a few hours in Chicago, and would +like him to keep that time open. But when they +reached Chicago, John was standing on the platform +holding a suit-case in his hand. Tom Latimer +and Paul Stewart stood beside him. +</p> +<p> +John explained: “Paul and Tom are going, +too. Some good fairy sent us round-trip tickets, +but we don’t know who it was. Not a line came +with the tickets. So here we are—ready to help +in the surprise.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162'></a>162</span> +</p> +<p> +John then introduced Paul, and Mrs. Brewster +took his hand as she looked into his face. “You +are the image of our Anne, Paul; I would have +known you anywhere.” +</p> +<p> +“That he is,” added Sam Brewster, shaking +Paul’s hand heartily. So the party of five continued +on the journey, smiling as they pictured the +glad surprise to be given the family at the Studio. +Little did they dream that the Studio family were +busy preparing for a gladsome Christmas for them +all. For Mr. Latimer had told them about the +telegram from Pebbly Pit, and that he had heard +from Tom that he and John and Paul were going +to join the party coming East. But he did not say +that he, incognito, had mailed the tickets. +</p> +<p> +The Twentieth Century had a long line of Pullmans +to take to New York that trip, and it was +small wonder that passengers having berths in the +last coach, should fail to meet anyone traveling +in the first one. So it was with speechless amazement, +that the Brewsters met the Maynards at +Grand Central Station when both parties were +waiting to get taxi-cabs. +</p> +<p> +“Well, well, Ah believe it’s Mr. Maynard!” +exclaimed Sam Brewster, in his deep western +thunder. +</p> +<p> +“Brewster? so it is! Indeed I am glad to see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163'></a>163</span> +you here. Come to cheer up the little girl, eh?” +and Eleanor’s father grasped the ranchman’s big +hands. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brewster and her two young male companions +(Tom had gone to telephone) were now +introduced to Barbara and Mrs. Maynard. The +latter had never met the Brewster family, and +Barbara, thinking it wiser to assume indifference, +smiled coldly. +</p> +<p> +“We’re stopping at the Park Hotel, Brewster—what +about you folks? Might as well go where +we do,” suggested Mr. Maynard. +</p> +<p> +“I wired there for accommodations; Polly mentioned +it in several of her letters as being quite +near the Studio.” +</p> +<p> +“Fine! Then we will go right along. Here +Taxi! eight of us and baggage.” +</p> +<p> +“You mean seven, Mr. Maynard?” ventured +John, politely. +</p> +<p> +“No—didn’t you know Pete was here with us? +He came on another coach with some chums who +were coming East.” +</p> +<p> +“I haven’t seen much of Pete, this term. I’ve +been cramming every moment, so as to finish and +be ready to help in the mine, you see,” explained +John, hesitatingly. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard saw the expression and said nothing, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164'></a>164</span> +he determined to find out why Pete had +not seen much of Paul and John and Tom, that +term. Three young men who could be of great +advantage to a wild young student should be cultivated, +he thought. +</p> +<p> +When Sam Brewster did anything, he never did +it by halves; consequently when he wired the Park +Hotel for rooms, the day he left Denver, he engaged +a whole suite. No better accommodations +than he had, were to be found in the building, and +the Maynards had to accept second-best. +</p> +<p> +When Mr. Maynard found the ranchman had +the very finest the hotel afforded, he chuckled delightedly +to himself, for he had silently watched +the manner in which Barbara received the greetings +of the people who were so kind to her that +Summer. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Maynard was furious with her husband. +“My dear! what possessed you to come to this +horrid place. Don’t you know that Bob’s position +must be catered to? Even the best hotels here are +rather too ordinary. She should be stopping at +the newest and most exclusive one uptown.” +</p> +<p> +“When she marries that little numb-skull you’ve +tagged to her skirts, she can stop where she likes. +But her Dad is running this show. I’m here to +visit Nolla, and I stop where I can call and see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165'></a>165</span> +her, or she can run in to see us, without wasting +time traveling on the streets.” +</p> +<p> +“You always did spoil Nolla—while poor Bob +has to take third place in your affections,” complained +Mrs. Maynard. +</p> +<p> +“Bob’s mother makes up for any lack in me. +That’s why I have to give double love to Nolla +and Pete—Bob has <em>all</em> of yours.” +</p> +<p> +The usual ending to similar scenes might have +resulted, had not Mr. Maynard gone out to hurry +over to the Studio. But his wife and Barbara +sulkily unpacked their trunks and made very fine +toilets before they thought of calling at the Studio. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard rang at the front door of the +Studio, but he had to wait a few moments before +the door opened. From within, merry laughter +and joyous shouting could be heard. Then in +another moment, Eleanor was in her father’s arms +and was dragging him into the happy circle. +</p> +<p> +The Brewsters, and Paul and Pete were already +there, so that the newcomer’s appearance added +another reason for Polly and Eleanor’s happiness. +</p> +<p> +“I haven’t enough china to go around for such +a family!” Mrs. Stewart said plaintively; as she +came into the room with her arms dusted with +flour. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166'></a>166</span> +</p> +<p> +“And only half of us here, too!” laughed Mr. +Maynard. +</p> +<p> +“What—more on the way?” exclaimed Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla’s mother and Bob will be, shortly.” +</p> +<p> +“Mother—and Bob!” cried Eleanor, eagerly, +happy that her mother and sister cared enough +for her to come and visit her. +</p> +<p> +“Now that adds to all my troubles,” Mrs. +Stewart declared as she dropped into a nearby +chair. +</p> +<p> +“But why—the more the merrier,” laughed +Mrs. Brewster. +</p> +<p> +“Why—because there are only seven straight +chairs in this stable. All the others are great +cushiony things that won’t do in a small dining-room +such as ours.” +</p> +<p> +“Motherkins!” said Paul, laughingly picking +his mother up and seating her upon his strong +knees, “Did her think we-all would permit her to +cook a great supper for such a mob?” +</p> +<p> +“Of course—I like it, dear, but I am staggered +at the limitations—china and chairs.” +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Stewart, we are not going to eat a crumb +in this house during the Holidays, unless it be a +theatre supper or afternoon tea! That is all settled +beforehand. Run upstairs and put on your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167'></a>167</span> +evening dress. We propose making a party of it +this first night,” called Mr. Maynard, trying to +make himself heard above the general din. +</p> +<p> +“Is it your party, Dad?” asked Eleanor, gayly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and to please Bob it is to be at the Ritz. +To-morrow it will be Brewster’s turn, and that’s +up to him to say where we go.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Daddy—I know a place!” exclaimed +Polly, eagerly. “Eleanor and I have never been, +but we’ve heard lots about it and this is the chance. +We’ll all go down to Chinatown, to-morrow!” +</p> +<p> +A wild chorus of laughter greeted this proposal, +and Polly looked surprised. To make matters +worse, she added explanatorily: “Why, the girls +say chop-suey is great! And at Christmas time +the Chinks’ stores are beautiful! The lovely +things one can buy then are the best that are imported +from the Orient.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll do Chinatown, thoroughly, Poll, but it +may not be to-morrow night,” promised John, who +had hitherto been completely engaged with Anne’s +whispers and looks. +</p> +<p> +Thereafter followed delight upon delight, each +day filled with new plans and exciting fulfillments. +Ken and his parents, the four Latimers, the Ashbys, +Mr. Fabian, and even Mr. Dalken, were included +in the gay whirl of these pleasure-seekers. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168'></a>168</span> +Mrs. Maynard and Barbara actually enjoyed the +wholesome fun and almost forgot to be affected +or snobbish. To associate intimately with Mr. +Dalken, whose social standing was well-known in +Chicago, as well as in other large cities, was excuse +enough to accept all the other friends. But +added to that pleasure, the friendship and evident +intimacy the Ashbys and Latimers entertained +for Polly and Eleanor, made Mrs. Maynard feel +there might be hope for Nolla in the future. +</p> +<p> +Christmas fell on the Thursday after the Westerners +had arrived in New York; and considering +all the fun and gadding that had been indulged +in, on the days preceding the twenty-fifth, that day +passed quietly for all. Each family enjoyed its +own gathering and gifts, and all assembled at the +Ashbys in the evening, to enjoy music and dancing, +and everyone declared it had been a fine +day! +</p> +<p> +Friday started anew the excitement of planning +and enjoying whatever came in the way of the +party. But Saturday night had been set aside for +Mr. Dalken’s Christmas party. Elizabeth was invited +to bring her friends, and everyone in Polly’s +and Eleanor’s friendship ring were included. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken lived in modest but very large +rooms of a bachelor apartment house, downtown, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169'></a>169</span> +and here he had an enormous tree fixed in the +center of the living-room. No one was allowed +to see that room until all had assembled, but when +the doors were opened, there were “ahs” and +“ohs” from everyone. +</p> +<p> +The tree was so beautifully trimmed that it +seemed a pity that it should ever be dismantled. +But soon, the attractive white packages tied with +red ribbons, filled the guests with curiosity; and +once Eleanor had peeped at the name written on +one box, there was no peace but her host must +distribute the gifts. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken never spared time or money when +he did anything for his friends, and his Christmas +Party was to be one all would remember. The +gifts were carefully selected for each individual +and those for the four girls—Elizabeth, Ruth +Ashby, Polly and Eleanor, were exquisite and +costly. Elizabeth had craved a ring. She had it. +Ruth, Polly, and Eleanor each had a long barpin +of platinum daintily jewelled. +</p> +<p> +With her usual impetuosity, Eleanor suddenly +sprang up and hugged Mr. Dalken gratefully for +her gift. Polly smiled and shyly shook hands, +while Ruth said he must have read her thoughts, +for she had asked Dad for a pin and had been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170'></a>170</span> +refused. Now she had it, anyway, and from her +second-best Dad. Elizabeth was pleased, too, but +merely murmured “Thanks, Papa.” +</p> +<p> +“How do you like the jewels in the pins, girls?” +asked Mr. Latimer, quizzically, as no one had +mentioned the gems. +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Polly looked up at him. She caught +the twinkle in his eyes, and instantly wheeled to +look at the other men. Each one was smiling as +if there was a fine secret here. +</p> +<p> +“I just know these are Rainbow Cliff jewels!” +exclaimed Polly, joyously. +</p> +<p> +“No—are they?” demanded Eleanor, holding +the pin aloft to let the light flash over and through +them. +</p> +<p> +“Now I am deeply offended! I want the girls +to see that I got the very best and finest stones in +New York, and someone dares suggest that they +may be lava!” grumbled Mr. Dalken, trying to be +peevish. +</p> +<p> +“I can find out by taking mine to Tiffany’s, to-morrow,” +said Ruth, wisely. +</p> +<p> +“No, you won’t—Tiffany says his store is to be +closed all day to-morrow,” laughed Mr. Ashby. +</p> +<p> +“Why—some one in his family dead?” asked +Elizabeth. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171'></a>171</span> +</p> +<p> +“No—but it is Sunday, and he is a church +member.” +</p> +<p> +Every one laughed, as it had been forgotten the +Sabbath was so near at hand. Then Eleanor had +an idea. +</p> +<p> +“Why wait for Tiffany? Maybe the box will +give us a clue.” So she found her box and examined +it. Inside the silk-padded lid were the +words in gold ink: “Rainbow Cliffs’ Jewel Company.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, oh! It is our lava! Polly, now you can +carry a little of Pebbly Pit about with you!” cried +Eleanor, dancing about. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, it is a bit of Polly’s own dear heath. +These are the very first jewels the company perfected. +And as I am one of the corporation, I +wheedled the cutter into giving me his first output. +So, girls, you not only have pretty pins, but also +you have what may be considered a curiosity,” +explained Mr. Dalken. +</p> +<p> +“Are you one of our company?” Polly asked, +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, Mr. Ashby and I took stock soon after +the fire, because we said this was going to be a big +thing, some day.” +</p> +<p> +“I’m so <em>glad</em>, Mr. Dalken,” said Polly simply, +and in a voice that only he could hear. “I like +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172'></a>172</span> +you <em>so</em> much, and I’m happy to know that you and +I are members, together, in something.” +</p> +<p> +“Polly, dear, that is the very best Christmas +gift I have had in years,” murmured Mr. Dalken, +feelingly. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173'></a>173</span><a name='chXI' id='chXI'></a>CHAPTER XI—THE VALENTINES</h2> +<p> +With the passing of this gay Holiday Season, +the two girls began to feel that it would be a relief +to sit down once more and spend a quiet evening +at school. Two weeks of constant going and dissipation +had become tiresome. +</p> +<p> +The Westerners had gone home again; John, +Tom, Paul and Pete back to Chicago, and the two +boys, Ken and Jim, back at Yale; and then Mrs. +Wellington’s school reopened. Lessons went on +as if there never had been a vacation, and on +Wednesday evening of that same week, the art +school resumed classes. +</p> +<p> +This term was to be devoted to Applied Design +and its uses in architecture and decorations of interiors. +After having had such interesting work +as Egyptian ornament, art, and symbols, it seemed +rather dry to start out the New Year with drawing +straight lines an inch long. +</p> +<p> +Then to draw a dozen of these lines—next to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174'></a>174</span> +connect them and make a design of these dozen +simple lines. But the next lesson was still more +foolish. They were told to draw a square. Then +this large square of twenty inches each side was +divided into smaller squares. And in each of +these squares the pupils were told to draw whatever +they liked, but each square must repeat the +first one figure designed. +</p> +<p> +Thus the scholars found that they had a pattern +of the design. This began to look more +promising, and Eleanor wished she had paid more +attention to the squares so that the design would +have been neater. +</p> +<p> +The next lesson was on grouping certain designs. +The talk given by Mr. Fabian that evening +was on eye-measurement and judgment in lines. +</p> +<p> +“Unless one has a good eye for lines in anything, +it is a waste of time to study a profession +that is based fundamentally on a true judgment of +lines—whether of beauty, grace, or usefulness. +Unless one has a true sense of ‘line’ one can never +know where to build a window, a door, or a fire-place. +</p> +<p> +“Not only does ‘line’ govern the size of rooms +and halls, but the entire building is dependent upon +true lines. Also, this basis line governs furniture +and decorations in an interior. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175'></a>175</span> +</p> +<p> +“Can you picture a room where the portières +are all of different lengths?—because the decorator +had no sense of ‘line value?’ And what +would one say if the chairs had legs of various +lengths? Is not ‘line value’ to be used here, too? +It is found necessary, everywhere.” +</p> +<p> +So the lessons and lectures continued until the +girls took up the study of colors. This was very +interesting, and soon, both Polly and Eleanor +knew that yellow, blue and red were primary +colors and they could glibly tell you what that +meant, and how important a part the knowledge +played, in the progressive art of decorating. +</p> +<p> +When the demonstration of these lessons began +in the painting, the girls realized that they were +actually going to be able to carry home samples +of their work. From that time on, they showed +more zeal in doing everything as correctly and +perfectly as possible. And Mr. Fabian, at his +next monthly report to Mr. Ashby (which were +quite unknown to Polly and Eleanor) said: +“They’re deeply interested in the actual art and +not merely for the fun of some day going into +business.” +</p> +<p> +“I am glad to hear it. There is so much of this +idea of taking up interior decorating because it is +comparatively a new field, but so few really ought +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176'></a>176</span> +to be in it. It should be made a matter of diplomas +the same as other professions. Then the +restriction would soon clear away all the quacks +in the art. If these two girls but escape the snares +of matrimony until they are finished artists, I shall +be rejoiced to welcome them to our fold.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian nodded approvingly, and murmured: +“I have faith in them. I’m sure that +both these girls are sensible and not to be easily +influenced by a good looking beau.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Ashby smiled. “They’re much safer in +New York than if they lived in smaller towns. +Girls in this city haven’t time to find beaux or +think of husbands.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be so sure, Mr. Ashby,” retorted Mr. +Fabian. “If the girls are as pretty as my two +are, and clever and rich as well, they’d find it hard +to escape.” +</p> +<p> +“But you are speaking of society girls, while +these two students seldom give that empty life a +thought—I’m glad to say.” +</p> +<p> +Which conversation goes to show that more +than one adult was watching the experiment these +two girls were unconsciously making of their +school days, with intense interest and a desire to +aid. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor were not aware of all that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177'></a>177</span> +had been done to insure them perfect freedom and +liberty to continue their art classes. Had they +known the arguments Mr. Latimer had had with +Jim and Ken to keep those boys from usurping so +much of the time the girls had to devote to study! +Then Jim had blustered and boasted of all he +would do once he was at college: His father +wouldn’t know how many letters he would write, +nor the visits to the girls, of an evening! +</p> +<p> +And one reason Tom Latimer and John seldom +wrote to Polly and Eleanor, was because of Anne’s +suggestion—to leave the girls to plan their spare +time for their very own work, and not be made +to feel that they had letters to answer, all the time. +</p> +<p> +It was Tom who had begged Jim not to waste +his own, or the girls’ time, in writing silly letters +or in traveling back and forth from college to New +York. And Tom, wise big brother that he was, +took Jim into his confidence and explained how +anxious John and he were to have Polly climb to +the top of the ladder in her art. That she had to +make good in New York those first two years or +go back home and starve her artistic soul on a +lonesome ranch. +</p> +<p> +But Valentine’s Day was coming, and Jim felt +that on that day he would be privileged to not only +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178'></a>178</span> +write to the girls, but to send each one a fine valentine, +describing his sentiments. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor could not forget Valentine’s +Day was at hand, for every shop-window they +passed invited sentimental people to step in and +see the love cards. +</p> +<p> +“I’d like to send a perfect dear to Mr. Dalken, +Nolla,” said Polly, reading the verse on a card. +</p> +<p> +“To Mr. Dalken! Why, Poll, he is an old +married man!” +</p> +<p> +“But what of that! Can’t I send him a card +that states how much I like him?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, ye-es—I suppose so; but valentines are +really meant for lovers, you see.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s nothing of the kind, Nolla. Dear old St. +Valentine never meant all his notes for lovers; but +for everyone he <em>loved!</em> and that is very different, +I think.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, send yours to anyone you like, but I am +going to buy one for Jim,” said Eleanor, searching +over the piles of cards on the tray, but not +finding what she sought. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Nolla,” laughed Polly, teasingly. “Are +you selecting Jim for your first love?” +</p> +<p> +“First love! I should say double no! I am +hunting for a <em>comic</em> one for him—just because he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179'></a>179</span> +is so sentimental and sits with moony eyes when he +is near any pretty girl. I thought I would die +with laughter that night he sat and gazed with +soulful eyes at Ruth.” +</p> +<p> +Finally the girls found several very funny cards +which had sarcastic lines under the pictures. These +they were going to mail to Jim and Ken. Then +Eleanor had an idea. +</p> +<p> +“I just guess I’ll mail one each to John, Tom, +Pete and Paul, too. If I dared, I’d get Pete to +re-mail one to Bob so she wouldn’t know who sent +it. Being postmarked ‘Chicago’ she’d break her +head trying to think who sent it to her.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that will be fun, Nolla. Have them remailed +so the boys won’t know we sent them. Let’s +do that with all of ours.” +</p> +<p> +The need of secrecy, and the trouble of selecting +appropriate lines for each of their friends, +took time. But Eleanor wired her father to keep +the secret and do the mailing for them, and he +wired back his consent. So the valentines meant +for the Chicago friends went to Mr. Maynard, +and duly reached each one as had been intended. +</p> +<p> +And those for Jim and Ken were handed to a +porter on the train that ran to New Haven, with a +liberal tip if he would drop them in a letter-box +when he jumped from the train. His wide grin +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180'></a>180</span> +showed he was ready to abet the pranks such generous +pretty young misses planned to tease their +beaux. +</p> +<p> +Elizabeth Dalken had taken a violent fancy to +Jim Latimer when she met him at the different +Christmas parties, and Valentine’s Day being an +opportunity for love-lorn misses and youths, she +bought a very expensive Valentine, with sentiment +as soft as down, and suggestive of heart-aches and +sighs and what-not. +</p> +<p> +But Elizabeth had no independence, whatever, +and once she had the Valentine boxed and ready +to post, she wished she knew someone who would +address it. She feared to have her own cramped +writing seen on it. +</p> +<p> +In Mrs. Wellington’s school was a clever girl +who could imitate hand-writing to perfection, and +Elizabeth presented her with a box of bon-bons a +few days before Valentine’s Day. Then the following +day she asked a favor. Would Myrtle address +a box for her? +</p> +<p> +Myrtle comprehended, but the candies had been +delicious so she laughed: “Got a valentine to +send?