NAN'S PROBLEM.
That morning when Nan had been in the village of San Seritos, she
deposited in the bank the money which Miss Ursula had left in her
keeping. The interest from the few thousand dollars would be sufficient,
the girl thought, to provide comforts and even some luxuries for Miss
Dahlia, but the necessities Nan wished to earn, knowing that if they used
the principal, it would soon be necessary to tell Miss Dahlia of the lost
fortune, and the home which the little old lady so dearly loved, would
have to be sold.
Before leaving Pine Crest Nan had talked the matter over with Mrs. Dorsey
and that kindly woman had written a letter telling whoever might be
interested that in her opinion Nan Barrington was competent to teach the
younger children all of the required studies, as well as languages and
the harp.
The girl was confident that she could obtain a position as governess but
that would necessitate hiring a maid or leaving Miss Dahlia alone, and
neither of these things did she wish to do.
A week had passed when one morning Nan sitting on the sunny veranda
reading the paper chanced to see in the want column something which she
thought that she would like to investigate.
Miss Dahlia was still asleep and Mrs. Sperry gladly took her sewing up to
the big house while Nan rode away on Binnie.
She had not far to go, for a quarter of a mile down the coast highway was
a group of picturesque bungalows about a small hotel called Miracielo.
Here each summer wealthy folk from the inland country came and took up
their abode. This year it chanced that there were many young children
among the tourists, and Mrs. Welton, manager of the exclusive hotel, had
advertised for someone who would both instruct and entertain the little
guests.
Nan was admitted to Mrs. Welton's reception room and almost immediately a
pleasant woman of refinement appeared and graciously welcomed the
visitor. Nan explained her mission and showed the letter from Mrs.
Dorsey.
"This is indeed interesting," Mrs. Welton exclaimed. "My niece, Daisy
Wells, attends that school and in her letters she has often mentioned Nan
Barrington." Then the kindly woman hesitated as though not quite certain
that she ought to voice the thought that had come to her. Finally she
said: "You will pardon me, I know, for mentioning a matter so personal,
but I have always understood that your aunt possessed great wealth. Will
she be willing that you entertain these little ones?"
Nan, after a moment's thought, decided to tell Mrs. Welton the whole
truth and that good woman was much impressed in favor of the girl who was
trying in every way to keep the frail Miss Dahlia Barrington from a
knowledge of the loss.
"It would not be possible for me to come each day to Miracielo," Nan
said, "but we have such a delightful rustic house in our garden; do you
suppose, Mrs. Welton, that the children might come there each afternoon
if I can persuade Aunt Dahlia to think favorably of my plan?"
"I do indeed," the pleased woman smilingly agreed. "That is the time when
many of my guests desire to rest, and they would be glad to have the
children away. If their mothers consent, I can send the little ones to
you in our car every day."
Nan arose, her dark eyes glowing. "I thank you Mrs. Welton," she said,
"and tomorrow I will let you know if I have won my aunt's consent to the
plan."
That afternoon the gypsy girl broached the subject of the little class
almost timidly, and her aunt said lovingly, "But, Nan, darling, don't you
realize that all I have is also yours? You do not need to earn money."
"Dear Aunt Dahlia," the girl replied with sudden tears in her eyes, "I
well know that whatever you have, you wish to share with me, but truly I
would just love to try teaching for a short time."
"My Nan seems to wish to make many experiments," the little old lady said
merrily. "Is not housekeeping enough?" Then, noting an expression of
disappointment in the face of the girl, she added, "Bring your flock of
children to our garden, if you wish dearie, I, too, will enjoy having
them here."
And so, the very next afternoon a dozen boys and girls, the oldest not
seven, appeared, and though, for a time, some of them seemed shy, Nan
soon won their confidence and had them merrily romping on a velvety
stretch of lawn which she had chosen for a playground. Then when they
were weary, they went into the vine-covered rustic house, and, sitting
about the long table, they played quiet games that were both instructive
and amusing.
After receiving her first week's check, Nan visited the town and
purchased books and materials that would assist her in teaching and
entertaining her little "guests."
Happy times Miss Dahlia and Nan had in the long evenings as they sat in
the cheerfully lighted library reading these books, and then they would
try to weave a pattern from gaily colored wools or bright strips of paper
according to the instructions. The next day that particular pattern would
be the one that Nan would show the children how to make.
One afternoon Miss Dahlia wandered out to the rustic house during this
rest period, and, sitting at one end of the table she assisted a darling
five-year-old to make a paper mat of glowing colors.
"See, Miss Nan," the little fairy called joyously when the task was done,
"see my pitty mat! May I take it home to show muvver?"
"Yes indeed, dearies, you may all take home whatever you make," their
young teacher told them.
"I wish we could make doggies or elphunts," one small boy said. And that
night Miss Dahlia and Nan hunted through the books for instructions on
"elphunt" making, but failed to find them. Then Nan, not wishing to
disappoint the little lad, brought forth scissors and cardboard and after
many amusing failures, at last cut out a figure which Miss Dahlia
laughingly assured the artist could be recognized as an "elphunt" at a
single glance. They then cut out a dozen that the children might each
have a pattern.
The little boy was delighted because his suggestion had been followed.
Nan showed them how to make their card-board animals stand, and soon they
had a long procession of rather queerly shaped "elphunts" and dogs all
the way down the length of the table. The pleased children clapped their
hands gleefully, and one little girl looked up with laughing eyes as she
said: "Miss Nan, it's as nice as a party every day, isn't it?"
Sometimes the older girl, watching these children of the rich as they
romped about on the velvety lawn, recalled another picture of the long
ago. A group of dark-haired, dark-skinned, fox-like little creatures
scrambling and rolling over each other as puppies do, but, when Nan had
appeared, they had left their play and raced to meet her with
outstretched arms.
How she would like to see them all again. Nan's life was happy but
uneventful. The beautiful sunny, summery days passed and Nan's little
class never wearied of the "Party-school."
Then all at once unexpected and surprising, events followed close, one
after another.