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but it is a joke. I want the receiver to +believe Eleanor Maynard sent it. Can you imitate +her writing?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181'></a>181</span> +</p> +<p> +“Easy as pie. Get me her exercise from this +noon’s class.” +</p> +<p> +And in short order the box was addressed in +Eleanor’s hand-writing. Elizabeth mailed it, and +the day following the 14th, Jim mailed, what he +considered, a lover’s work of art—such ardent +lines and such sentiment seldom entered his +thoughts, but the mushy words of the valentine +excused his letter. +</p> +<p> +“W-e-ll—Jim’s gone clean mad!” gasped +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Is the thick letter from him?” asked Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but read it, Poll, and tell me what ails +him.” +</p> +<p> +Polly read, but not without giggles and many a +lifted eyebrow when she came to the extra fine +phrases of love-making. +</p> +<p> +“Nolla, he sure is daffy. Can you see through +it?” +</p> +<p> +“Not at all. I expected a comic from him—not +this.” +</p> +<p> +“Nolla, do you think anyone we know would +send him a soft valentine and pretend it came from +you?” +</p> +<p> +“Maybe—for a joke! Now who would do it?” +</p> +<p> +They asked Anne, and showed her the letter. +She laughed with them, but when they were not +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182'></a>182</span> +present, she sat down and wrote to Jim—a nice +sisterly letter cuttingly blunt that told him that she +had her hands full with school and girls, and +house, so that any extra care would drive her insane. +Letters such as the one that came to Nolla, +were the worst danger she had to ward off from +the girls. +</p> +<p> +By the last mail on the thirteenth and during the +day of the fourteenth other valentines came for +Polly and Eleanor; some of real merit as tokens +of friendship; some of beauty; and many with a +little line of love. But Polly received no vague or +sentimental one during Valentine’s day. +</p> +<p> +That evening, however, the bell rang, and Mrs. +Stewart asked who was there. The girls were +already upstairs. +</p> +<p> +“Messenger with a box.” +</p> +<p> +“Mother—wait till I get there!” called Anne, +anxiously. +</p> +<p> +In another moment, Anne, in a negligée, ran +downstairs and opened the street-door which +opened into a vestibule. +</p> +<p> +A large long box was handed in and Anne +signed the book. It was addressed to “Miss Polly +Brewster, Studio, 1003 East Thirtieth Street, New +York.” +</p> +<p> +“Polly, here’s a great box of flowers from someone,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183'></a>183</span> +Anne called, standing at the foot of the +stairs. +</p> +<p> +“For me?” +</p> +<p> +“Your name is on the tag,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +Instantly, Polly and Eleanor scrambled downstairs +and Polly tremblingly tried to untie the +string about the box. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me—it won’t even break!” said she, trying +to tear the cord by pulling at it. +</p> +<p> +“Here—take the knife!” cried Eleanor, having +dashed to the dining-room to catch up a silver +knife, and returning with it. +</p> +<p> +The string was cut, the lid taken off, and several +wrappers of oiled paper removed. Then, +there, upon a bed of lace-paper rested a dozen of +magnificent American Beauties, with stems more +than a yard long. And to the cluster, about the +middle of the stems, was attached a fine golden +cord holding a papier maché heart. The heart +had a golden arrow half-buried in its plump center. +</p> +<p> +“What wonderful roses!” breathed Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t the heart cute!” giggled Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“No card, or sign, to say where they came +from?” asked Anne, picking the heart up carefully. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, there’s another heart—see! On the point +of the arrow at the back,” cried Eleanor. And +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184'></a>184</span> +there was another heart fastened to the first one +by means of the sharp arrow. +</p> +<p> +The girls sought carefully for some clue of the +sender, but the sweet perfume wafted from the +roses was all that rewarded their search. +</p> +<p> +“Whoever it was, he is a dear!” said Polly, +fondly touching the waxen stems. +</p> +<p> +“And we’ll try to keep them as long as possible +so, whoever it was, will see that we appreciate the +flowers,” said Anne, going for water. +</p> +<p> +“At last I have found a use for that tall vase I +bought that first week of auctions,” laughed Eleanor, +taking the glass from under the window-seat. +</p> +<p> +Scarcely were the roses arranged to satisfy the +admiring group, when the bell rang again. Eleanor +being nearest the door, ran out to the small +vestibule and peeped through the window in the +street-door. +</p> +<p> +“Well, of all things! Another messenger. +Maybe he has a valentine for me.” +</p> +<p> +The door was opened, Eleanor said “yes” to his +query if Mrs. Stewart lived there, and having +signed the book, hurried in with a tier of boxes. +There were four in all. +</p> +<p> +“Miss Anne Stewart the first on top,” read +Polly. +</p> +<p> +The second was for Mrs. Stewart, and the third +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185'></a>185</span> +for Polly, the last being Eleanor’s. Each box contained +a beautiful spray of cut flowers but no card. +Not even a suggestion of the sender. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it beats all. Why couldn’t our admirers +have sent our flowers in the morning,” laughed +Anne. +</p> +<p> +Again the bell pealed. “It surely can’t be more +flowers!” laughed Polly, running to the door. But +it was. A card on the outside read: “Say it with +Flowers,” to Miss Anne Stewart. +</p> +<p> +By this time everyone was laughing and trying +to guess who could have sent the blossoms. And +had the bell sounded again, no one would have +been surprised. But it didn’t, and after guessing +of all impossible persons who might be the senders +of the flower-valentines, Anne ventured: +“Someone may have telegraphed to New York +this morning, you know, to send us these flowers, +at once. I’ve heard said, the florists were so +rushed to-day with valentine orders that they +couldn’t secure enough flowers from the wholesale +shops.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s about it!” declared Eleanor. “John +sent you this last box, and maybe Daddy sent us +each the smaller boxes. But <em>who</em> could have sent +Polly a hundred dollars’ worth of American Beauties?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186'></a>186</span> +</p> +<p> +Finally they went to bed with the great question +still unsolved; and Polly often wondered, thereafter, +if Mr. Dalken could have sent her those +roses? Had she guessed the truth, would she have +been content to go on so serenely with her studies +of interior decorating? +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187'></a>187</span><a name='chXII' id='chXII'></a>CHAPTER XII—MR. FABIAN PLOTS FOR FACTS</h2> +<p> +The roses kept for more than two weeks, filling +the Studio rooms with fragrance, but keeping +their secret as to who had sent them to Polly. She +had gone to everyone she knew and tried to find +out who had given them to her. Then she beguiled +Mr. Ashby into finding out if Mr. Dalken +was the guilty one. And when he was found innocent, +she bribed Mr. Dalken to find out if the +Latimers or the Evans sent them—but she could +not see why anyone should spend so much money +on her, and try to hide the fact. +</p> +<p> +When Mr. Fabian was satisfied that it was not +one of their old friends who had sent the roses, +he thought of a way to find out. The box had had +the name on its cover, of one of Fifth avenue’s +most fashionable florists, so he went there and +tried to learn what he wanted to know, by asking +the proprietor. +</p> +<p> +But the man smiled and shook his head. “We +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188'></a>188</span> +are never allowed to divulge state secrets, Mr. +Fabian.” +</p> +<p> +“Not even when that secret concerns a protegée +of mine? I do not wish to use the knowledge, but +merely to relieve my mind.” +</p> +<p> +“If I were to tell you, Mr. Fabian, I should +have to also tell the six other individuals who +begged me to tell them confidentially who ordered +the roses.” +</p> +<p> +“Six others! Have others been here to ask +this same question?” asked Mr. Fabian, amazed. +</p> +<p> +The florist laughed. “Yes, that pretty miss +seems to be very popular. Who is she, anyway?” +</p> +<p> +“A little girl that attends my art class, and I +am bound to keep her mind free from nonsense +until her education is finished.” +</p> +<p> +“Can you keep a secret—on your oath?” asked +the florist. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, yes!” eagerly agreed Mr. Fabian, thinking +he was now going to hear who sent the roses. +</p> +<p> +“Well, then, this much I may tell you—just +to ease your fears: the individual who sent those +roses is as anxious as you can be, to keep the girl’s +heart and mind free from nonsense and to allow +her to complete her art education without thoughts +of beaux.” +</p> +<p> +“Is that all you’ve got to say?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189'></a>189</span> +</p> +<p> +“My goodness, don’t you appreciate that much! +You only wanted to know something to ease your +mind, and now I have told you.” +</p> +<p> +“How do <em>you</em> know what the gentleman thinks +or wants?” +</p> +<p> +“I was told so by the one who ordered the roses. +But I did not tell you it was a gentleman.” +</p> +<p> +This was still more disconcerting to Mr. Fabian, +but he never told a soul that he had visited +the florist. He did wonder, however, if the man +had given the others the same confidence he had +imparted confidentially to him. +</p> +<p> +Polly, the cause of all this secret concern of her +friends, had forgotten all about the valentine, and +was devoting her entire time and attention to the +absorbing lessons at art school. +</p> +<p> +Easter Week came early, and the term beginning +immediately after the Easter Holidays, would +start a course on mural decorations, and the study +of tapestries. So interesting had their night-classes +become, that Polly and Eleanor neglected +their studies at day-school. Anne noticed their +daily marks and worried over it. At last she consulted +with Mr. Fabian. +</p> +<p> +“You must realize, Mr. Fabian, that the girls +are still young. Even if they were prepared to +enter the profession they are proposing to follow +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190'></a>190</span> +they would be too young in years to make a success +of it. People are not apt to turn over contracts +for art or decorating, to girls under twenty. +Therefore I advise you to make them drop their +night school until after they have caught up in +their day classes.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian was secretly pleased at the news +that his two pet scholars preferred <em>his</em> teachings +to the dry high-school lessons. But he dared not +express his satisfaction to Anne. +</p> +<p> +“All you say is true, but there is no need for my +girls to give up their art class. The night school +closes for a two weeks’ holiday at Easter, and +then, as warm weather comes on apace, I find my +pupils begin to lose zeal in their constant attendance +at class. You will see that Polly and Eleanor +will turn more to their day studies, then. But I +would not advise you to cut off their pursuit in art +work, now. It will only create deeper zest for it, +and turn their thoughts completely from day-studies.” +</p> +<p> +Anne replied that this was logical, and so the +girls never knew that they had been standing upon +the danger-line of having to suspend their favorite +studies. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian was roused to a more temperate art +“diet” for the two girls, thereafter. And Polly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191'></a>191</span> +and Eleanor found, as Spring advanced, that lessons +in night school were simpler and not quite so +absorbing to their time, as those of the recent +weeks had been. +</p> +<p> +In the mural decoration study that began with +the new Spring term, the pupils found that, beginning +with the order of antiquity, Egyptian first, +and then Greek, Roman, Medieval, Moresque and +Persian styles—much of their work done in the +other classes now proved useful. In fact, the historical +studies of these races of people and their +periods of time, proved valuable in review, for +the further perfection of mural art. +</p> +<p> +So when they were given a design to do in +“wave ornament” it was at once recognised as +Egyptian art. Or should a wall decoration be required +where geometrical forms were the principle, +the pupils remembered the religion of the Arabs +and Moors which restricted them to the use of +natural forms which would not conflict with their +worship. +</p> +<p> +Thus Polly and Eleanor began to understand +how important their previous lessons had been, and +how necessary it was for every earnest student of +art to be present at each class, that no connecting +link in instruction might be dropped and lost. +</p> +<p> +As the weeks went by, and the end of the term +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192'></a>192</span> +drew near, the night classes thinned out perceptibly, +many of the less enthusiastic pupils preferring +outdoor sports to close application to art +pursuits. But Polly and Eleanor found their +pleasure in hearing all Mr. Fabian had to say to +them on various subjects. +</p> +<p> +Perhaps the girls might not have been so keen +for school during the warm evenings, had not Mr. +Fabian’s knowledge and fascinating descriptions +of anything pertaining to his profession, been so +freely given them at all times. He continued to +discover exhibits, lectures, and other educational +pastimes, to which he conducted his favorite pupils, +so that there was no dearth of material to aid and +demonstrate his teachings. +</p> +<p> +As June came in, Polly found New York not +nearly as cool and pleasant an abode as Pebbly Pit +with its altitude upon the crests of the Rockies. +And she longed for a breath of the mountain air +that would renew jaded senses. Both Eleanor and +Polly began to show the strain of the close application +to study that they had had since October, so +Anne was thankful that the schools would soon +close for the Summer. +</p> +<p> +Then the last class in Cooper Union ended, and +Mr. Fabian escorted his girls to their home. Already, +they were planning for the coming year of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193'></a>193</span> +work, but their instructor smiled and interrupted. +</p> +<p> +“I have refused an offer to continue my classes +in the school, so I will not be there next year.” +</p> +<p> +“What!” gasped Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Not teach us!” cried Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Not teach at Cooper—no. I feel that I am +not strong enough to keep up such arduous labors; +and so many there do not seem to appreciate what +I am sacrificing for them. I find there are some +people who think that, because a thing is free, it +is not as valuable as if they had to pay for it. You +can see, for yourselves, how many scholars +dropped out of the classes when other diversions +offered themselves. They join an art class and +attend it when nothing else can be had. They +take my thought and time, and when they weary +of the routine, they fail to appear. It is very disheartening. +But it is so every year, and I am tired +of trying to keep up the interest of such lazy +leeches.” +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor heard their dear professor’s +words in sorry silence. What would night school +be without him? +</p> +<p> +“But I have planned a far different school beginning +with next October. I have chosen the +faithful few who really mean business, and to these +I shall offer my services for a small return. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194'></a>194</span> +feel sure that this will mean greater benefit to +individuals in a small class, as I can devote much +more time to each student and give better advice +wherever it is needed. I have thought of seven +scholars for my little school.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Fabian—I do hope Polly and I are +among them!” exclaimed Eleanor, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian smiled. “Perhaps it was because +of Polly and you that I thought of this idea. You +two girls really should have personal instruction, +instead of having to waste hours in a general class +waiting for delinquents to catch up with you. +</p> +<p> +“That has always been the weak spot in any +large class; there are those who forge ahead +eagerly, and the lazy ones who miss a class every +few nights, causing the whole body to delay and +wait while they work to catch up on what they +have missed. +</p> +<p> +“When the few ambitious workers can be +grouped together and not hampered by the +leeches, one can readily see how much better it +is for all concerned. This is what I propose +doing.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it will be splendid! and I am glad, for one, +to be able to look forward to such teachings. To +know that we can ask all the questions freely, and +not have to wait to have the easiest lesson explained +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195'></a>195</span> +to the thick-headed, will be a great relief,” +said Polly, gratefully. +</p> +<p> +At the door of the Studio, Mr. Fabian said +good-by. “I am planning to sail for Europe very +soon, my dears, and I am looking forward to a +good time with my little family. We intend visiting +all the famous places of interest to an artist, +and when I return in the Fall, I will be able to tell +you about the great cathedrals, the wonderful collections +of antiques, and other sights.” +</p> +<p> +“As for Polly and me—we won’t be able to give +you any such tales, as we are going to spend our +vacation at Pebbly Pit, again. But we will bring +back plenty of health and renewed zeal,” laughed +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Ah! That is what I need of you now, children. +See that you fill out the hollows in your +cheeks, and gather ample strength and health for +another strenuous year in New York. I plan to +put both of you on the firing-line next school-year.” +</p> +<p> +“We’ll not fail you, Mr. Fabian,” promised +Polly, taking his hand a second time and patting +it fondly. +</p> +<p> +“Then I’ll not fail <em>you</em>, dear students!” responded +Mr. Fabian, stooping and kissing each +girl affectionately on the forehead, then taking his +leave. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196'></a>196</span> +</p> +<p> +A few days after this the Studio was swathed +in dust-covers, the windows locked and shuttered, +the burglar alarm attached, and at last the front +door was closed by a representative from the insurance +company. The four tenants were on their +way to Grand Central where Jim Latimer and +Kenneth Evans were to meet them. They then +were going to take the Twentieth Century Limited +to Chicago. +</p> +<p> +Jim and Ken had been engaged by Carew, to +join his camp of surveyors in the mountains for +this second season’s work; and, as Polly and her +friends were to spend the summer vacation at +Pebbly Pit, it was quite natural that all six should +journey westward, together. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken and the Ashbys came to see the +friends off, and as the parent Latimers and Evans +were with their boys to the last, there was a large +merry party to accompany the travelers to the +Pullman. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t be surprised to see me bring the Ashbys +to Pebbly Pit in my touring car, some fine day, +soon,” announced Mr. Dalken. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that would be lovely!” cried Polly, +eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“And leave Ruth with us for the Summer?” +added Eleanor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197'></a>197</span> +</p> +<p> +“Yes, yes, Daddy—I’d love to spend my vacation +with Polly and Eleanor at the ranch!” exclaimed +Ruth Ashby. +</p> +<p> +“Where would you put us all—even if we did +come?” asked Mrs. Ashby, who had heard of the +limitations of the ranch-house. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you forget! John writes that we will be +surprised to find the marvelous work that has gone +on at the Cliffs. Not only is the great road down +through the Devil’s Causeway completed for heavy +traffic, but rows and rows of buildings back of the +Imps are ready for occupancy, the moment the +machinery is set up for work on the lava. If the +miners have not yet taken possession of the barracks +we could invite loads of people to visit the +ranch.” +</p> +<p> +Polly spoke eagerly, and her eyes shone as she +beheld her friends enjoying the Brewster hospitality. +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed at her anxiety to have them +visit her, and Mr. Dalken promised: “I’ll do my +best to bring my friends, Polly.” +</p> +<p> +A quizzical look in his eyes suddenly caused +Polly to remember the valentine she had sent +him. She smiled back at him, but as suddenly +another thought flashed into her mind. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Dalken, I’ve wanted to ask you for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198'></a>198</span> +the <em>longest</em> time! Now that it is ancient history, +you won’t mind confessing, will you?” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken shook his head as a concession to +her eager look. And Polly continued: “<em>Did</em> you +send me those American Beauties’ valentine?” +</p> +<p> +A roar greeted this question, as everyone of the +grown-ups had asked the same question of Mr. +Dalken months before. And Mr. Dalken not +only repudiated any knowledge of the valentine +but told how he had visited the florist and had not +been able to ascertain who the Cupid really was. +</p> +<p> +“Polly, I will confess, as they say that open confession +is good for the soul. I was guilty of sending +four boxes of flowers to the Studio on Valentine +Day, to four charming friends, but I showed +no partiality, I think, in the bouquets. I would +like to know, myself, who the Cupid was who sent +such gorgeous roses as you received.” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder! I’m sure it wasn’t Jim,” here Polly +looked searchingly at the young student, and he +shook his head laughingly. +</p> +<p> +“I couldn’t have, had I wanted to. My pocket +money went for that love-sonnet that was so +harshly condemned,” said he. +</p> +<p> +“And I’m sure Ken never dreamed of doing it. +Then there is Mr. Latimer and the doctor—they +are both innocent, I know, as they never think +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199'></a>199</span> +of anything other than the old patented jewel +cutter.” +</p> +<p> +As Polly explained thus in earnest tones, everyone +laughed at the two men so calmly criticised +for their absorption in patents. +</p> +<p> +“So I am inclined to believe it was my <em>own</em> +Daddy. He always did send me the cutest valentines +each year, and I received no card from him +this year—so that is who it was!” declared Polly. +</p> +<p> +“And the only kind of a Cupid to have, these +days, Polly,” approved Mr. Dalken. +</p> +<p> +But the happy circle standing on the platform +of the train-shed were now notified that the passengers +must get on as the train would leave in a +few moments. +</p> +<p> +Good-bys were said, hands shaken, kisses +wafted from the girls to the group remaining in +New York, and then the travelers were gone. +</p> +<p> +Scarcely had the train slowed up in the Chicago +Terminal before John and Tom Latimer were +on board, pushing a way through the Pullmans, in +search of familiar faces. +</p> +<p> +“There they are—there comes John!” cried +Polly, excitedly, jumping up and pointing to the +other end of the coach. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—!” sighed Anne, flushing joyously as her +glance rested upon her fiancé. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200'></a>200</span> +</p> +<p> +But John had no eyes for anyone but Anne. +Polly was left standing with hands out-stretched, +her whole soul quivering with anticipation of her +beloved brother’s greeting, and now he forgot +she was alive! Then Paul Stewart and Pete Maynard +ran in. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Stewart was embraced by Paul, and Pete +hugged his sister Eleanor. Tom Latimer stood +a pace apart, his features working desperately to +control his feelings as he saw John joyously scanning +Anne’s face, and Polly limply sitting down +in the parlor chair. Then he quickly went over +and greeted her. +</p> +<p> +“Polly, and you boys”—turning to Jim and Kenneth—“we +sure are happy to see you-all again. +My, what a change New York has made in you. +I see quite a wonderful young lady, where once I +remember my little ranch pal with pigtails.” +Tom tried to laugh merrily. +</p> +<p> +Kenneth suddenly launched into a silly conversation +to cheer Polly. But Polly never could dissimulate, +and she was too deeply hurt at her +brother’s neglect to pretend to be merry. John, +however, now turned to embrace and kiss his sister, +and evidently had had no thought of neglecting +her. +</p> +<p> +“Come, children, we must get out or we’ll be +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201'></a>201</span> +carried to the round-house,” suggested Jim Latimer, +taking up certain bags. +</p> +<p> +Once on the platform where Mr. Maynard welcomed +them, Tom said: “When do Ken and you +go on to Denver?” +</p> +<p> +“On the next train, leaving here at two. That +gives us an hour and a half with you.” +</p> +<p> +“Anyone want dinner, or did you eat on the +train?” now asked Paul Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“All dined, but now waiting for someone to +suggest a party for Ken and I, as we go on in a +little while,” said Jim. +</p> +<p> +“Here!” offered Mr. Maynard. “Pile into +taxis and we’ll be at the house in a jiffy. No place +like home when there’s no other place to go to.” +</p> +<p> +So, laughing, the entire party bundled itself into +cabs, John managing to get Anne and her luggage +to himself. Immediately, he signalled the driver +to start off. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard, Paul and Mrs. Stewart got in +another cab and Jim, Ken, and Eleanor in another. +That left Polly and Tom Latimer, with the remaining +bags, to get in the last taxi. It was all +done in such noisy confusion, that no one dreamed +how one clever manager had so manipulated matters +as to have Polly alone in the last cab. +</p> +<p> +“Well, Polly, I hear you are soaring in your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202'></a>202</span> +ambition. Mr. Fabian wrote me how interested +he was in Nolla and you.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, did the dear man write you? I didn’t +know he and you corresponded.” +</p> +<p> +“I took a great fancy to the idealist, and having +always loved art for itself, I told him I would +consider it a great pleasure if he would exchange +letters with me when he had the opportunity. He +has done better for me than I had any right to +expect. He writes the most interesting letters—just +as clever as his talks on art.” +</p> +<p> +Having found a willing listener in Tom, Polly +expanded on her private opinion of such a wonderful +teacher as Mr. Fabian was, and before the +taxi drew up in front of the Maynard’s brown-stone +mansion, Tom had the comforting assurance +that Polly had quite forgotten her brother +John’s unintentional neglect. +</p> +<p> +Jim and Ken enjoyed their hasty visit and then +took their departure to catch their train going +west. When Mrs. Maynard and Barbara dispensed +tea, the three young men, John, Tom and +Paul, had to enter into service for the hostess; but +they would greatly have preferred to enjoy their +time as each inclined—John alone with Anne in +the conservatory, Tom and Polly talking art, and +Paul making merry with Eleanor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203'></a>203</span> +</p> +<p> +Barbara, who a year ago would have resented +oblivion for herself, now smiled contentedly and +gazed upon a huge solitaire. +</p> +<p> +“Bob, shall we announce it?” whispered her +mother. +</p> +<p> +“No, they do not know Percival, and, moreover, +not one of these people appreciate his social +standing.” +</p> +<p> +So the young people now gathered about Mrs. +Maynard’s tea-table were deprived (so Bob +thought) of the greatest event of the past social +season—her engagement to one of the most aristocratic +and wealthiest eligibles on the market, Percival +Weston. +</p> +<p> +Barbara twirled her solitaire smilingly, nor +cared that her Percival was bald and diminutive, +past the prime in life, and not over-brilliant. Had +he not been the catch at Newport the previous +Summer? And had he not attached himself to +her as soon as she appeared in the Adirondack +Camp presided over by the famous society leader +of New York? +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204'></a>204</span><a name='chXIII' id='chXIII'></a>CHAPTER XIII—BACK AGAIN AT PEBBLY PIT</h2> +<p> +“Oh, Nolla! Isn’t this great after old New +York?” cried Polly, as they were all jostled in the +big ranch-wagon driven by Mr. Brewster, as it +rumbled over the trail to Pebbly Pit. +</p> +<p> +“We-all think it’s great, Poll; but wait till you +see what your going to New York did to the old +Pit! No one to blame for it but yourself,” +laughed her father. +</p> +<p> +“We heard there was a row of buildings down +behind the Imps, and that a fine roadway was constructed +through the Devil’s Causeway,” said +Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“But no one told you how John and Tom came +here as soon as college closed, and brought a railroad +man with them to see about building a spur +from Bear Forks to the valley at the foot of +Grizzly Slide. It’s twenty miles nearer Denver +than Oak Creek, so the company agreed to risk +the work if Pebbly Pit would guarantee a certain +amount of travel and freight over the road.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205'></a>205</span> +</p> +<p> +“Well—did you, Daddy?” asked Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Tom Latimer did. Agreed to put up bonds +for same.” +</p> +<p> +“Tom? Why Tom Latimer?” asked Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Tom is mighty ambitious, you know, and +seems as if he liked this section better than the +East. However, it is Tom we-all can thank for +that new railroad. When you-all come home next +year, you-all will be riding over your own tracks.” +Mr. Brewster chuckled. +</p> +<p> +“Is Tom going to join that crew of engineers +that John and he were with last year?” now asked +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“No, indeed! Tom and John will be right here +with us this summer. We-all need their help in +working out the problems of the mine and Rainbow +Cliffs,” responded Sam Brewster. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t suppose we’ll see a bit of John as long +as Anne and her mother remain in Denver, visiting +their old friends,” pouted Polly, jealously. +</p> +<p> +Her father glanced slyly at her, and smiled. He +felt sorry for his little girl who had always felt +that her brother John was her own personal property. +Now that someone claimed first love and +attention from him it was mighty hard for her, as +well as for Mrs. Brewster. +</p> +<p> +“Ah should wonder at John if he failed in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206'></a>206</span> +gallantry to his sweetheart,” was all Sam Brewster +said aloud. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Everyone makes me tired! Anyone’d +think Anne Stewart was a saint. She’s only a +girl the same as Nolla, or me. And no one is +found going mad over either one of <em>us</em>!” cried +Polly, pettishly. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor laughed. “Give us a few years and +then see!” +</p> +<p> +Polly curled her lip impatiently. “A few years +from now and I’ll be in Europe with dear old +Fabian, studying art. I won’t want attention from +anyone, then.” +</p> +<p> +“Seems to me,” ventured Mr. Brewster, gently, +“my little girl is hankering for homage or a beau—which +is it?” +</p> +<p> +Polly stared aghast. “Neither one! How dare +you say so.” +</p> +<p> +“You-all were speaking of attention.” +</p> +<p> +“But I was only thinking of <em>John</em>. He’ll have +Anne for a wife all his life long—after next year. +But he won’t have <em>me</em> after I finish school.” +</p> +<p> +In spite of the tearful tone, Mr. Brewster had +to laugh. “Don’t waste your time on John, Polly +girl. Let me make up for him and be your devoted +attendant. Ah’ll always be at your beck and +call!” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207'></a>207</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Dad! That reminds me!” exclaimed +Polly, turning square around to face her father, +and forgetting her recent misery over John. +“<em>How</em> did you ever manage about that rose valentine +you sent me?” +</p> +<p> +Sam Brewster let the reins dangle recklessly as +he, in turn, stared at his daughter. “What valentine?” +</p> +<p> +Polly winked roguishly and laughed. “You +can’t pull the wool over my eyes, Daddy. I’ve +spent a whole year in New York to some advantage, +you see. I have seen lots of such feigned +innocence as yours.” +</p> +<p> +“But honest, Poll, Ah don’t even know what +you-all are talking about; Ah got your sweet valentine, +and so did maw.” +</p> +<p> +Polly frowned at her father. “Didn’t you +wire to a florist in New York and order a dozen +great roses for my valentine? And tie the two +hearts pierced by a golden arrow, about the center +of the flower-stems?” +</p> +<p> +“Positively, this is the first word Ah’ve heard +of it!” declared Sam Brewster so emphatically, +that the girls believed him. +</p> +<p> +“Now, Polly, the hunt is narrowing down,” +laughed Eleanor. “We know it was no one in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208'></a>208</span> +New York, and it wasn’t Jim or Ken. Your +father says he didn’t do it, so it leaves only a few +more to ask.” +</p> +<p> +Suddenly Polly clasped her hands. Her face +was radiant. “Why, of course! How could I +forget? It was dear old John! He, too, always +remembered me on Valentine Day.” Then turning +to her father, and shaking a finger at him, she +added: “But you didn’t remember me, this year, +bad man.” +</p> +<p> +“Tell truth, Polly, there was so much to think +about and so much to do, over the buildings and +mines, that Ah clean forgot there ever was such +a day, until I got your card. Then I felt sorry.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, thank goodness, John remembered!” +sighed Polly. And Eleanor noticed that she +smiled again in forgiveness of her brother’s shortcomings. +</p> +<p> +When the wagon stopped at the porch of the +ranch-house, Eleanor laughed: “Just as we drove +up last year—but oh, how different this year!” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Brewster hurried out to welcome her dear +girls, and laughed at Eleanor’s remark. “Still +making Irish bulls, Nolla!” +</p> +<p> +They all laughed merrily, and then Sary rushed +from her kitchen, and clasped Polly to her ample +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209'></a>209</span> +bosom. Eleanor came in for her share of the +maid’s embrace before she had to hurry back to +the dinner. +</p> +<p> +“Ah’se cookin’ cabbige soup, Miss Nolla,” she +explained. +</p> +<p> +“Why, Sary, that first night we were here last +summer, you had ‘cabbidge’ soup, too!” +</p> +<p> +“We-all has to hev it once a week reg’ler now, +’cause Jeb loves it, an’ he is a foreman, you know.” +Sary’s pride in her spouse’s promotion was most +evident. +</p> +<p> +While Polly and her mother cozily sat together +on the porch and smiled happily to be in +each other’s company, once more, Eleanor walked +to the barns with Mr. Brewster. She had an object +in view, and she never delayed in finding out +what she wanted to know, should the opportunity +come and offer itself to her. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Brewster, do tell me honestly—<em>did</em> you +send the roses, or do you know who did send +them to Polly?” +</p> +<p> +“Nolla, Ah never heard of them until to-day. +Ah’m as curious as you, to know who sent them. +What were they like, anyway?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, you must know, Mr. Brewster, that +American Beauty roses like they were, cost a +small fortune in New York, at that time of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210'></a>210</span> +year. Each one of those roses cost not less than +five or six dollars. And the trinket that was +bound to the stems was not a cheap thing, either. +In fact, the chain was of fine, gold-plated links, +and the arrows were gold-plated, too. It was an +imported curio.” +</p> +<p> +“By the Great Horned Spoon! Roses that cost +like that! Why, they wilted, didn’t they?” gasped +Sam Brewster. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor laughed merrily. “Sure thing! But +we kept them as long as possible. That is just +where the joy comes in of getting costly roses—they +wilt. And anyone, who will spend that much +money on one, must think a heap of her first—see?” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Brewster stood stock-still. He caught at +Eleanor’s arm. “Ah’ve got it!” +</p> +<p> +“What—who?” Eleanor was breathless in +her eagerness. +</p> +<p> +“Find the silly swain that’s making eyes at my +Polly, and you’ve caught the rascal who sent the +roses.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor screamed with laughter. “Oh, you’re +funny! But isn’t that exactly what everyone’s +been doing?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh—have they?” +</p> +<p> +“Sure! I learned that Mr. Fabian tried to find +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211'></a>211</span> +out who the fellow was. And then Mr. Dalken +wanted to know. The Latimers and Evans put +Jim and Ken through the third degree, but no one +confessed to it. Now do <em>you</em> believe John sent +them?” +</p> +<p> +“I do not!” was the positive reply. +</p> +<p> +“Neither do I! Because John sent Anne a +bunch of roses for <em>her</em> valentine but they were +only seven dollars. She got a dozen, the usual +short-stemmed Bride Roses. He wouldn’t dare +send his sister such gorgeous ones and only give +his fiancée cheaper ones.” +</p> +<p> +Sam Brewster smiled at his companion. “Nolla, +you’re a wise little owl.” +</p> +<p> +“Anyone would be, after having had the social +training that was fed to me from the bottle up!” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Brewster laughed at this, and Eleanor then +said: “Guess I’ll be going back, now, Mr. Brewster. +I wanted to know your opinion about John +and the roses.” +</p> +<p> +“Wait, Nolla. Have you any answer to it yourself?” +</p> +<p> +“U—m, yes—I have a sort of a suspicion. But +it isn’t fair to anyone to even hint at it. So don’t +ask me.” +</p> +<p> +“This much you might answer, however, seeing +that Ah’m Polly’s father and the most concerned +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212'></a>212</span> +in the beaux she has. Do you fancy it might have +been your brother Pete?” +</p> +<p> +“<em>Pete!</em>” The very tone made Mr. Brewster +smile as he saw that Eleanor had never thought +of him. “Anyway, Pete and Poll hardly know +each other.” +</p> +<p> +“Ah wonder if it could have been Paul Stewart—he +seemed dreadfully attentive to her that time +when we-all were visiting you-all in New York.” +Mr. Brewster watched Eleanor shrewdly. +</p> +<p> +“I just guess it <em>wasn’t</em> Paul! He sent me a +lovely card for a valentine; and while we were +home in Chicago, I asked him about flowers. He +never thought to wire a florist about sending me +any flowers, he said. So I know Paul hadn’t anything +to do with it.” +</p> +<p> +“Ah! Well, Nolla, now we know who he was, +eh?” laughed Sam Brewster, tweaking Eleanor’s +ear and hastening away to the barns. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor stood watching him. Then she laughed +softly: “He sure did put one over on me, that +time!” +</p> +<p> +As she walked slowly back to the ranch-house +she soliloquized to herself. “That’s just who it +was. Gee! It’s almost as fine as having a romance +of my very own. But Polly doesn’t want it so. +</p> +<p> +“All the same, when John and Tom come down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213'></a>213</span> +here, I’m going to tease Tom about the wonderful +roses Polly’s brother sent her. Then we’ll see +what we’ll see!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor could keep her own counsel as well as +Sam Brewster, but the two exchanged wise looks, +now and then, when no one was watching. Still, +never a word was said again on the rose subject. +</p> +<p> +A week after the two girls got home, the others +in the party came down from Denver. Mrs. +Stewart was to be Mrs. Brewster’s guest that Summer, +Eleanor was Polly’s, and Anne said she was +John’s visitor. Then Tom Latimer laughed and +said: “I’ll have to be Mr. Brewster’s pal.” +</p> +<p> +“I can promise you that you won’t have your +head turned by any pretty school-girl, Tom, if you +are <em>my</em> guest,” chuckled Sam Brewster. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor tittered, Tom flushed, but the others +laughed at such a speech. +</p> +<p> +Plans had been made to take a three-day trip +up over Top Notch Trail, and inspect the progress +on the mine, but Mrs. Brewster and her guest +would remain at home, by preference. +</p> +<p> +The merry cavalcade started out, Polly on her +beloved Noddy as usual, and Eleanor on Choko. +The others rode their horses, and Jeb led an extra +horse with the packs. +</p> +<p> +There was no planned order in riding; first one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214'></a>214</span> +girl would have one of the escort, and then another +would ride up and “cut in” to urge the other +onward. Thus everyone was laughing and teasing +and talking merrily until they reached the falls +on top of the mountains. Here, where Polly had +caught the trout, the year before, they all had +dinner. +</p> +<p> +“My goodness! Folks in New York never +know what they miss by never coming to the +Rockies,” declared Polly, her eyes wandering to +the far-off line of mountain-ranges. +</p> +<p> +“And folks who live near these mountains are +never happy until they get to New York,” remarked +Mr. Brewster. +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed. “Oh, that is when one needs +education. I have always had too <em>much</em> mountain +and not enough of other good things. But now +that I am tasting a little of everything, I like my +mountains as well as anything I’ve seen.” +</p> +<p> +“D’ye think you-all will stay at home after +this?” eagerly asked her father. +</p> +<p> +“Double no!” affirmed Polly, emphatically. +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed at the expressive slang, and +Polly added: “At least, not until I have seen +Europe, year after next, and tried a hand in my +profession. Maybe—if I fall in love, some day—I’ll +come back to Pebbly Pit to raise my family.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215'></a>215</span> +</p> +<p> +John Brewster thought this so funny that he +ha-ha-haed loudly, but the others smiled doubtfully. +Eleanor could not help sending a swift +look at Tom Latimer to see how he received the +information. But Tom was scrambling to his +feet, so his face could not be observed. Eleanor +glanced away from him to Sam Brewster, and saw +the latter with a twinkle cornering his eyes as he +noticed Tom’s awkward movement. +</p> +<p> +“U—m!” muttered Eleanor. “I’ve got your +number, Tom Latimer!” But no one overheard +her whispered thought. +</p> +<p> +As the riders proceeded on their way, Paul +Stewart said: “I don’t see why you folks should +think this such a tough trail. I consider it rather +broad and good.” +</p> +<p> +“Humph! It’s a highway these days, what with +all the riding up and down. But last year you +wouldn’t have been able to see any thing but trees +and rocks,” Polly returned. +</p> +<p> +It was as Polly said: almost as clear a trail as +any woodland road. At Four-Mile-Blaze where +the girls were well-nigh lost on their first ride over +the trail, there now was a good but narrow bridle-path. +Thence it was easy going up the steep side +to Grizzly Slide. +</p> +<p> +“W-ell! See the crowd of men working up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216'></a>216</span> +there? And hear the sound of tools and machinery!” +exclaimed Polly, as she rode out of the +screening forest, and came to a man-made clearing. +</p> +<p> +“Of all things! Trees chopped down and turned +into huts; an army of workmen living here as if +they belonged,” added Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“We are blasting and clearing away the rubble +that hides your mine. We had both ends working +a few weeks ago, but now we are trying to drop a +shaft from the top,” said Mr. Brewster. +</p> +<p> +The visitors camped at the miners’ settlement, +that night, and the next day the girls were taken +about to see the great progress made according to +the plans to mine the ore. +</p> +<p> +A cable-road was being built from Choko’s +Cave down the steep mountain-side, to the valley, +and this was to be used to carry the ore-cars up +and down. As the girls stood on top of the ledge +that overhung the cave, they could look straight +down the awesome mountain-side, where the forest +had been cleared for the cable-line. +</p> +<p> +“It looks as if it all cost a heap of money,” said +Polly. +</p> +<p> +She had been so engaged in looking at the +change wrought in her beloved mountain, that +she failed to see that the others had wandered +away. But someone stood behind her. She felt +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217'></a>217</span> +it. As no reply came to her statement, she turned +and found Tom Latimer waiting for her. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, where are the others?” +</p> +<p> +“Gone over to the other side where the underground +river comes out, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“I was saying, Tom, that this must have taken +a lot of money.” +</p> +<p> +“More than we figured on, but once we begin +to get out the ore, it will roll back four-fold.” +</p> +<p> +Polly was impressed, but still wondered +“Where did all the money come from, Tom?” +</p> +<p> +“Stocks. We wanted to keep most of the Capital +for you and the first owners, you know; but +investors wouldn’t put up so much money without +a vote. So we had to sell out some of the voting +shares. That’s where Mr. Dalken came in—he +bought a big block of your stock, and it is his +money that’s doing this.” +</p> +<p> +“I think he is the nicest man! I used to think +he sent me a wonderful bunch of American Beauty +roses for a valentine, but I only learned the other +day that it was John! Wasn’t it funny?” +</p> +<p> +Tom laughed with Polly, and said: “What +made you think Mr. Dalken sent them?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, something happened once to Nolla and +me, in New York that nobody knows—so don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218'></a>218</span> +you go and tell on us, Tom!” Polly waited +anxiously to get Tom’s promise, then she proceeded. +</p> +<p> +“And Mr. Dalken happened along in time to +save us from the beasts. After that he made us +use his small automobile when we went to night-school. +We were awfully grateful to him for it. +</p> +<p> +“Then when Valentine Day came along, I suggested +to Nolla that we send him a lovely card +telling him how good he was to us. I sent it, and +late that night the roses came. I felt sure, all the +time, that he sent them; I thought he had forgotten +it was Valentine Day until after my card +reached him. I always wondered why he didn’t +put Nolla’s name on the card, too, as well as mine. +But now I know he never sent them.” +</p> +<p> +“Does John know you’ve found him out?” +asked Tom. +</p> +<p> +“No, not yet; but some day I’ll tease him about it.” +</p> +<p> +“Don’t! let him think you are still trying to +guess who sent the roses. It will tickle him to +pieces to believe you think it is an ardent admirer +of yours.” Tom laughed merrily with Polly at +the very idea. +</p> +<p> +“That’s just what I will! And you and I will +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219'></a>219</span> +sometimes pretend <em>you</em> sent the roses to me, and +then we will watch John’s face. Maybe he will up +and tell the truth!” added Polly. +</p> +<p> +“No, I doubt it. You see, Polly, John is a +wonderful actor, and one never knows just what +he thinks. If he managed to keep a close mouth +to me, his best friend, all this time, it must be +because he didn’t want Anne to find out he sent +you such roses.” +</p> +<p> +Then the two conspirators walked back to join +the others, but Polly and Tom felt that they had +a good joke between them, thereafter. +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220'></a>220</span><a name='chXIV' id='chXIV'></a>CHAPTER XIV—ANOTHER YEAR AT SCHOOL</h2> +<p> +The summer vacation passed quickly for Polly +and Eleanor, and September came in with wonderful +Autumn weather, when riding and mountain-climbing +were just the thing. However, all +such outings ended to plan for the return to New +York. +</p> +<p> +A letter had arrived from Mr. Fabian, in which +he spoke of his delightful visit with his wife and +daughter. They had gone to various places in +Europe and England, inspecting and studying all +the famous old works of art, and the ancient +buildings that made fitting caskets for these rare +curios. +</p> +<p> +“When I read this letter, of all Mr. Fabian has +done with his Summer, I feel guilty,” said Polly +to her friend, Nolla. +</p> +<p> +“Why should you? We had to rest and drop +all idea of study so’s to be fresh for this year’s +work. Didn’t we do it?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, we rested, all right, Nolla; but it seems +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221'></a>221</span> +we might have done some of the work we planned +to do, before we left New York. There is that +chest with our colors, paper and other things—we +never as much as unlocked it.” +</p> +<p> +“Polly, I can paint any sort of drapery you +want, and in any light or shadow. I can paint a +vase, a chair or a lamp; I can draw a hall, or a +room, or a window. What more do you want? +Why should we sit down and make loads of these +things all summer, when we know how to do the +work, already?” +</p> +<p> +“I don’t know, Nolla, except that we ought to +practise!” +</p> +<p> +“Pooh! I’m ready for all the work they want +to pile up on me, now and I’m glad I’ve been so +lazy all summer.” +</p> +<p> +“To tell the truth, Nolla, <em>I</em> am more than ready +to work with all my heart. I feel as if I would +dry up if I played any more,” admitted Polly, +laughingly. +</p> +<p> +With this desire to again take up their studies in +New York, the girls left Pebbly Pit the second +week in September. By the last of the month, +they were eagerly planning with Mr. Fabian for +the new year’s school work in art and decoration. +</p> +<p> +“I have a pleasant surprise for you, girls,” announced +Mr. Fabian, after greetings were exchanged. They all +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222'></a>222</span> +sat under the locust tree in +the little yard of the Studio. +</p> +<p> +“‘On with the dance,’” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“As you know, I landed in New York the first +week of September, and found most of my friends +still away in the country. But Mr. Dalken was in +evidence, as ever, eager to offer me his hospitality, +until I located for the Winter. +</p> +<p> +“We sat in the medieval library of his apartment, +and I remarked, casually, at the unusual size +of his rooms. +</p> +<p> +“‘Yes,’ replied he. ‘That’s the advantage of +leasing one of the old-fashioned apartments not +so far uptown. One gets the benefit of being near +the center of activities in the city, and at the same +time one can have the great rooms once occupied +by the old gentry of the town.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘What a splendid room for gatherings,’ I said, +never dreaming of his inspiration. +</p> +<p> +“‘Seeing that you are looking for a suitable +room in which to conduct your little private class +of art decorators, why not use this library? I +have all kinds of reference books in the cases and +I am so seldom at home in the early part of the +evening that you will be undisturbed.’ +</p> +<p> +“I was astonished, as you may imagine, and I +said, ‘But, Mr. Dalken, we couldn’t think of using +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223'></a>223</span> +this room and the apartment, without some return +for your kindness.’ +</p> +<p> +“He laughed. ‘What do I want of rent or its +equivalent? I am only too glad to do you and +those charming students of yours a good turn. +You see, I still owe Polly and Eleanor a great balance +which can never be paid. Were it not for +those two girls I would not have a child—even +though I seldom see my little one.’ +</p> +<p> +“I felt that he was so earnest about the offer +that I said we would talk it over with Mr. Ashby +and let him judge. Not that I did not see the advantage +of using the rooms, but I wanted an impartial +friend of Mr. Dalken’s to decide whether +or no he might regret the generous offer, later; +and then not care to tell us that we bothered him +with our regular classes three nights a week. +</p> +<p> +“So we visited the Ashbys the following evening, +and to my amazement, Mr. Ashby was enthusiastic +over the plan. He said: ‘Now you’ve +started out right, Dalk, and to prove how much I +think of your offer, I am going to have Ruth join +the class this year—if Mr. Fabian will take her. +It might be rather nice to have Elizabeth join the +class, also, even though she may not show any +talent for the work.’ +</p> +<p> +“‘Now, Ashby, you must pardon me if I speak +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224'></a>224</span> +frankly,’ Mr. Dalken then said. ‘One of the main +reasons for Mr. Fabian’s resignation from +Cooper, and giving all his valuable time to a small +class, is to urge those talented ones forward. If +my little girl, who detests application to study of +any sort, were to join this class, the basic idea +would be ruined. The class would be held back +by one delinquent. But I appreciate your motive +in suggesting a way that I might enjoy the companionship +of Elizabeth so often, without the +tyranny and incompatibility of her mother’s +temper.’ +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Ashby colored, as he thought he had been +diplomatic in his hint,” concluded Mr. Fabian. +“So now it is settled that Ruth Ashby joins our +art class, this year, and we will meet at Mr. Dalken’s +rooms for our work. That is nice for you +girls, as it is only a short walk of a few blocks +from the Studio.” +</p> +<p> +“<em>Nice</em> for us—why, it is just scrumptious!” exclaimed +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“And such a wonderful environment as that +library, will give us inspiration, too,” added Polly. +“I never <em>did</em> see such a kind man as Mr. Dalken! +If I had my way to accomplish it, I’d shower all +the joys and successes in heaven or earth upon his +generous heart.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225'></a>225</span> +</p> +<p> +“He <em>is</em> great and good, and it seems as if justice +must be sleeping, when such a man must +suffer alone because of a silly moth of a wife. If +he would only hearken to his friends and seek +freedom from such galling bonds! but he doesn’t +think divorce ever righted a wrong, and he still +hopes he can bring Mrs. Dalken to a sense of her +family-obligations and gratitude, for all she has +been so unselfishly given. Poor fellow!” Mr. +Fabian shook his head despondently over their +benefactor’s future. +</p> +<p> +“Polly and I never knew what was the trouble +in the Dalken family, Mr. Fabian, but what we +have seen and known of our dear friend, I’m sure +that <em>he</em> was never to blame for it,” said Eleanor, +defensively. +</p> +<p> +“I never care to gossip or to repeat a story, +children, but now I think you ought to know why +Mr. Dalken lives alone so much as he does. If +we are to use his rooms, you must know what a +magnificent character he is, and then should you +hear any disagreeable gossip that can be traced to +his wife, you will understand the situation.” +</p> +<p> +“Whatever you say, Mr. Fabian, will never be +repeated by either Nolla or me,” promised Polly, +solemnly. +</p> +<p> +“I know it, that is why I feel I ought to tell you. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226'></a>226</span> +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Dalken, as you know, is a descendant of +one of the oldest Dutch Settlers in America. His +family, from olden times down to the present day, +were patriotic and loyal Americans. He is as +staunch an American as you will find, anywhere. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Dalken was a poor girl, and not over-brilliant. +But Mr. Dalken admired her prettiness +when she was a young miss, and when he was but +a slip of a youth. They went to entertainments +together in the small town where they both lived, +and enjoyed each other’s company for two or three +years. +</p> +<p> +“Then the young man went to college and saw +the world. He realized how superficial Amy +Lathrop was, and as time went by, he would have +forgotten her completely, had she not kept up her +side of the correspondence. And gradually a suggestive +note crept into her letters. +</p> +<p> +“When his college days were over, young Dalken +returned to his birth-place to settle the country +estate that was his. Then he met Amy again, and +she found him so chivalrous that it was an easy +matter to give him to understand that she had +waited for him these five years—that she had been +the soul of faithfulness. +</p> +<p> +“Without consulting his friends, or mentioning +the matter to others in the town, he became engaged +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227'></a>227</span> +to her on the claim from her, that it had so +been understood before he went to college. +</p> +<p> +“Well, they were married, one day, and then +our poor friend’s martyrdom began. Amy Dalken +was of no use in anything or in any way. True, +she had two children, but it may have been much +better had she never become a mother. She had +no affection for them or the father, and only +thought of spending money and enjoying herself +to the utmost. +</p> +<p> +“Dalken was wealthy before he married Amy, +and his alert mind coupled with his unusual foresightedness +in finance soon rolled up fortunes for +him. His wife spent money like water, and was +sought after by the vultures of society—those who +fawn and fondle as long as they can get something +out of the victim. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Dalken’s balls and bridge-parties were +famous—I might say, notorious—for at the former +the extravagance was a matter of newspaper +comment, and at the latter, the stakes were so high +that others lifted their eyebrows at the losses and +gains. +</p> +<p> +“Little Billie Dalken was eighteen months old, +and the joy of our good friend’s life, when a +dreadful thing happened. Billie was a chubby, +handsome little chap exactly like his father—the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228'></a>228</span> +same intelligent brown eyes, the same fine features, +and he was unusually clever and large for +his age. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Dalken had been called to Washington +on business one day, and that same day his wife +was about to give a grand dinner and bridge, later. +There were plenty of servants in the household, +but on such an occasion everyone was busy with +the extra work. Billie’s own nurse gave him his +supper and was about to put him to bed when she +discovered a wheezing sound in his throat. She +feared another attack of croup. She was about to +apply the remedies she knew of, when Mrs. Dalken’s +maid came to the nursery. +</p> +<p> +“‘The mistress says you are to go to her at +once and I am to sit with the baby for a while. +She wants her head massaged because it aches +so!’ +</p> +<p> +“And the nurse answered as she thought proper, +‘Go and tell your mistress that Billie has a bad +cold and I must remain to take care of him.’ +</p> +<p> +“The maid tossed her head and left the room. +She hadn’t any desire to remain with a baby, especially +if it was wheezing and beginning to cough. +So she may have exaggerated the reply somewhat. +However, that did not excuse Mrs. Dalken from +her next act. She was furious and sent the butler +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229'></a>229</span> +to the nursery to pay off the nurse and see that she +left the house at once! +</p> +<p> +“Then she sent the parlor-maid to sit in the +nursery with the child. That dinner was a great +success, but just before the card-party began, the +maid sent down word that Mrs. Dalken was to +come up to the nursery at once, and see what ailed +the baby—he was so red in the face and had a +fever, she said. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Dalken whispered a reply: ‘I’ll be up as +soon as I can get the tables started.’ Then she +never gave it another thought. +</p> +<p> +“Three times during that evening the frightened +parlor-maid sent down for the mother to +come up. And three times the hostess smiled and +nodded and then forgot all about the call. Before +midnight, the boy began choking and gagging and +the hysterical maid ran back and forth hoping to +find the butler, or someone, who would help in +this extremity. +</p> +<p> +“Every servant in the house was busy serving +drinks, cards, or cigarettes, and none had time to +call up a doctor. Then the daring maid telephoned +for a doctor she knew. But he lived so +far uptown that it took half an hour to arrive at +the house. +</p> +<p> +“Before he got there, little Billie Dalken was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230'></a>230</span> +sleeping in the last long rest. No one was with +him but the parlor-maid when he strangled to +death; but the awful contortions of his face and +body showed the suffering he endured during the +convulsions. +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Dalken came home early in the morning, +the Washington business having been successfully +consummated without any loss of time. It was +not yet seven o’clock, but everyone in the house +seemed astir. The heavy fumes of smoke and the +aftermath of a riotous night’s play were evident +throughout the first floor rooms. He smiled sardonically +at it all, then rushed upstairs two steps +at a time to peep at his beloved children. +</p> +<p> +“Elizabeth was weeping fearfully in her little +crib that stood in the room connecting with the +nursery. The moment she saw her father she +screamed with relief. +</p> +<p> +“‘Oh, Daddy! Billie’s so twisted and queer—and +he won’t answer when I call him.’ +</p> +<p> +“Poor Dalken had a sudden premonition of +catastrophe and rushed into the nursery. He almost +collapsed at what he saw there. A strange +woman was about to take up the stiff little form +and do for it what a loving mother should reverently +insist upon doing. +</p> +<p> +“The father, with a broken heart, took his beloved +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231'></a>231</span> +boy and prepared him for his last resting-place. +All through the three days elapsing after +the night of Billie’s death, Mrs. Dalken remained +locked in her boudoir, her maid seeing that the +smelling salts were handy whenever her lady called +for them. Between the visits of condolence from +her intimates, and the fittings of the deep mourning, +the mother was kept too busy to meet her +husband, or watch with the remains of her baby. +</p> +<p> +“But after the funeral (that also buried most +of Dalken’s joy in living) he insisted upon a serious +talk with his butterfly wife. She promised +everything, even to giving up her gambling games, +if he would but refrain from the publicity of the +cause of Billie’s death and the subsequent separation. +She used her sharpest weapon to gain her +point—Elizabeth. +</p> +<p> +“So several more months went by, but the poor +man was a mere money-machine in his own home. +Even his little daughter began to believe that +society was everything, and love or home-ties only +a necessity that interfered with one’s pet pleasures +and freedom. +</p> +<p> +“Without consulting her husband, Mrs. Dalken +planned to visit Europe with a party of friends. +To keep her grasp on her money-supplier she took +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232'></a>232</span> +Elizabeth with her. A nurse looked after the girl. +She remained abroad for more than a year, and +when she returned she went directly to a fashionable +hotel instead of seeing that her home was reopened +in New York. +</p> +<p> +“She had ordered everything swathed and +packed for the time she was abroad, and had left +but two rooms livable for the owner and master +of the magnificent dwelling. +</p> +<p> +“Dalken lived there in gloomy sorrow for a few +months and finally his friends insisted upon his +going to the Club where he could meet cheerful +companions and stop brooding over his irreparable +loss. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Dalken was in no hurry to reopen her +home, and all that Winter she remained at the +hotel, while her husband stopped at his club. She +allowed him to call upon her two or three times +a week, when others were present, and she not +only accepted all the checks he offered her, but +ran up fearful debts everywhere. He was permitted +to take Elizabeth out at certain times, but +Mrs. Dalken was clever enough to keep hold on +the girl, as she knew it was her only hope of keeping +her clutch on her provider. +</p> +<p> +“Just after the Holidays, that season, she went +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233'></a>233</span> +to Palm Beach, but she entered Elizabeth in a +boarding school out of the city. Dalken tried, +in many ways, to learn where his child was, but +he had no success in his search. +</p> +<p> +“Then he wired his wife that she must turn +over the girl to him while she was running around, +or he would instantly stop her income and sue her +for desertion. Then she came back to New York +and took Elizabeth out of school again, but matters +got worse and worse for poor Dalken. +Finally his dear friends, who loved him for what +he was and is, persuaded him to sue for a legal +separation. They hoped Mrs. Dalken would turn +over the girl whom she had no natural love for, to +the father, as a hostage. +</p> +<p> +“But she was a wise woman, by this time. She +accepted the separation without demur, but refused +to give up Elizabeth. It was then agreed +that the girl might choose which one of the parents +she preferred to live with. Having had so many +years of life with her mother, the girl became like +her—selfish, vain, and arrogant. No love or +gratitude was found in her character. +</p> +<p> +“Just at this time, Mr. Dalken was taken very +ill, and his mother (who is a dear, you will find, +when you meet her) came from England to nurse +him. He was ill for more than a year, so Elizabeth +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234'></a>234</span> +chose to remain with her mother for the time +being. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Dalken, Senior, took her only child back +to England with her, as soon as he could travel, +and there she kept him well-nursed and cared for, +in her cousin’s English country-house, until he had +regained his strength and fairly good health. +Then mother and son went to the Continent to +visit the scenes of the famous battle-fields, and +then on to the Riviera for a month. +</p> +<p> +“The wise mother knew that taking Mr. Dalken’s +thoughts from his own miserable state, and +making him think of other’s woes, would the +sooner brace him up to face his life-problem. And +so it was. +</p> +<p> +“Elizabeth elected to remain with her frivolous +mother but Mr. Dalken supports her handsomely, +and often bribes her to spend an afternoon or +evening with him, by having a valuable gift awaiting +her coming. Mr. Ashby, and other friends, +have advised Dalken against this pernicious way +of baiting the inclinations of the girl, but he says +they do not know his heart-hunger, and so cannot +judge his actions.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Fabian! Our poor, dear Mr. Dalken!” +sobbed Polly, when the speaker had ended +his story. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235'></a>235</span> +</p> +<p> +“If I ever meet that horrid woman I shall tear +her hair out, I know I shall!” wept Eleanor, +vehemently. +</p> +<p> +“If only we could do something, Nolla, to make +up to our dear Dalk, for all his sorrow,” sighed +Polly, drying her eyes. +</p> +<p> +“You can love him the more for this story, +girls, but do not refer to it, as he is still tender +over his loss.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236'></a>236</span><a name='chXV' id='chXV'></a>CHAPTER XV—THE FOUNDLING</h2> +<p> +The sad story told the girls, about their friend +Mr. Dalken, filled them with love and compassion +for the great-hearted man, and they wondered +how they could do <em>something</em> for him that +would not only show their appreciation of his +kindness to them, but at the same time give him +pleasure or happiness. But there seemed no material +thing that he needed, and really, nothing +that one could do for him. +</p> +<p> +“There must be times when he sits alone brooding +over his boy and how different things might +have been had he married a different type of +woman,” remarked Eleanor, one evening, after +leaving their new class-room. +</p> +<p> +“Yes; but it seems to me he should have been +able to see through such a shallow thing as that +woman must have been, when he returned from +college and found her apparently waiting for +him,” Polly replied. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237'></a>237</span> +</p> +<p> +“But he’s so tender-hearted, you see, he couldn’t +bear to give her any pain or trouble. That must +have been the only reason why he allowed her to +get him.” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so. Why, even now, he is an easy +prey to the scheming people who know he has +barrels of money, and who simply pretend to be +friendly for what they can get out of him.” +</p> +<p> +“It’s too bad he can’t be satisfied with just Mr. +Ashby and Mr. Fabian for man friends, and we +few women for his women friends,” mused Eleanor. +“We’d love him for himself.” +</p> +<p> +Polly smiled. “Wouldn’t you and I give him a +gay time—with high-school keeping us employed +every week-day, and art class every other night in +the week, to say nothing of lectures, exhibitions, +and other things that Mr. Fabian has us do, in +line with our work.” +</p> +<p> +The two girls had crossed Madison and Fourth +avenues by this time, and were slowly walking +down the street towards the Studio. It was +a beautiful Fall night, and the moon was almost +full, hence they were in no hurry to reach home +and go indoors. +</p> +<p> +“I hear Anne singing—she must have company,” +said Polly as they neared the house. +</p> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<a name='i004' id='i004'></a> +<img src="images/illus-238.jpg" alt="HE WAS A CHUBBY LITTLE FELLOW." title=""/><br /> +<span class='caption'>HE WAS A CHUBBY LITTLE FELLOW.</span> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238'></a>238</span></div> +<p> +“Yes; the windows are open in the living-room, +and I can peep under the shades and see Anne at +the piano,” whispered Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +Just then the breeze wafted one of the shades +back from the window, and the girls recognised +Mrs. Evans and Mrs. Latimer as the guests of +Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s hurry in!” exclaimed Eleanor, suddenly +turning from the front window and darting into +the vestibule. +</p> +<p> +The outside door was open wide, and as Eleanor +ran up the one step that raised the tiled entrance +from the sidewalk, she stumbled over a +soft bundle that seemed pushed against the wall. +</p> +<p> +By this time, Polly also reached the vestibule, +but the inside door being closed and locked for +protection, it was too dark in the vestibule for +either of the girls to see what the huge bundle +contained. +</p> +<p> +“It feels like a bundle of old clothes. Maybe +some servant hid it here for a time—she may be +going to come back for it,” observed Eleanor, +prodding the bundle with her foot. +</p> +<p> +But to the surprise of both girls, a little squeal +issued from the roll. In the semi-darkness, they +stood spell-bound and gazed at each other. +</p> +<p> +“It’s a baby—of all things!” cried Polly, hastily +trying the handle of the door. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239'></a>239</span> +</p> +<p> +“Ring—ring the bell like mad. I’ll pick it up!” +Eleanor exclaimed, excitably. +</p> +<p> +“Open the door—Anne—hurry up! We’ve +found a baby!” called Polly, leaning over the iron +rail that projected over the area door, in front +of the windows. +</p> +<p> +Both girls forgot that they had latch keys, but +Mrs. Evans sat nearest the window where Polly +stood, and quickly answered her call. Eleanor, +meanwhile, had carefully picked up the rolled-up +baby and, the moment the door was flung open, +carried it indoors. +</p> +<p> +“Where did you find it?” exclaimed four +amazed women. +</p> +<p> +“Right at our door—in the vestibule,” said +Eleanor, placing her bundle on the divan and proceeding +to open it. +</p> +<p> +“Wasn’t anyone in sight?” asked Mrs. Latimer, +cautiously. +</p> +<p> +“Not that we noticed; but, of course, we never +thought to look, when we found what was in the +bundle,” explained Polly, nervously eager to assist +Eleanor in what she was doing. +</p> +<p> +Before the swaddling blankets were released +from the baby, it began to utter baby-talk. The +females, grouped closely in front of the divan, +smiled appreciatively. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240'></a>240</span> +</p> +<p> +Finally the last wrapper, which was of mosquito +netting, came off, and there lay a chubby little fellow +of about fifteen months. He had a fist in his +mouth, and with the other dimpled hand he +clutched at Polly’s hair as she leaned over him. +</p> +<p> +“Oh! Isn’t he a darling! He must belong to +a neighbor!” exclaimed Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“He certainly is not starved or poorly cared +for,” added Mrs. Evans, with experienced voice. +</p> +<p> +“But he only has on his nightie! Not another +stitch to be found,” said Anne, carefully rolling +the baby over to see if he had any clothes under +him. +</p> +<p> +“There’s a note—pinned on the blanket!” cried +Polly, anxiously removing the pin and taking the +paper over to the light. +</p> +<p> +“It says—just one word—‘Billy.’ Did you +ever!” exclaimed Polly, glancing from one to the +other of the friends who were waiting expectantly +to hear about the boy. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s see!” demanded Eleanor, frowning at +such a short explanation. +</p> +<p> +Polly handed the slip of paper to her friend and +joined Anne at the divan where she was divesting +the boy of his nightie to see if further clues might +be found. About his fat neck was a very fine gold +chain, and suspended from that was a tiny flat +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241'></a>241</span> +heart-shaped locket. It did not open, but on the +plain gold face was a monogram of three letters: +B— D— W—. +</p> +<p> +“Now we’ve got something to work on! ‘B’ +stands for Billy, of course, but what can ‘D’ and +‘W’ mean?” Eleanor said excitedly. +</p> +<p> +“No child is christened ‘Billy,’” Anne contradicted. +“He would be ‘William’—and that is +what the ‘W’ is for. Children are nicknamed +‘Billy’ or ‘Willy’ later. Now his middle and last +name must begin with the ‘B’ and ‘D’—or vice +versa.” +</p> +<p> +“Shake out the blankets carefully—perhaps +another paper is pinned to one of them,” said +Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +But there was no other message in the blankets. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s take off his flannel shirt! There may be +something there,” ventured Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +In less than a minute, the pins were out and the +woven shirt of Merino was removed, but no further +information rewarded the anxious seekers. +So the shirt was carefully replaced and the boy’s +nightie slipped over his head again. +</p> +<p> +“It’s all hand-made of fine linen,” remarked +Mrs. Latimer, as she felt of the hem at the bottom. +</p> +<p> +“And one can see that he is no slum child,” +added Mrs. Evans. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242'></a>242</span> +</p> +<p> +“<em>Who</em> can he be? and why should anyone want +to leave him?” were the perplexing questions Polly +asked of the others. +</p> +<p> +They all shook their heads and wondered. But +the boy had no use for such condolences; he +crawled over the divan and when he found not +what he was in search of, he screwed up his +dimpled face and began a lusty call. +</p> +<p> +Anne instantly took him up and began to chirp +to him. He smiled a cheerful thanks and showed +eight little front teeth. That brought all his new +friends to his feet—metaphorically speaking. +</p> +<p> +“<em>Isn’t</em> he a dear!” declared Mrs. Stewart to no +one in particular. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, but we have to advertise him at once. It +may be that a villain kidnapped him and ran away +with him just to get a reward. He may have been +seen, or chased by the police, and then dropped +the baby in our vestibule,” said Mrs. Latimer. +</p> +<p> +Anne laughed. “Which analysis shows that one +of us married a lawyer—Mrs. Latimer gives us +good advice.” +</p> +<p> +“Or he may belong to a young mother who cannot +longer earn a living for him,” added Mrs. +Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“That’s not likely, mother,” returned Anne. +“As the child would look thin and sickly if a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243'></a>243</span> +mother found it hard to support it. I rather think +it is a babe that belongs to some distracted mother +in the neighborhood. He has evidently been put +to bed for the night. Possibly a vindictive nurse-girl +took him from his home to make his parents +seek for him and then left him at the most convenient +door.” +</p> +<p> +“Anne’s reason sounds the most plausible, and +we’d better ’phone the police-stations at once. +Billy’s parents may even now be wild with despair, +for we do not know how long he was in the vestibule. +All we know is, he was not there when we +came in, about eight o’clock,” said Mrs. Evans. +</p> +<p> +So she telephoned the police-stations, near by, +and also asked the morning papers to run a short +notice under a suitable caption. Before she had +finished this work, however, Master Billy began +his complaints again, and now he was beginning to +look as impatient as such a good-natured baby +could. +</p> +<p> +“Maybe he’s hungry?” suddenly suggested Mrs. +Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“That’s just what ails him—but we haven’t any +bottle!” exclaimed Mrs. Evans. +</p> +<p> +“Perhaps he drinks from a cup—he is old +enough to have been weaned, you know,” ventured +Mrs. Latimer. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244'></a>244</span> +</p> +<p> +A cup of warmed milk was brought in short +order, and Mrs. Stewart held it out to Anne, as +she was still holding the baby. The moment Billy +saw the cup, he almost leaped from Anne’s arms, +and immediately began gurgling for very glee. +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed at his antics, and Anne was +about to hold the cup to his lips, when two fat +hands clutched at it in a hungry endeavor to reach +the contents. Of course, part of the milk spilled +on his nightie but the remainder he drank greedily. +</p> +<p> +“He’s well-trained—whoever he is. I should +say that he has had every attention in the past, to +have him act like this at his age,” said Mrs. +Latimer. +</p> +<p> +“But we don’t know how old he is. He may be +months older than we thought for,” argued Mrs. +Evans. +</p> +<p> +“Well, he isn’t more than eighteen months at +the most,” declared Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor stood silently by listening to +these experienced mothers, but Anne smiled indulgently +at them, and kept her opinions to herself. +</p> +<p> +Dr. Evans and Mr. Latimer stopped for their +wives, and when they had heard and been shown +the fine boy, they gave their masculine opinions. +</p> +<p> +“A baby who was boarded out, and the parents +hadn’t paid up recently. So the woman left him +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245'></a>245</span> +on the first door-step to get rid of him,” was the +doctor’s verdict. +</p> +<p> +“There spoke the doctor who knows of such +cases,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +“That isn’t it, however,” remarked Mr. Latimer. +“I am of the opinion that this child is of +wealthy parentage. He likely is a stumbling-block +for some heirs, who wish him safely out of the +way so they may claim the estate.” +</p> +<p> +Anne laughed again. “There speaks the attorney. +But you should have had the jealous heirs +remove this monogramed locket before they tried +to get rid of all evidence of a barrier to their +inheritance.” +</p> +<p> +“Reckon we’d better stop romancing and put +Billy to bed,” said Polly, in a matter-of-fact voice. +</p> +<p> +Her common sense caused a general laugh, and +Dr. Evans added: “Well, ladies! Come on, if +we are to get home to-night.” +</p> +<p> +With a last look at the sleepy cherub, and a +good-night to the friends living in the Studio, the +four New Yorkers went out. +</p> +<p> +“Where shall he sleep to-night?” asked Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Let me have him?” cried Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh—I found him first—let me have him,” +begged Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“No, girls; babies should sleep absolutely alone. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246'></a>246</span> +I will get a drawer from the high-boy and +rig him up a nice little bed therein. To-morrow +night he will be in his own home, most likely,” +explained Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +So saying, she hurried upstairs, and in a short +time returned, carrying the drawer. Anne and +the two girls helped cushion it softly, and then +they placed Billy in it. +</p> +<p> +He was asleep almost before the bed was ready, +and the moment his head sank into the soft pillow, +he closed his eyes. +</p> +<p> +“He seems unusually good, Anne,” ventured +Mrs. Stewart, as the four foster mothers stood +gazing down at the flushed little baby-face. +</p> +<p> +“And very pretty for a young child,” added +Anne. +</p> +<p> +“Well,” sighed Polly, “I suppose we’ll have to +hand him back in the morning.” +</p> +<p> +“Some time during the night, most likely,” +grumbled Eleanor. “The police will tell his folks +where he is, and they will be at our door ten minutes +later.” +</p> +<p> +But no one called for Billy, that night, and in +the morning the papers told the story of the foundling. +A minute description of his appearance and +clothing was given, and the telephone number of +the family where he was to be found. Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247'></a>247</span> +Evans had wisely refrained from giving any names +of the tenants of the Studio. +</p> +<p> +Before seven o’clock that morning, the telephone +began ringing. Anne answered it, but described +the baby left on their door-step differently +from what the anxious mother on the other end +of the wire had expected. +</p> +<p> +By eight-thirty, the telephone had called Anne +or Polly five times. At last Polly said: “My +goodness! how can five mothers lose boys like ours +in one evening? Can’t they take care of them?” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor then said, “Why, in Chicago, there are +records of more than a score of babies lost every +day. Most of them find their parents again, but +lots of them don’t.” +</p> +<p> +“What happens to the poor tots who can’t find +their folks again?” asked Polly, horrified. +</p> +<p> +“They go to the orphan asylum—or the Children’s +Home.” +</p> +<p> +With a gasp, Polly glanced at their laughing +little Billy. Then she looked anxiously at her +three companions. They had all thought of the +same thing, it seems. +</p> +<p> +“I just couldn’t let him go to a foundling home,” +Polly whimpered. +</p> +<p> +“We can afford to keep him, Polly. You and +I can adopt him,” declared Eleanor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248'></a>248</span> +</p> +<p> +But Anne did not seem to approve of the plan. +She shook her head as she gazed at the curly-haired +boy who was banging the breakfast table +with a teaspoon. “That would never do for you, +girls.” +</p> +<p> +But another ring on the telephone interrupted +further argument on that subject. Anne described +Billy all over again—“Large brown eyes, +very soft silky hair—yellow and curly. About +thirty pounds weight, eight front teeth, aged about +sixteen months.” +</p> +<p> +Before she had completed her description of the +foundling, the distracted mother at the other end +of the wire sighed: “He’s not mine—thank +you.” +</p> +<p> +“Polly and I are not going to school this morning, +Anne,” Eleanor now informed the young +teacher. +</p> +<p> +“I don’t see why not?” demanded she. +</p> +<p> +“First, your mother can’t be chasing back and +forth to the ’phone all day; and secondly, we do +not propose having a stranger calling and stealing +our baby. Unless the parents present perfectly +satisfactory evidence that Billy is theirs, no one +shall get him.” +</p> +<p> +Anne smiled, but seeing that it was almost nine +o’clock, she consented to the two girls remaining +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249'></a>249</span> +home that session; furthermore, she promised to +explain to Mrs. Wellington about the magnet that +had kept them at home. +</p> +<p> +Later in the morning, Dr. Evans stopped in to +see if any one had called for the baby. Polly and +Eleanor were in the midst of giving Billy his bath +in the large tub. Such laughing and shouting had +never been heard in that bathroom before. Even +Mrs. Stewart laughed in sympathy, as she told the +doctor what a fine well-behaved child Billy was. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll call again this evening, Mrs. Stewart. If +he has not been claimed by that time, I will see +what I can do to relieve you of his care.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh—he is no care whatever, doctor; and I +doubt whether the girls will consent to your taking +him to a home—for a few days, at any rate. They +think someone will call for him.” +</p> +<p> +“But you haven’t any clothes or other necessities +for him, have you?” asked the doctor. +</p> +<p> +“We didn’t have at first, but Nolla and Polly +ran to a department store on Fifth avenue—it’s +only a few blocks over, you know,—and bought +him everything he needs. When he had his shoes +on he stood up and began walking about while +he held fast to the chairs. He certainly is a bright +child.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, the girls ought not to go silly over him. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250'></a>250</span> +Buying clothes and shoes and everything—until +they know who he is.” +</p> +<p> +“If no one ever calls, Billy has to have clothes; +anyway, we thought we ought to get them, now, +instead of later.” +</p> +<p> +“I can see, Mrs. Stewart, that you are as foolish +about the baby, as the two girls are themselves,” +laughed Dr. Evans, as he took up his hat to depart. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Stewart laughed, but the moment the doctor +was out of the front door, she hurried upstairs +to help dress the boy after his bath. +</p> +<p> +Once he was dressed in his new clothing, and +had had a full cup of warm milk and gruel, he +cuddled down for his nap. +</p> +<p> +“Now, no use talking! he is a wonder!” declared +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“We can keep him, as well as not. He isn’t one +mite of trouble,” added Polly. +</p> +<p> +Having waited until Billy was fast asleep, Mrs. +Stewart tip-toed from the bedroom, beckoning the +girls to follow her out. +</p> +<p> +The police-department had sent their detective +to get all the facts from Eleanor and Polly, and +the press had sent to find out if there was any +other clue or information about the boy; then, no +further interruptions took place that day. +</p> +<p> +The two girls sat out under the locust tree in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251'></a>251</span> +the yard, because there they could hear the first +whimper from Billy, when he awoke from his nap. +As they sat there, they discussed his future. +</p> +<p> +“If no one ever calls for him, what <em>shall</em> we do +with him?’ asked Polly, giving Eleanor a penetrating +look. +</p> +<p> +“You’ve got something on your mind—what is +it?” countered Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, I have, but I want to hear what <em>you</em> have +to say.” +</p> +<p> +“I’d love to keep him, Polly—at least as long +as we are in New York. I suppose it would be impossible +to take him abroad with us, next summer,” +returned Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Yes—impossible. And if we keep him with +us, we will have to hire a nurse-maid, as poor Mrs. +Stewart can’t look after a lively youngster all day, +while we are at school.” +</p> +<p> +“What was your idea, then?” wondered +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Can’t you guess, Nolla? And his name is +Billy, too!” +</p> +<p> +For an instant Eleanor’s face looked too surprised +to allow her to speak. Then she stammered: +“Well—of all things!” +</p> +<p> +“What do you make of it?” laughed Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Wonderful—but what is your plan?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252'></a>252</span> +</p> +<p> +“Seeing his name is Billy, and his eyes are dark +brown and his hair golden curls, and he is about +sixteen months old—all of which are in his favor +to advance my little scheme, I should say that we +try to keep him a few weeks, right now, and see if +we can add to Billy’s winsome ways. Meanwhile, +we will use every effort to find if he has any relatives; +then should he be a veritable foundling, we +will present him to dear Mr. Dalken for his very +own.” +</p> +<p> +“Splendiferous! Perfectly great!” cried Eleanor, +slapping her friend on the back in her delight. +</p> +<p> +“We will quietly advertise for and select a fine +elderly nurse for Billy, right off, and when we +have him all ready to be given away, he will be a +little wonder that no one can refuse.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Dalken won’t think of refusing him, +I know! He will be so happy to have a boy +again,” Eleanor said, enthusiastically. +</p> +<p> +Several times during the day, the telephone rang +and someone asked for a description of the baby. +Also a number of wild looking people called at the +address to have a look at the child, but all departed +with forlorn hopes. +</p> +<p> +As that night was not a class-evening, the girls +were free to do as they liked with their time. Anne +and her mother were amusing themselves, as much +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253'></a>253</span> +as the baby, by teaching him to say ‘Billy.’ Polly +and Eleanor were eagerly watching results. But +harshly upon this sweet scene, the door-bell +jangled. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll go!” called Eleanor, and in another minute +she had opened the door. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Mr. Fabian. Do come in and see our +baby!” +</p> +<p> +Then another admirer joined the circle of worshippers +around Billy’s feet. Mr. Fabian had +heard the story from Dr. Evans and dropped in +to see if the boy was still with his friends. +</p> +<p> +“He is a dear little shaver, isn’t he?” laughed +Mr. Fabian. “But what will you do with him if +no one claims him?” +</p> +<p> +“We really haven’t thought of that,” said Anne. +</p> +<p> +“I’m afraid, if we keep him here with us a week, +or more, we won’t want to give him up again,” +added Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian saw, from the corner of his eye, +that Polly was behind him trying to draw his attention. +So he managed to turn his head without +attracting Anne’s or Mrs. Stewart’s attention, and +saw the two girls shake their heads wisely, meantime +their fingers rested upon their lips in sign of +keeping silence. +</p> +<p> +Consequently no more was said, that evening, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254'></a>254</span> +about Billy, and when Mr. Fabian was ready to +leave, Polly and Eleanor said they believed they +would walk to the corner with their old friend. +The baby had been in bed for some time, and +Anne was busy writing manuscript, so no one objected +to the proposal. Mrs. Stewart merely +remarked: “Don’t go any farther than the corner, +dearies. And hurry right back home.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255'></a>255</span><a name='chXVI' id='chXVI'></a>CHAPTER XVI—BILLY FINDS A FATHER</h2> +<p> +The moment the two girls had Mr. Fabian outside +of the Studio, where they could talk in perfect +freedom, they told him of their secret plan. +</p> +<p> +“We are going to keep the baby for a few weeks +and see that he is perfectly trained, then we are +going to present him to dear Mr. Dalken,” began +Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but we will try and find a sensible woman +who will take all care of him, and Mr. Dalken +can enjoy Billy when he is at home with nothing +else to do,” added Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian was speechless, then he smiled. +“Does our friend know about this?” +</p> +<p> +“Mercy sakes, no! We want to surprise him. +We thought it would be fine, if we could keep the +baby that long, to leave him at Mr. Dalken’s +apartment on Thanksgiving morning,” returned +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Don’t you think he would like that?” from +Eleanor, eagerly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256'></a>256</span> +</p> +<p> +“Mr. Dalken is now out west on important business, +so of course, he doesn’t know a thing about +Billy, unless he read about it in the New York +papers,” remarked Mr. Fabian, thoughtfully. “I +don’t suppose he will take time to glance over +every news item in the papers, as he is too preoccupied, +at present, with the financial pages.” +</p> +<p> +“Well, what has that to do with our plan?” +asked Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“He won’t know a thing about the baby, and +you can easily keep the idea secret until Thanksgiving, +if you can get the right kind of a woman +to take daily care of the boy. Of course, you +were going to do that, anyway, were you +not?” +</p> +<p> +“I suppose so—we really hadn’t got as far as +that in our planning,” admitted Polly. +</p> +<p> +“But we will, Mr. Fabian, now that you have +mentioned it. How shall we know if we have the +right sort of nurse?” added Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“I’ll call up Ashby. I was there for dinner to-night, +and they told me of a woman they know +well, who is compelled to earn her living, because +of family reverses. Shall we stop in the hotel +across the street and use the booth there?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, yes! Let’s, Mr. Fabian!” exclaimed +Eleanor. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257'></a>257</span> +</p> +<p> +“No time like the present when you have any +important work to do,” added Polly. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian left the door of the telephone booth +slightly ajar so the two girls could assist in the +conversation. He soon had Mr. Ashby’s house +number and asked if Mr. or Mrs. Ashby were in. +</p> +<p> +Shortly thereafter a man’s voice was heard talking +on the wire. “Is this Fabian—oh, yes. What +can I do for you, old man?” +</p> +<p> +Then Mr. Fabian replied: “Why, I called +upon my girls at the Studio this evening, after I +left you, and I found the most astonishing addition +to their family circle. A little baby boy was left +on their door-step, it seems. A fine little fellow, +too. +</p> +<p> +“So far, no one has called to claim him, and +should no one come, the two girls have a plan to +place him in a good home. They told me all about +it, and I rather approve of the idea, too. But +what they need, at once, is an experienced, capable +woman to take care of the boy, until Thanksgiving +Day—perhaps after that, if she is found to be +satisfactory. +</p> +<p> +“I thought, at once, of that woman that Mrs. +Ashby and you were speaking of, at table, to-night. +Do you suppose she would consider a position as +second-mother to a baby?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258'></a>258</span> +</p> +<p> +The girls strained their ears to hear the reply +but Mr. Ashby spoke too low, and they could but +judge what he said by Mr. Fabian’s words afterward. +</p> +<p> +“Fine! If Mrs. Ashby will not consider it too +much trouble. And she will bring Martha down +to-morrow afternoon when the girls are home +from school?” +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor smiled with relief, and Mr. +Fabian said over the ’phone, “All right! Thanks, +Ashby. And thank your wife for the two girls, +too, who are waiting here for the verdict.” +</p> +<p> +As the three left the hotel again, Mr. Fabian +said: “Now that much is satisfactorily settled for +you, and Billy shall have a good woman to look +after him, if he is still unclaimed to-morrow afternoon.” +</p> +<p> +The girls were altogether too inexperienced to +realize that it was curious how easily the Ashbys, +Mr. Dalken’s most intimate friends, and Mr. +Fabian agreed to such a strange plan as trying to +saddle a foundling baby on a man who lived a +hermit’s life when in his own home. +</p> +<p> +They never questioned the readiness with which +these friends accepted their proposition, but they +were delighted at the “lucky chance” that brought +a woman to Mrs. Ashby on the very day that they +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259'></a>259</span> +began to think of employing a woman-nurse for +the baby. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian walked back to the Studio door +with them, smiling at their dreams of future bliss +for Mr. Dalken. In fact, their thoughts traveled +so far into the future, that they saw Billy a fine +young man and Mr. Dalken, white-haired and +bent, depending on his beloved adopted son for +everything. +</p> +<p> +The four inmates of the Studio were not aware +that they had been kept singularly free from constant +annoyance from reporters and police. Nor +did they realize that the short news article that had +appeared in the papers, had been a wonderful +story to catch the eyes of curious readers, but +<em>some</em>one in authority had ordered it “cut” to an +inch. +</p> +<p> +The afternoon following Mr. Fabian’s visit to +the girls, they hurried home from school and +found Mrs. Ashby’s car in front of the house. +They quickly entered the front door and greeted +her with a smiling welcome. +</p> +<p> +“I see you have Billy in hand, already,” laughed +Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes; isn’t he a friendly little fellow?” replied +Mrs. Ashby. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260'></a>260</span> +</p> +<p> +“Wonderful! We never knew babies were so +easy to live with,” added Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Mrs. Stewart took Martha upstairs to show +her how you managed for the baby. He may need +extra things, or other conveniences,” suggested +Mrs. Ashby. +</p> +<p> +Even as she spoke, the sound of steps was heard +descending the front stairs, and soon after, Mrs. +Stewart led Martha in, and introduced her to +Polly and Eleanor. The girls liked the refined +look and quiet sensible words and manners of the +nurse-to-be. +</p> +<p> +“Isn’t it splendid that Martha should have been +relieved, last week, of just such a position as we +now need her for? She was in the country taking +charge of a baby of about this boy’s age, but some +friends came and took him away, so she was free +to find another position,” explained Mrs. Ashby. +</p> +<p> +Martha handled Billy as if she was an expert, +and the boy crowed and tried to talk to her, as if +he had known her all his life. +</p> +<p> +“I never saw a friendlier baby than this one. +He smiles and is contented with anybody, and that +will make it fine for Martha,” remarked Mrs. +Stewart. +</p> +<p> +So it was immediately decided to retain Martha +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261'></a>261</span> +during the day, but she would have to find a place +to lodge, nearby and leave Billy with the girls +during the night. This pleased them well, for +they did not wish to relinquish all rights of attendance +on their baby to a stranger. +</p> +<p> +“I may as well remain for the rest of this afternoon, +Madam,” said Martha, speaking to Mrs. +Ashby, “as I have no other place to go.” +</p> +<p> +“How about seeking for a room in the neighborhood +and taking it to-day? You may not have +a free half hour, like this, again,” suggested Mrs. +Ashby. +</p> +<p> +Martha silently acquiesced but she cast a +troubled gaze at the child; when Eleanor picked +him up by the arms, she immediately corrected the +mistake, by saying, “Miss, you should always hold +a baby at his age, about the waist—a hand on each +side of him. <em>Never</em> by the arms!” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Ashby offered to drive Martha about to +hunt up a furnished room, so the girls said good-by +to their callers. +</p> +<p> +That evening was school-night again, and Mr. +Fabian was interested in hearing if Martha had +proved satisfactory. Even Ruth Ashby took a +personal interest in the baby-boy, now that Martha +was to be his nurse. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262'></a>262</span> +</p> +<p> +“Do you know Martha?” asked Polly, surprised. +</p> +<p> +“Of course. Wasn’t she mother’s nurse, years +ago?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh—I thought she was a lady of means who +had just lost everything,” remarked Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Well, it is this way. When mother was a little +mite Martha was a girl of about fourteen. +Grandma engaged her to push mother’s carriage +out for a walk every day. Then Martha grew +up and married and mother never saw her again, +for a long time. +</p> +<p> +“Her husband’s nephew came to live with them, +as Martha never had any children, but her nephew +grew up and married. Then Martha’s husband +died, and she went to live with the nephew and his +wife. They were well-to-do young people, and +Martha had an easy life there. +</p> +<p> +“They had a baby, and Martha took care of +him, as if she was his own mother. Then the +nephew enlisted in the war and was killed ‘over +there.’ His wife pined a lot, and during the epidemic +of the flu, last Winter, she took it and died, +too. +</p> +<p> +“That left Martha with the baby, but she hadn’t +a cent to live on, because there was only the money +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263'></a>263</span> +the baby ought to have had from the Government, +because of losing his father in battle. But Martha +didn’t understand how to go about getting it, and +when a friend of hers offered to find a good home +for the baby, the poor great-aunt consented. She +had no other choice, as she would have to work +herself, and could not be hampered by a little boy. +</p> +<p> +“Then she came to mother and that is how it all +happened.” +</p> +<p> +“I wonder what became of her grand-nephew?” +asked Polly. +</p> +<p> +“Mother begged of me not to mention it, and +never to refer to the past, when Martha was +about,” said Ruth, seriously. +</p> +<p> +“I suppose the poor thing misses her little +nephew so much!” observed Polly, sympathetically. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, that must be the reason,” agreed Ruth. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian listened attentively and approved +of Mrs. Ashby’s advice to her daughter. +</p> +<p> +No one came to claim Billy, and the days passed +swiftly for the self-appointed mothers of the boy. +He was so merry and good-natured a child, that +Mrs. Stewart sighed when she thought of the +Studio without him. Before November passed, +he could walk all alone and even tried to climb +the stairs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264'></a>264</span> +</p> +<p> +Martha was a jewel with him. She never +seemed too tired to do things for him. She it was, +who taught him his table manners and insisted +upon his saying “Plee” and “Tant” for anything. +He could say “Dadda” and “Biddy”—the latter +meaning himself. +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor spent every spare moment +teaching him new accomplishments, so that before +the middle of Thanksgiving month, the boy really +was unusually precocious and well-behaved. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken returned to New York the third +week in November and immediately sent out cards +to his friends for a dinner-party. It was very +private, only the circle acquainted with Polly and +Eleanor were to be his guests. But they had a +good time, nevertheless, and Mr. Dalken appeared +more cheerful than of yore. +</p> +<p> +“Now what do you suppose I called you together +for?” said he, after the table had been +cleared of the roast and everyone was ready to +listen while waiting for salad. +</p> +<p> +“Dear me, I hope you are not going to spring +a sensational surprise on us!” Eleanor said, her +face expressing worry. +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed, but Mr. Dalken said: “What +would you call a sensation?” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well! in case you were married while in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265'></a>265</span> +Chicago! That would ruin my hopes,” interpolated +Polly, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +A general laugh greeted this, and Mr. Dalken +retorted: +</p> +<p> +“I hadn’t even dreamed of such a possibility, +but now that you plainly show me how you have +been hoping I would propose to you, I may as well +take my medicine like a man!” +</p> +<p> +“Me—you—propose! What <em>are</em> you talking +of?” cried Polly, aghast. +</p> +<p> +Everyone laughed teasingly, but Eleanor explained +quickly. “He misunderstood your reason +for worrying, Polly. Just like a man—they think +one is always thinking of marriage, even when +there are great charities being perfected.” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken now showed his surprise, and asked +what really was the cause of Polly’s anxiety. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, you’ll see some day. We can’t tell you +now!” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“Then I may as well confess to you-all and tell +you what my surprise is. +</p> +<p> +“I finished my business in Chicago much sooner +than I had hoped for, and went on to Pebbly Pit +to see how things were progressing. I had a delightful +visit at the ranch, and am able to say that +work has reached the point, now, where the mining +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266'></a>266</span> +machines will start working next week, unless +snow stops everything.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, then you saw father and mother!” cried +Polly, eagerly. +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and I have all sorts of good things for +you from home. A jar of preserves, and a dozen +or more of glasses filled with jelly and other delectable +sweets that Sary insisted that I carry to you. +I did my best to explain that it would be cheaper +and safer if she sent them by express or parcel +post—but no! She told me ‘A bird in th’ hand is +wuth two er three in a bush.’” +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor instantly visualized Sary as +she made this remark, and they laughed merrily. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken then repeated minutest details of +the work on Rainbow Cliffs, and the gold mine on +Grizzly Slide. As everything promised so well, +the girls felt elated at their future prospects. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Ashby wanted to know if his friend had +succeeded in buying any more stock for him, and +Mr. Dalken replied: “You’ll have to wait until +Latimer issues another block. No one I know of +will sell any of what they hold.” +</p> +<p> +The evening passed pleasantly with intimate +matters to speak of, and at last Anne said: “We +must be going, Mr. Dalken. The girls have one +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267'></a>267</span> +of their long class days, to-morrow, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and Martha will want to go to bed,” +added Mrs. Stewart. +</p> +<p> +“Who’s Martha? Got a servant at last?” +asked Mr. Dalken. +</p> +<p> +“Why, no, Martha—” Mrs. Stewart began innocently, +but the two girls wildly interrupted her. +Polly shouted unusually loud for her, “Oh, I am +so tired!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor had managed to wink her eyes warningly +at Mrs. Stewart, and that lady realized that +she had almost “put her foot in it.” Mr. Dalken +noticed something was disturbing the two girls, but +he never dreamed what it was. +</p> +<p> +The following evening, at art class, Mr. Fabian +had news for the two girls. “Mr. Ashby has invited +Mr. Dalken to have his Thanksgiving Dinner +with his family, and that will give you the +opportunity you need, to get Billy settled in his new +home.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, how can we part from him!” sighed Eleanor, +wiping an eye, as she pictured the lonely +rooms. +</p> +<p> +“Yes—” sighed Polly, mournfully. “That’s +the worst of having a dog or a baby that you +become so fond of.” +</p> +<p> +“But you will see Billy three nights a week, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268'></a>268</span> +you never could have kept him for yourselves, +you know,” said Mr. Fabian. +</p> +<p> +Thanksgiving Day Martha seemed all upset. +The idea of moving the baby to a new home, and +perhaps not being welcome, made her cry softly, +now and then. The little family at the Studio, instead +of being very grateful for all the blessings +they had had during the past year, went about +looking forlorn and miserable. +</p> +<p> +They went to the Latimers for dinner that noon, +and left Martha with the baby. It had been +planned that they would get back home by eight +o’clock and accompany their baby-gift over to Mr. +Dalken’s apartment. Billy would be placed in bed +where his new foster father would find him, and +then would come the joy of it all. +</p> +<p> +The plans worked out as expected to a certain +degree. Mr. Dalken went up to the Ashbys for +dinner, and a little after eight o’clock, a mournful +procession wended its way from the Studio door. +Martha carried Billy carefully. Polly and Eleanor +carried the tub, chair, and other articles of use +for the baby. Anne carried the bundles of clothing, +and Mrs. Stewart carried the milk-warmer, +the other food-equipment, and the extra blankets. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken’s chauffeur opened the door to admit +the visitors, but when he saw the burdens the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269'></a>269</span> +ladies carried, he was speechless. Eleanor tried to +explain that they had a new boy for Mr. Dalken, +but Henri seemed not to appreciate the fact. +</p> +<p> +Billy was gurgling and trying to get his active +fists out of the quilted blanket, but Martha held +him firmly until she had him in the bedroom where +Mr. Dalken slept. +</p> +<p> +“We are going to leave him right in the middle +of this big bed, Henri, so his new father will find +him when he comes in to-night,” explained Eleanor, +arranging the baby’s bedding on the large +expanse of bed-spread. +</p> +<p> +Billy was arrayed for the night, and everyone +kissed him tearfully, as if he was about to be +placed in his coffin. Then Martha gave him a +drink of warm milk and placed him in his blankets. +</p> +<p> +Hardly had they tucked him up, before the bell +at the entrance rang imperatively. Henri glanced +distractedly at the baby and then at the other visitors, +before he turned to answer the call. It rang +a second time before he opened the door. +</p> +<p> +“Let’s turn down the light and hide behind the +velour portières,” whispered Anne, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +The five guilty members of the surprise-party +quickly hid themselves as best they could, but not +so soon, but that they heard Henri returning. He +was talking, and other voices were replying. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270'></a>270</span> +</p> +<p> +“I donno why the missee’s come in an’ fetch a +bebby. Dey say ‘He a big surprise,’ Mr. +Dalken.” +</p> +<p> +To the amazement of the hidden ones, Mr. Dalken’s +voice now replied: “Never mind, Henri. +I’ll be out with my visitors, in a moment. I only +want to get a handkerchief from the dresser.” +</p> +<p> +The five culprits saw him switch up the lights +and they then heard Billy welcome the unusual +privilege with a gurgle. Not a sound came from +the man who must have heard the baby-voice +and seen the occupant of his massive four-poster. +</p> +<p> +Polly could stand it no longer. She had to peep +out at what was going on. The first thing she saw, +was Eleanor’s head showing from the side of the +other portière. Both girls watched the scene with +bated breath. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken stood beside the bed, looking down +at the little bundle that made a dent in the middle +of his comfortable mattress. Billy was waving +his fists invitingly, as if to say, “Come on and +fight!” +</p> +<p> +As the two girls watched him, Mr. Dalken +smiled and said: “So <em>you</em> are Billy Martin, are +you?” +</p> +<p> +The two eaves-droppers glanced at each other +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271'></a>271</span> +in consternation. “How and why did Mr. Dalken +call <em>their</em> baby Billy Martin?” +</p> +<p> +“Well, Billy, suppose we go out and see what +your Daddy thinks of you. For my part, I say +you’re just about perfect.” As Mr. Dalken +spoke, he carefully lifted the willing baby from the +bed and cuddled him in his arms. Then he went +from the room. +</p> +<p> +“Polly!” hissed Eleanor, anxiously, “did you +hear what he said?” +</p> +<p> +“S-sh! let us follow and see what’s the matter. +Someone came in with Mr. Dalken, you know,” +returned Polly in a low voice. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Stewart and Anne now crept from behind +the heavy window curtains and tip-toed after Polly +and Eleanor. And, last of all, Martha came from +behind the door and followed in the wake of the +other four. Then they heard Mr. Dalken talking. +</p> +<p> +“Well, here’s the boy, but how he ever got into +my rooms I cannot say. Mrs. Ashby will have to +explain that, in a minute, as she is the one who +seemed to know where to find Martha and the +baby.” +</p> +<p> +Martha was still in the hall and could not see +who was in the living-room with Mr. Dalken, but +the four conspirators now stood staring at the +group in the center of the lighted room. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272'></a>272</span> +</p> +<p> +Mr. and Mrs. Ashby were seated in comfortable +armchairs, smiling happily at the two standing +men and about to make the baby comfortable. He +had been transferred from Mr. Dalken’s arms to +those of a younger man who was trembling with +joy at beholding Billy’s smiling little face. +</p> +<p> +“There, now, Martin. Isn’t he worth living +for? You said you wanted to die, when you found +your wife was gone. But let me tell you, my boy, +this baby ought to make you brace up.” Mr. Dalken +patted the strange young man on the shoulder, +and just then Martha burst into the room. +</p> +<p> +“Jimmy! Oh, Jimmy—is it you, or is it someone +who looks like my dead Jimmy?” +</p> +<p> +“Aunt Martha—Dear Aunt Martha—it is your +own Jimmy. I was a long time coming home, but +here I am at last!” +</p> +<p> +Then Polly and Eleanor learned the true story +about their precious Billy who was, according to +them, to have adopted Mr. Dalken for a father. +</p> +<p> +“Girls, I appreciate your great sacrifice to try +and make me happy, for I have heard from the +Ashbys how much you wanted to keep Billy, but +you felt that he ought to belong to me. Seeing +that he came so near to being mine, I shall always +take a great interest in him and his relatives,” +began Mr. Dalken, while Jimmy Martin and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273'></a>273</span> +Martha went into the other room to be alone with +the baby. +</p> +<p> +“You see, Mrs. Ashby is at the bottom of this +plot and having roped in her husband to believe +just as she did, the next step was to make the whole +plan seem accidental. +</p> +<p> +“So, when Martha was left with the baby, she +called on Mrs. Ashby for help. Seeing that the +boy had brown eyes and was named Billy, my +anxious friend decided that he was what I ought +to have to cheer me. Martha was boarded in a +country home until I prepared to go west on my +business trip. +</p> +<p> +“Just about that time, you found an unknown +babe on your door-step, but had we been able to +look behind the scenes, I think you would have seen +the Ashby’s car down on the corner, and Martha +anxiously waiting to see if you took Billy in, all +right. +</p> +<p> +“After that, Billy made his own way with you +people, as he is apt to make it with everyone. And +what was so natural, as that you should fall in with +Mr. Fabian’s well-learned lesson. The Ashbys +made him memorize just what to say and to do it +every day. +</p> +<p> +“All went as had been planned, and my dear +friends here were so pleased with themselves at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274'></a>274</span> +the little scheme, that they planned to return home +with me to-night and see how I liked the baby-surprise. +But this is where an unexpected and unknown +actor entered upon the stage. +</p> +<p> +“James Martin was not killed in battle. He +was wounded and taken prisoner by the Germans. +He was so dangerously injured that he was left to +die in a small town in the interior. But he managed +to pull through, and after many months of +convalescence, he worked his way from Germany +back to Paris. +</p> +<p> +“It took several months more to identify him +and get a passport for him to America. When he +went to his old home town to find his wife and +child, he learned that one was dead and the other +was taken away by the aunt. The shock sent him +to the county hospital again, and it was several +months before he could get out to start a hunt for +his boy. +</p> +<p> +“He learned where Martha had gone, and to-night, +James called at the house to ask Mrs. Ashby +if she knew anything about his boy and aunt. I +happened to be in the hall when he came in. +</p> +<p> +“So here we are, girls; you lose a protegé and +I lose a boy.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, but James wins back his boy again!” cried +Polly, delightedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275'></a>275</span> +</p> +<p> +“I want to know, Mr. Dalken,” demanded Eleanor, +frowning, “did Ruth Ashby know the truth +about this when she told us that yarn about +Martha?” +</p> +<p> +Mr. Dalken laughed. “No, girls. Poor Ruth +is as upset about it as you could wish her to be. +She wants me to adopt Billy, anyway, even with +his real father on hand to claim him. I really +think Mrs. Ashby is the one we have to put +through the third degree on this whole plot.” +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Ashby looked up and smiled. “Well, I +told the truth about the matter, didn’t I? But I +refrained from telling Ruth that Martha was the +same woman who was aunt to Billy, and I withheld +the facts that Billy was the same baby that +you girls found on your door-step—that’s all.” +</p> +<p> +“That’s all——” laughed Mr. Dalken. “As if +that was not enough! To deprive me of the son +my two pet girls tried to place in my arms.” +</p> +<p> +Polly flung herself in his arms and hugged him +as she said, “Nolla and I will have to adopt you +ourselves, now.” +</p> +<p> +And he whispered in her ear, so only she could +hear: “You haven’t any idea how happy you girls +make me. I have found something in life worth +while, since I found all of these good friends.” +</p> +<p> +Then Mrs. Ashby said: “Dalk, you have been +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276'></a>276</span> +hunting for a reliable man and wife to take charge +of your apartment, so I think it is Providence that +sent Martha and James to you. You will have admirable +help in them and little Billy, too.” +</p> +<h2><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277'></a>277</span><a name='chXVII' id='chXVII'></a>CHAPTER XVII—POLLY AND ELEANOR LEAVE FOR EUROPE</h2> +<p> +“I do declare! here it is the first of May, and it +seems as if it were but yesterday that we came +back to New York to study,” exclaimed Eleanor, +as Polly and she were returning from art class one +evening. +</p> +<p> +“And we are no more decided about what we +shall do this Summer, than we were last Fall. If +only Dad would consent to our joining the Ashbys +and Mr. Fabian on the European trip, in +June,” returned Polly. +</p> +<p> +“I’m glad father says <em>I</em> may go if your father +consents. Of course we shall have to go, some +time or other, Polly, before we could settle down +as experienced decorators; but this is a fine opportunity—to +be members of a party of appreciative +people such as is seldom offered to young beginners +as we are.” +</p> +<p> +“Eleanor, have you thought of what we shall +do, next year of school, if Anne marries John? +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278'></a>278</span> +You know, Mrs. Stewart says she is going back to +Denver to keep house for Paul, as he will graduate +with the other boys, next month.” +</p> +<p> +“Uh-huh! John and Tom will settle down at +Pebbly Pit to superintend the mine and jewel cliffs, +and Paul will join the survey crew in Denver. I +suppose my brother Pete will be hanging about +them, somewhere, doing odd jobs, now and then.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor spoke in a half-humorous tone, but +Polly was in earnest. +</p> +<p> +“Well, then, if Anne is John’s wife, and Mrs. +Stewart in Denver, where do we fit in?” +</p> +<p> +“I’ve thought it all out, Polly—never fear! You +see Mr. Fabian expects to bring his wife and +daughter back to America this year, as Nancy has +finished her art studies abroad. If we make ourselves +agreeable to them, and then hint gently, on +the trip back home, that we have no place to live +in, the coming winter, they’ll take us right in with +them. How’d you like that!” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, it would be great, Nolla, but would it be +quite the proper thing for us to do—to throw ourselves +upon their hospitality?” +</p> +<p> +“Polly, they ought to be thankful to have two +such nice girls with them! To say nothing of our +eventually becoming the greatest interior decorators +of the present day,” exclaimed Eleanor, her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279'></a>279</span> +well-shaped little head rearing itself in conscious +pride. +</p> +<p> +Polly laughed. “Well, Nolla, we will never +suffer for lack of self-esteem. Even if others declare +we know nothing, you will be able to keep the +family pride up to high-water mark. If we knew +but one-third of all you <em>think</em> we do, we could take +Mr. Ashby in partnership with us, now.” +</p> +<p> +“There’s another thing, Polly, that is a golden +opportunity for us. The idea of having a successful +decorator like Mr. Ashby plan to take us in his +business when we are through school, is enough to +turn anyone’s head. But not ours, Polly—we are +too sensible!” +</p> +<p> +Again Polly laughed at her friend’s meekness—so-called. +“Mr. Ashby may change his mind before +we are ready to accept his offer. We have two +years still in which to study, you know.” +</p> +<p> +“That will fly like these past two years have. +Why here we are only sixteen and just see all we +know!” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, and just see all we have yet to know!” +retorted Polly. +</p> +<p> +“I tell you what, those Saturday mornings we +spent in Mr. Ashby’s sales-rooms were a wonderful +help, eh?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes; I really believe, Nolla, that I learned as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280'></a>280</span> +much of textiles, and fabrics, by simply handling +and selling the materials, as if I had given days to +the study of them.” +</p> +<p> +“It was not only a brilliant idea of Mr. Fabian’s, +to suggest to Mr. Ashby that Ruth and we +two girls be permitted to act as clerks in his rooms, +but it was as kind and generous of Mr. Ashby to +take us. The way he taught us all about different +factories and their best and weakest points in +manufacture; the time he took to demonstrate differences +in lace and silk curtains, the best style of +linen for covers and draperies, the tapestries and +carpets of modern factories—why, I can tell at a +glance now, just whose goods I am handling.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes,” admitted Polly. “How many decorators’ +assistants know the style of upholstery buttons +that ought to be used on a French divan? Or +what shaped button ought to go on a Turkish +chair? I never dreamed that there was any difference, +according to art, between a tufted wing-chair +and one that was smoothly upholstered. I +bet the majority of people select one or the other +because they like the looks, but very few know that +certain lines in a fireside chair demand tufted +upholstery, and another period must never have +buttons or fringe.” +</p> +<p> +“Exactly! That is what I mean, Polly, when I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281'></a>281</span> +say I am sure we two know an awful lot about +decorating, already. It is so.” +</p> +<p> +“Dear old Fabian says, this is our critical year—if +we can manage to pass through the period +between second and third years of study without +discovering that we know it all, we may eventually +hope to become average decorators,” Polly +laughed. +</p> +<p> +“Pooh! We both know Mr. Fabian is a dotard +about us. If anyone dares to hint that we are not +as advanced as he says we are, he glares like a +jealous cat over her kittens.” +</p> +<p> +Polly and Eleanor reached the Studio by this +time and found Anne reading a long letter from +John. She was smiling happily as she read, and +Eleanor grinned charitably at her. +</p> +<p> +Polly sat down to wait till the letter was read. +Then Anne glanced over at the girls. +</p> +<p> +“Well, dears, John has definitely settled everything. +Tom Latimer and he are coming on to New +York directly their college commencement is over. +Polly’s father and mother <em>may</em> decide to come, but +that is not yet certain. As soon as you two girls +are off, we will all go back home and stay.” +</p> +<p> +“‘And they lived happily ever after,’” quoth +Eleanor, teasingly. +</p> +<p> +Anne smiled. Polly seemed dissatisfied. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282'></a>282</span> +</p> +<p> +“What do you mean ‘as soon as you girls are +off?’” +</p> +<p> +“Why, off on the European trip. The Ashbys +were here to-night and it is all settled. Mr. Brewster +wrote a fine letter and thanked them for their +wonderful offer to chaperone you girls.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, oh!” shouted Eleanor, springing up and +throwing her arms about Polly’s neck. +</p> +<p> +Anne and her mother laughed as the impulsive +girl whirled Polly around and around, until both, +exhausted, fell upon the divan. Then Polly asked +the question Eleanor had choked in her throat. +</p> +<p> +“What about John, Anne? Are you going to +Denver or to Pebbly Pit?” +</p> +<p> +“I expect to go to Pebbly Pit, dear,” said Anne, +blushing. +</p> +<p> +“No need to feel embarrassed over it, Anne,” +laughed Eleanor. “It isn’t as if we had never +heard of your plan. Besides we are all in the +family, now—or at least we will be.” +</p> +<p> +“Where does your relationship come in, +Nolla?” asked Mrs. Stewart, quizzically. +</p> +<p> +“Why, didn’t you know, Mother Stewart? I +propose to become Paul’s bride, some day, but he +doesn’t know it, either!” and the irrepressible girl +laughed madly as she ran upstairs to her room. +</p> +<p> +Her friends in the living-room laughed also, but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283'></a>283</span> +Polly doubted that it was said in fun. She rather +suspected Eleanor of receiving many nice letters +from Paul Stewart, during her second year in New +York. But Eleanor kept her own secret. +</p> +<p> +As June entered and schools were all beginning +their examinations, Mrs. Stewart began to clear +up the rooms in the home they had occupied for +two years. Anne’s and her own personal property +were to be packed and sent to Denver. Polly and +Eleanor’s had to be sorted and packed and stored; +the winter clothing in strong moth-proof chests, +and the things they proposed taking abroad with +them, in small steamer trunks. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian had spoken for the lease on the +Studio when Mrs. Stewart’s time expired, and +until then, most of the furniture could remain as +it was. Polly and Eleanor were to have the two +small rooms and live with the Fabians, and Mrs. +Fabian had written that she would buy back the +things as they stood, thus saving everyone trouble +and time. +</p> +<p> +As the days of June passed, Anne had another +letter from John, begging her to come to the +graduation in Chicago. But Polly and Eleanor +needed her in New York, as everything was in a +panic preparing for the ocean voyage, and working +so hard at school, too. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284'></a>284</span> +</p> +<p> +Before the girls knew it, therefore, the westerners +were with them in New York. Mr. and +Mrs. Brewster expected to see Polly off on the +steamer, and John said he had unexpectedly +planned to have Anne marry him before Polly +sailed. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, that will be great! A wedding and a farewell +party all in one,” cried Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +But John took Polly aside and whispered: +“Polly, I want my only sister to witness my marriage +to the best girl living, so you will have to +persuade Anne to look at it as I do.” +</p> +<p> +“All right, John,” laughingly replied Polly. +“I’ll do my best to make her steal my only brother +from me.” +</p> +<p> +Tom Latimer joined them at this moment, and +said to Polly: “You have grown so tall and look +such a fine young lady, that I wonder how Anne +can steal any man from you. Now if I were John, +I should never <em>want</em> to be stolen from you.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Tom!” laughed Polly, greatly amused at +his words. “You talk exactly like Winnie Trevors. +He’s the society pet that expects to marry +Elizabeth Dalken. But you should see him—and +hear him talk!” +</p> +<p> +“Tom Latimer would never thank you for that +left-handed compliment, Polly, if he could but see +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285'></a>285</span> +the slim little dude you compared to him,” said +Eleanor, joining the group. +</p> +<p> +“I believe I do know him, Polly—If he is the +silver-haired lap-dog I went to grammar-school +with.” +</p> +<p> +“Yes—he <em>has</em> got whitish hair, Tom!” laughed +Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +Polly smiled but said nothing. Then Tom said, +“Will you take all that back, Poll, or must I punish +you severely, some day?” +</p> +<p> +“I never take back a word I once have said—unless +I can see where I can benefit myself. You +see, Tom, I have changed woefully, since living in +New York. I am exactly like other citizens here—I +am supremely selfish, these days.” +</p> +<p> +Tom smiled. “I can offer you a bite of attractive +bait. Will you apologise for calling me ‘exactly +like Winnie’ if I tell you a profound secret?” +</p> +<p> +“That depends! What do you call ‘profound,’ +and will I be concerned in hearing it?” teased +Polly. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor had never known Polly to behave so +coquettishly before, and to her astonishment, she +beheld her little model of virtue flirt distractingly +with Tom. Or Eleanor <em>thought</em> Polly was flirting, +when she sent a dazzling look at him from +her wonderful eyes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286'></a>286</span> +</p> +<p> +“It is the secret about the Valentine Roses. At +last I have managed to learn who really sent them +to you.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor perked up. Here was a delightful +situation. Polly had never been able to find out +who had sent the roses, and Tom was ready to +confess. +</p> +<p> +“Oh, really!” exclaimed Polly, eagerly inquisitive. +</p> +<p> +Tom laughed. “Are you concerned? Is it a +profound secret?” +</p> +<p> +“Yes, oh, yes, Tom!” cried Eleanor, excitedly. +“Do tell us what you know.” +</p> +<p> +“But Polly has to show her interest, too. If +she says she is sorry for likening me to Winfield, +I will tell her who sent the roses.” +</p> +<p> +“Is he nice, Tom?” asked Polly, anxiously. +</p> +<p> +“I have heard people <em>say</em> he is, and <em>I</em> think him +great!” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor chuckled. This was a scene after her +own heart. +</p> +<p> +“Is he old—or ugly, Tom?” added Polly. +</p> +<p> +“No—he is young, and not <em>very</em> bad-looking.” +</p> +<p> +Polly thought seriously, then said: “Does he +live in New York?” +</p> +<p> +“I won’t answer any more such questions, Polly, +it isn’t fair unless you do your part,” laughed Tom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287'></a>287</span> +</p> +<p> +“Oh, well, then, please excuse me for ever mentioning +you in the same <em>breath</em> with Winnie,” +giggled Polly. “Now tell me who sent those +roses.” +</p> +<p> +“I will, Polly, but not to-day. I did not promise +to tell you, at once—so I will wait until after +John’s wedding.” +</p> +<p> +Polly stamped her foot as Tom hurried away, +and Eleanor laughed merrily at the hoax. But +there was too much going on all about them, to +bother, now, about roses that were almost two +years old. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Maynard arrived from Chicago in time for +the quiet little wedding at “The Church around +the Corner,” and then everyone went to the Studio +for a reception. John and his bride left for a very +short honeymoon, and later, all thoughts centered +on Polly and Eleanor. It would be their turn to +say good-by in a few days. +</p> +<p> +Tom Latimer outdid himself during the days +intervening between John’s wedding and Polly’s +sailing. Jim and Ken were back from college, but +somehow the two girls who had been such fine +young pals out in the Rockies, and on that Coney +Island trip, now seemed several years older than +these boys. They couldn’t understand it. +</p> +<p> +Mr. Fabian could have explained the change. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288'></a>288</span> +It was mostly psychological, due to the advanced +mental training his girls had received in their study +of a chosen high profession. They truly were far +superior, now, to either of the two boys at Yale, +although they were not aware of it at the time. +</p> +<p> +The day for the sailing of the steamer arrived, +and a gay party stood on the pier just before the +good-bys had to be said. Mrs. Brewster gave +Polly many warnings and advices, and Mr. Maynard +begged Eleanor not to bankrupt him during +her stay in Paris. +</p> +<p> +Books, flowers, fruit and candy, had been piled +up in the arms of Ruth Ashby, Polly and Eleanor, +until they could not shake the extended hands of +their friends when the time came to really say +good-by. +</p> +<p> +“Never mind your hands, we’ll kiss your faces!” +laughed Mr. Maynard, and straightway began +kissing the pretty struggling girls. +</p> +<p> +As everyone in the group was an old friend, +each one took toll of the girls’ cheeks, and just as +Jim Latimer, the last in the line, caught a swift +brush of Ruth’s ear, Tom Latimer strolled up. +</p> +<p> +“Hello, Tom! Where have you been?” called +his father. +</p> +<p> +“Better get your kiss, Tom, or you’ll be left,” +added Jim. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289'></a>289</span> +</p> +<p> +So Tom managed to get his “good-by” from +Ruth and from Eleanor, but Polly blushed furiously, +and reared her head. +</p> +<p> +“If another silly man kisses me, I’ll—I’ll—slap +him!” +</p> +<p> +Of course everyone laughed uproariously at +this, but the guard suddenly shouted, “All +aboard.” And the sailing party rushed up the +gang-plank. +</p> +<p> +Once on deck, however, Polly remembered +something she had meant to ask Tom Latimer. +She leaned over the rail and called back: +</p> +<p> +“Oh, Tom! you never told me who sent the +roses!” +</p> +<p> +“You’ll find out about it when you reach your +stateroom,” shouted Tom, making a megaphone +of his hands. “I met him there, talking to the +steward, and you will know as soon as you go +down.” +</p> +<p> +Eleanor giggled. “That’s where Tom was when +Mr. Dalken dared anyone to take one of his girls +away from him.” +</p> +<p> +“But who could Tom have met in our stateroom, +Nolla? I thought everyone was on the pier +with us?” +</p> +<p> +The steamer had already swung down-stream, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290'></a>290</span> +and the friends on the pier were mere dots, so the +curious girls hurried down to see who had sent +Polly the Valentine roses. Ruth accompanied +them, as she felt she should have been the third +in this girl relationship—like triplets, she said, one +day, to her father. +</p> +<p> +Then the door was opened, and sweet fragrance +greeted the girls. There in a corner of the stateroom +stood a dozen American Beauty roses, each +with a stem almost four feet long. And about the +stems a golden cord was tied, and upon this cord +hung a card. +</p> +<p> +The three girls stood admiring the great crimson +beauties and then Ruth said: “See who they +are from—and who for?” +</p> +<p> +“Why, they’re Polly’s, of course. The same +‘old valentine’ sent them!” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +Polly’s fingers trembled as she bent forward +and read what was written on the card: “Your +Valentine that was, and is, and always will be, in +this world, and in the next, and forever, Tom.” +</p> +<p> +“Oh, no! No! No! No! I won’t have you so, +Tom!” cried Polly, throwing herself in the chair +and covering her face with her hands. Eleanor +and Ruth stood perfectly still, not knowing what +to do or say. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291'></a>291</span> +</p> +<p> +Then Polly lifted her face. She was trying to +smile. “Dear old Tom only did that to tease me. +Isn’t he an old plague?” +</p> +<p> +“I should say he was!” exclaimed Ruth, innocently. +</p> +<p> +Eleanor with the worldly wisdom learned from +her mother, added guilefully: “He sure is. But +you tricked him, Polly.” +</p> +<p> +“How?” eagerly inquired Polly. +</p> +<p> +“He was the only one in the party who didn’t +get a kiss from you!” laughed Eleanor. +</p> +<p> +“That’s so!” admitted Polly, but Eleanor was +not sure whether her friend was sorry or satisfied +at the result. +</p> +<p> +Then, as the days passed, Eleanor noticed that +Polly never mentioned the roses again, but they +were kept as fresh as possible, and weeks later, +Eleanor found one of them carefully pressed with +the card still tied to it. +</p> +<p> +But this discovery, and all that happened during +that Summer in Europe, while visiting famous +places and viewing rare objects of antiquity, are +told in another volume called “Polly and Eleanor +Abroad.” +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p>THE END</p> +</div> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><em>This Isn’t All!</em></p> +</div> +<p> +Would you like to know what +became of the good friends you +have made in this book? +</p> +<p> +Would you like to read other +stories continuing their adventures +and experiences, or other books +quite as entertaining by the same +author? +</p> +<p> +On the <em>reverse side</em> of the wrapper +which comes with this book, +you will find a wonderful list of +stories which you can buy at the +same store where you got this book. +</p> +<div class='center'> +<p><em>Don’t throw away the Wrapper</em></p> +</div> +<p> +Use it as a handy catalog of the books +you want some day to have. But in +case you do mislay it, write to the +Publishers for a complete catalog. +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE POLLY BREWSTER SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY +</p> +<p> +Durably Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +A delightful series for girls in which they will follow +Polly and Eleanor through many interesting +adventures and enjoyable trips to various places in +the United States, Europe and South America. +</p> +<p> + POLLY OF PEBBLY PIT<br /> + POLLY AND ELEANOR<br /> + POLLY IN NEW YORK<br /> + POLLY AND HER FRIENDS ABROAD<br /> + POLLY’S BUSINESS VENTURE<br /> + POLLY’S SOUTHERN CRUISE<br /> + POLLY IN SOUTH AMERICA<br /> + POLLY IN THE SOUTHWEST<br /> + POLLY IN ALASKA<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE OUTDOOR GIRLS SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By LAURA LEE HOPE +</p> +<p> +Author of the “Bobbsey Twins,” “Bunny Brown” Series, Etc. +</p> +<p> +Uniform Style of Binding. Individual Colored Wrappers. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +These are the tales of the various adventures participated +in by a group of bright, fun-loving, up-to-date +girls who have a common bond in their fondness for +outdoor life, camping, travel and adventure. They are +clean and wholesome and free from sensationalism. +</p> +<p> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS OF DEEPDALE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT RAINBOW LAKE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A MOTOR CAR<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN A WINTER CAMP<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN FLORIDA<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT OCEAN VIEW<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN ARMY SERVICE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON PINE ISLAND<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT THE HOSTESS HOUSE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT BLUFF POINT<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT WILD ROSE LODGE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS IN THE SADDLE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AROUND THE CAMPFIRE<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ON CAPE COD<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT FOAMING FALLS<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS ALONG THE COAST<br /> + THE OUTDOOR GIRLS AT SPRING HILL FARM<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE BLYTHE GIRLS BOOKS</span> +</p> +<p> +By LAURA LEE HOPE +</p> +<p> +Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations by +</p> +<p> +THELMA GOOCH +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself +</p> +<p> +The Blythe girls, three in number, were left alone in +New York City. Helen, who went in for art and music, +kept the little flat uptown, while Margy, just out +of a business school, obtained a position as a private +secretary and Rose, plain-spoken and business-like, took +what she called a “job” in a department store. +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN, MARGY AND ROSE +</p> +<p> +A fascinating tale of real happenings in the great metropolis +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY’S QUEER INHERITANCE +</p> +<p> +The Girls had a peculiar old aunt and when she died she left +an unusual inheritance. +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE’S GREAT PROBLEM +</p> +<p> +Rose, still at work in the big department store, is one day faced +with the greatest problem of her life. +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: HELEN’S STRANGE BOARDER +</p> +<p> +Helen goes to the assistance of a strange girl, whose real identity +is a puzzle. Who the girl really was comes as a tremendous +surprise. +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: THREE ON A VACATION +</p> +<p> +The girls go to the country for two weeks—and fall in with all +sorts of curious and exciting happenings. +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: MARGY’S SECRET MISSION +</p> +<p> +Of course we cannot divulge the big secret, but nevertheless +the girls as usual have many exciting experiences. +</p> +<p> +THE BLYTHE GIRLS: ROSE’S ODD DISCOVERY +</p> +<p> +A very interesting story, telling how Rose aided an old man in +the almost hopeless search for his daughter. +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>GIRL SCOUTS SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY +</p> +<p> +Author of the “Polly Brewster Books” +</p> +<p> +Handsomely Bound. Colored Wrappers. Illustrated +</p> +<p> +Each Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +Here is a series that holds the same position for girls that +the Tom Slade and Roy Blakeley books hold for boys. +They are delightful stories of Girl Scout camp life amid +beautiful surroundings and are filled with stirring adventures. +</p> +<p> +GIRL SCOUTS AT DANDELION CAMP +</p> +<p> +This is a story which centers around the making and the +enjoying of a mountain camp, spiced with the fun of a lively +troop of Girl Scouts. The charm of living in the woods, of +learning woodcraft of all sorts, of adventuring into the unknown, +combine to make a busy and an exciting summer +for the girls. +</p> +<p> +GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ADIRONDACKS +</p> +<p> +New scenery, new problems of camping, association with +a neighboring camp of Boy Scouts, and a long canoe trip +with them through the Fulton Chain, all in the setting of +the marvelous Adirondacks, bring to the girls enlargement +of horizon, new development, and new joys. +</p> +<p> +GIRL SCOUTS IN THE ROCKIES +</p> +<p> +On horseback from Denver through Estes Park as far as +the Continental Divide, climbing peaks, riding wild trails, +canoeing through canyons, shooting rapids, encountering a +landslide, a summer blizzard, a sand storm, wild animals, +and forest fires, the girls pack the days full with unforgettable +experiences. +</p> +<p> +GIRL SCOUTS IN ARIZONA AND NEW MEXICO +</p> +<p> +The Girl Scouts visit the mountains and deserts of Arizona +and New Mexico. They travel over the old Sante Fe +trail, cross the Painted Desert, and visit the Grand Canyon. +Their exciting adventures form a most interesting story. +</p> +<p> +GIRL SCOUTS IN THE REDWOODS +</p> +<p> +The girls spend their summer in the Redwoods of California +and incidentally find a way to induce a famous motion +picture director in Hollywood to offer to produce a +film that stars the Girl Scouts of America. +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE LILIAN GARIS BOOKS</span> +</p> +<p> +Attractively Bound. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +Lilian Garis is one of the writers who always wrote. +She expressed herself in verse from early school days and +it was then predicted that Lilian Mack would one day +become a writer. Justifying this sentiment, while still at +high school, she took charge of the woman’s page for a +city paper and her work there attracted such favorable +attention that she left school to take entire charge of +woman’s work for the largest daily in an important +Eastern city. +</p> +<p> +Mrs. Garis turned to girls’ books directly after her +marriage, and of these she has written many. She believes +in girls, studies them and depicts them with pen both +skilled and sympathetic. +</p> +<p> + CLEO’S MISTY RAINBOW<br /> + CLEO’S CONQUEST<br /> + BARBARA HALE: A DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER<br /> + BARBARA HALE AND COZETTE<br /> + GLORIA: A GIRL AND HER DAD<br /> + GLORIA AT BOARDING SCHOOL<br /> + JOAN: JUST GIRL<br /> + JOAN’S GARDEN OF ADVENTURE<br /> + CONNIE LORING’S AMBITION<br /> + CONNIE LORING’S DILEMMA<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, Publishers, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>AMY BELL MARLOWE’S BOOKS FOR GIRLS</span> +</p> +<p> +Charming, Fresh and Original Stories +</p> +<p> +Illustrated. Wrappers Printed in Colors with individual design for each story +</p> +<p> +Miss Marlowe’s books for girls are somewhat of the +type of Miss Alcott and also Mrs. Meade; but all are +thoroughly up-to-date and wholly American in scene +and action. Good, clean absorbing tales that all girls +thoroughly enjoy. +</p> +<p> +<b>THE OLDEST OF FOUR; Or, Natalie’s Way Out.</b> +</p> +<p> +A sweet story of the struggles of a live girl to keep a family from want. +</p> +<p> +<b>THE GIRLS AT HILLCREST FARM; Or, The Secret of the Rocks.</b> +</p> +<p> +Relating the trials of two girls who take boarders on an old farm. +</p> +<p> +<b>A LITTLE MISS NOBODY; Or, With the Girls of Pinewood Hall.</b> +</p> +<p> +Tells of a school girl who was literally a nobody until she solved the +mystery of her identity. +</p> +<p> +<b>THE GIRL FROM SUNSET RANCH; Or, Alone in a Great City.</b> +</p> +<p> +A ranch girl comes to New York to meet relatives she has never seen. +Her adventures make unusually good reading. +</p> +<p> +<b>WYN’S CAMPING DAYS; Or, The Outing of the GO-AHEAD CLUB.</b> +</p> +<p> +A tale of happy days on the water and under canvas, with a touch of +mystery and considerable excitement. +</p> +<p> +<b>FRANCES OF THE RANGES; Or, The Old Ranchman’s Treasure.</b> +</p> +<p> +A vivid picture of life on the great cattle ranges of the West. +</p> +<p> +<b>THE GIRLS OF RIVERCLIFF SCHOOL; Or, Beth Baldwin’s Resolve.</b> +</p> +<p> +This is one of the most entertaining stories centering about a girl’s +school that has ever been written. +</p> +<p> +<b>WHEN ORIOLE CAME TO HARBOR LIGHT.</b> +</p> +<p> +The story of a young girl, cast up by the sea, and rescued by an old +lighthouse keeper. +</p> +<p> +<b>WHEN ORIOLE TRAVELED WESTWARD.</b> +</p> +<p> +Oriole visits the family of a rich ranchman and enjoys herself immensely. +</p> +<p> +<b>WHEN ORIOLE WENT TO BOARDING SCHOOL.</b> +</p> +<p> +How this brave girl bears up under the most trying experiences, makes +a very interesting story. +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>CAROLYN WELLS BOOKS</span> +</p> +<p> +Attractively Bound. Illustrated. Colored Wrappers. +</p> +<p> +THE MARJORIE BOOKS +</p> +<p> +Marjorie is a happy little girl of twelve, up to +mischief, but full of goodness and sincerity. In her +and her friends every girl reader will see much of +her own love of fun, play and adventure. +</p> +<p> + MARJORIE’S VACATION<br /> + MARJORIE’S BUSY DAYS<br /> + MARJORIE’S NEW FRIEND<br /> + MARJORIE IN COMMAND<br /> + MARJORIE’S MAYTIME<br /> + MARJORIE AT SEACOTE<br /> +</p> +<p> +THE TWO LITTLE WOMEN SERIES +</p> +<p> +Introducing Dorinda Fayre—a pretty blonde, +sweet, serious, timid and a little slow, and Dorothy +Rose—a sparkling brunette, quick, elf-like, high +tempered, full of mischief and always getting into +scrapes. +</p> +<p> + TWO LITTLE WOMEN<br /> + TWO LITTLE WOMEN AND TREASURE HOUSE<br /> + TWO LITTLE WOMEN ON A HOLIDAY<br /> +</p> +<p> +THE DICK AND DOLLY BOOKS +</p> +<p> +Dick and Dolly are brother and sister, and their +games, their pranks, their joys and sorrows, are told +in a manner which makes the stories “really true” +to young readers. +</p> +<p> + DICK AND DOLLY<br /> + DICK AND DOLLY’S ADVENTURES<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE HONEY BUNCH BOOKS</span> +</p> +<p> +By HELEN LOUISE THORNDYKE +</p> +<p> +Individual Colored Wrappers and Text Illustrations Drawn by +</p> +<p> +WALTER S. ROGERS +</p> +<p> +A new line of fascinating tales for little girls. Honey +Bunch is a dainty, thoughtful little girl, and to know her +is to take her to your heart at once. +</p> +<p> +HONEY BUNCH: JUST A LITTLE GIRL +</p> +<p> +Happy days at home, helping mamma and the washerlady. And Honey +Bunch helped the house painters too—or thought she did. +</p> +<p> +HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE CITY +</p> +<p> +What wonderful sights Honey Bunch saw when she went to visit her +cousins in New York! And she got lost in a big hotel and wandered into +a men’s convention! +</p> +<p> +HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST DAYS ON THE FARM +</p> +<p> +Can you remember how the farm looked the first time you visited it? +How big the cows and horses were, and what a roomy place to play in the +barn proved to be? +</p> +<p> +HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST VISIT TO THE SEASHORE +</p> +<p> +Honey Bunch soon got used to the big waves and thought playing in the +sand great fun. And she visited a merry-go-round, and took part in a seaside +pageant. +</p> +<p> +HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST LITTLE GARDEN +</p> +<p> +It was great sport to dig and to plant with one’s own little garden tools. +But best of all was when Honey Bunch won a prize at the flower show. +</p> +<p> +HONEY BUNCH: HER FIRST DAYS IN CAMP +</p> +<p> +It was a great adventure for Honey Bunch when she journeyed to Camp +Snapdragon. It was wonderful to watch the men erect the tent, and more +wonderful to live in it and have good times on the shore and in the water. +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE BOBBSEY TWINS BOOKS</span> +</p> +<p> +For Little Men and Women +</p> +<p> +By LAURA LEE HOPE +</p> +<p> +Author of “The Bunny Brown Series,” Etc. +</p> +<p> +Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +These books for boys and girls between the ages of three +and ten stands among children and their parents of this +generation where the books of Louisa May Alcott stood in +former days. The haps and mishaps of this inimitable pair +of twins, their many adventures and experiences are a +source of keen delight to imaginative children everywhere. +</p> +<p> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE COUNTRY<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE SEASHORE<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SCHOOL<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT SNOW LODGE<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON A HOUSEBOAT<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT MEADOW BROOK<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT HOME<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN A GREAT CITY<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON BLUEBERRY ISLAND<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS ON THE DEEP BLUE SEA<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS IN THE GREAT WEST<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CEDAR CAMP<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT THE COUNTY FAIR<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS CAMPING OUT<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AND BABY MAY<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS KEEPING HOUSE<br /> + THE BOBBSEY TWINS AT CLOVERBANK<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE BUNNY BROWN SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By LAURA LEE HOPE +</p> +<p> +Author of the Popular “Bobbsey Twins” Books, Etc. +</p> +<p> +Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +These stories are eagerly welcomed by the little folks +from about five to ten years of age. Their eyes fairly dance +with delight at the lively doings of inquisitive little Bunny +Brown and his cunning, trustful sister Sue. +</p> +<p> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON GRANDPA’S FARM<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE PLAYING CIRCUS<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CAMP-REST-A-WHILE<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT AUNT LU’S CITY HOME<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE BIG WOODS<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON AN AUTO TOUR<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR SHETLAND PONY<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE GIVING A SHOW<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT CHRISTMAS TREE COVE<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE IN THE SUNNY SOUTH<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE KEEPING STORE<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AND THEIR TRICK DOG<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE AT A SUGAR CAMP<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON THE ROLLING OCEAN<br /> + BUNNY BROWN AND HIS SISTER SUE ON JACK FROST ISLAND<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>SIX LITTLE BUNKERS SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By LAURA LEE HOPE +</p> +<p> +Author of The Bobbsey Twins Books, The Bunny +Brown Series, The Blythe Girls Books, Etc. +</p> +<p> +Durably Bound. Illustrated. Uniform Style of Binding. +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +Delightful stories for little boys and girls which sprung +into immediate popularity. To know the six little Bunkers +is to take them at once to your heart, they are so intensely +human, so full of fun and cute sayings. Each story has a +little plot of its own—one that can be easily followed—and +all are written in Miss Hope’s most entertaining manner. +Clean, wholesome volumes which ought to be on the bookshelf +of every child in the land. +</p> +<p> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDMA BELL’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT AUNT JO’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COUSIN TOM’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT GRANDPA FORD’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT UNCLE FRED’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT CAPTAIN BEN’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT COWBOY JACK’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MAMMY JUNE’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT FARMER JOEL’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT MILLER NED’S<br /> + SIX LITTLE BUNKERS AT INDIAN JOHN’S<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>THE RIDDLE CLUB BOOKS</span> +</p> +<p> +By ALICE DALE HARDY +</p> +<p> +Individual Colored Wrappers. Attractively Illustrated. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +Here is as ingenious a series of books for little folks as +has ever appeared since “Alice in Wonderland.” The idea +of the Riddle books is a little group of children—three girls +and three boys decide to form a riddle club. Each book is +full of the adventures and doings of these six youngsters, +but as an added attraction each book is filled with a lot of +the best riddles you ever heard. +</p> +<p> +THE RIDDLE CLUB AT HOME +</p> +<p> +An absorbing tale that all boys and girls will enjoy reading. +How the members of the club fixed up a clubroom in the Larue +barn, and how they, later on, helped solve a most mysterious +happening, and how one of the members won a valuable prize, +is told in a manner to please every young reader. +</p> +<p> +THE RIDDLE CLUB IN CAMP +</p> +<p> +The club members went into camp on the edge of a beautiful +lake. Here they had rousing good times swimming, boating +and around the campfire. They fell in with a mysterious old man +known as The Hermit of Triangle Island. Nobody knew his +real name or where he came from until the propounding of a +riddle solved these perplexing questions. +</p> +<p> +THE RIDDLE CLUB THROUGH THE HOLIDAYS +</p> +<p> +This volume takes in a great number of sports, including +skating and sledding and the building of a huge snowman. +It also gives the particulars of how the club treasurer lost the +dues entrusted to his care and what the melting of the great +snowman revealed. +</p> +<p> +THE RIDDLE CLUB AT SUNRISE BEACH +</p> +<p> +This volume tells how the club journeyed to the seashore and +how they not only kept up their riddles but likewise had good +times on the sand and on the water. Once they got lost in a fog +and are marooned on an island. Here they made a discovery +that greatly pleased the folks at home. +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> +<p> + <br /> + <br /> + <br /> +</p> +<p> +<span style='font-size:1.2em;font-weight:bold;'>JERRY TODD AND POPPY OTT SERIES</span> +</p> +<p> +By LEO EDWARDS +</p> +<p> +Durably Bound. Illustrated. Individual Colored Wrappers. +</p> +<p> +Every Volume Complete in Itself. +</p> +<p> +Hundreds of thousands of boys who laughed until their +sides ached over the weird and wonderful adventures of +Jerry Todd and his gang demanded that Leo Edwards, +the author, give them more books like the Jerry Todd +stories with their belt-bursting laughs and creepy shivers. +So he took Poppy Ott, Jerry Todd’s bosom chum and +created the Poppy Ott Series, and if such a thing could be +possible—they are even more full of fun and excitement +than the Jerry Todds. +</p> +<p> + THE POPPY OTT SERIES<br /> + POPPY OTT AND THE STUTTERING PARROT<br /> + POPPY OTT AND THE SEVEN LEAGUE STILTS<br /> + POPPY OTT AND THE GALLOPING SNAIL<br /> + POPPY OTT’S PEDIGREED PICKLES<br /> + <br/> + THE JERRY TODD BOOKS<br /> + JERRY TODD AND THE WHISPERING MUMMY<br /> + JERRY TODD AND THE ROSE-COLORED CAT<br /> + JERRY TODD AND THE OAK ISLAND TREASURE<br /> + JERRY TODD AND THE WALTZING HEN<br /> + JERRY TODD AND THE TALKING FROG<br /> + JERRY TODD AND THE PURRING EGG<br /> + JERRY TODD IN THE WHISPERING CAVE<br /> +</p> +<p> +GROSSET & DUNLAP, <span class='sc'>Publishers</span>, NEW YORK +</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Polly in New York, by Lillian Elizabeth Roy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY IN NEW YORK *** + +***** This file should be named 37459-h.htm or 37459-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/4/5/37459/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from images made available by the HathiTrust +Digital Library.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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