The weeks passed rapidly to the young workers, who found each day full
of experiments, sometimes developing into satisfactory results and again
filled with bitter discouragement. There were days when the battle for
existence threatened to overweigh and submerge them; days when from
morning till night their work seemed possessed by evil demons, and
everything went wrong; days when despair tugged at their hearts, and the
old happy life forced itself in upon their thoughts with clamorous
persistence. And ah! how they felt the sorrow of their father's
helplessness, the loss of his companionship causing an ache that nothing
could assuage! But through it all they fought their way, upheld by the
longing to show a spirit worthy of their father's daughters, sustained
by the consciousness that by their own endeavor they were "making a home
for Dad." This was the dominant note of the new life--like a bugle-call
stirring them to action!
Julie, who had been reading aloud to her father one day, suddenly went
into the next room to find Hester, and exclaimed, "Thackeray says, 'I
would not curse my fortune--I'd make it!' I think that's great, Hester!
We'll take it for a motto." And by that motto ever after they abided.
Mr. Dale had not awakened to any definite consciousness of his
condition, as Dr. Ware had anticipated, but remained in a passive,
tranquil state, taking little heed and no part in any conversation,
though his face brightened perceptibly whenever any one entered the
room. Much of the day he slept, but during his waking hours one of the
girls was constantly with him, hovering about with a tender protective
air.
Dr. Ware, who devoted all his spare time to his old friend, was a
frequent and most welcome visitor. He was a man of distinguished
presence, tall and well-knit, with the military bearing of a soldier and
some ten years younger than Mr. Dale, although they had served in the
War of the Rebellion together. Streaks of gray showed plentifully in his
hair and pointed beard, throwing into greater contrast his black brows
and blue-black eyes, while his face was marked with strong lines
indicative of character. It was an interesting face and one that
inspired immediate confidence, and in addition there was about him an
indefinable charm which made itself felt both professionally and
socially, so that there was not a more popular man in Radnor. This was
perhaps an unusual position for a man of strong convictions, expressed
fearlessly and freely on all subjects. To be thoroughly popular commonly
requires an adaptable temperament not compatible with strong
individuality.
He watched over "his girls" as he called them, with affectionate
solicitude mingled with an admiration and respect which knew no bounds.
"They are going to succeed," he would frequently say to himself after
leaving them, "every failure only makes them more determined--it's fine
to watch the growth of such spirit." And then he would drive off on his
round of visits with a preoccupied air and vague longings would steal in
upon him, softening the lines about his mouth and eyes and lingering
deliciously in his mind even after he had roused himself impatiently
from such day-dreams.
The girls' experiments in making mayonnaise resulted in Julie's screwing
up her courage one day and going to the leading grocery of Radnor. She
asked for the proprietor and laid before him her scheme, at the same
time showing him a sample of the mayonnaise. Poor Julie, who did not
know what it meant to cry her wares in open market, felt very
uncomfortable and flushed quite red as she talked; but she struggled to
overcome her timidity and succeeded in interesting the man, who told her
to leave her sample for him to try at home and gave her some valuable
information about putting up such an article in the regulation form,
suggesting that she follow his directions and bring in the mayonnaise
again, bottled and labeled for his inspection.
Busy days those were indeed in "The Hustle," for in addition to trying
varieties of cake, the mayonnaise suggested making salads and one thing
led to another with surprising rapidity.
It gradually began to be recognized in Radnor that if one wanted any
delicacy in the way of fancy cooking, one should order it from "those
Dale girls," and this recognition was in no small part due to Mrs.
Lennox, the President of _the_ Sewing Class. It was she who had sent
them their first order and shown a marked interest in their work which
was not without its immediate effect, for people occupied in their
relation to Mrs. Lennox a position similar to that of "Mary's little
lamb." Mrs. Lennox was a beautiful woman and in the fashionable world
her word was law; but society amused rather than interested her, and her
keen intellect and strong individuality led her into devious paths.
Above all she was a philanthropist in that broad and humanitarian sense
which sees promise in all gradations of men and women.
She followed her first order to the girls with a second by mail; then a
little correspondence ensued, in which she suggested their sending her
any new thing they might be trying. A few weeks later she "blew over,"
as she expressed it, and said in her charming way to Julie, as if she
had known her intimately for years:
"My dear, are you busy enough?"
"No indeed, Mrs. Lennox, we never could be busy enough--we want to do so
much."
"So I thought." She threw back her furs and unclasping a big bunch of
violets tossed them into the girl's lap. "You like them, don't you? So
do I. I adore violets. I am raising white ones now and I will send you
over some if I may."
"Oh, how good of you! Daddy loves them too. We always used to have
flowers wherever we were and we do miss them so. I don't see how you
suspected it, Mrs. Lennox."
"I am rather keen about human nature, my dear, and it occurs to me that
even though you do cook, you may have a love and longing for the
beautiful."
Julie smiled. It was so comfortable to talk with some one who understood
them. "Miss Ware would not agree with you," she said. "She considers us
lost to the finer things, beyond redemption. She dislikes us, you know,
and we never go there; but she comes here sometimes and asks us all
sorts of questions and wants to know about our recipes and things as if
we could not comprehend any other subject. Hester calls it 'talking
shop' and we hate it--not the work but the being excluded from other
things."
"I understand perfectly. Miss Ware is a bit, well, narrow, like most
Radnor people. So you are not busy enough?" eyeing her curiously; "well
then, I have a suggestion. If you want to cater for the town, send out
cards."
Julie gasped. "Business cards, you mean, soliciting orders?"
"Exactly. You do a variety of things already--think up and experiment
with more until you get an imposing little list, have cards printed and
send them about--at least five hundred, I should say. Radnor is a large
place and cliquey--there must be numbers of persons unknown to me who
have never heard of you girls, yet would be likely to give you their
custom. If my name on the cards by way of indorsement would be of any
advantage, you are more than welcome to use it."
"Oh! thank you, of course it would be a great advantage, Mrs. Lennox,
for no one knows us at all, you see. I'm--I'm dazed by your idea--it
seems so pretentious--so bold to advertise ourselves. I don't believe we
should ever have thought of it, but it _is_ the thing to do."
"Decidedly. I know something about business and you have one of the most
necessary qualifications for success--indefatigable zeal--and I want to
push you along. But you must not overtax your strength. I suppose you
have heard that before, eh, Miss Dale?" She laughed musically. "No doubt
kindly disposed persons come here to leave orders and tell you not to
work too hard."
"Yes, they do," Julie earnestly replied. "I wish they would not. Just as
if we did not have to work with all our might and main, and it is not
easy--always."
"Easy! I should think not!" Mrs. Lennox rose and smiled into Julie's
grave eyes as she held out her hand to say good-by. "I am going now, but
I want to come again and meet your sister too. May I? I should so like
to know you and be your friend."
Julie impulsively kissed her. "It is so good to find some one who wants
to know us--in spite of everything," she faltered.
"It is because of everything, my dear," giving the girl an impetuous
little hug. Which demonstration would greatly have astonished the smart
set of Radnor to whom this side of their leader was unknown and
unsuspected.
It was about this time that the girls got the mayonnaise put up to their
satisfaction, for innumerable perplexities had arisen in the matter of
suitable bottles, corks and labels. When finally Julie had submitted the
result to the grocer and that all-powerful man had ordered a dozen
bottles to sell on commission, the girls felt that they were working to
some purpose, and a glow akin to honest pride surged in their hearts.
But the sensation swelled to overwhelming proportions when late one
afternoon Julie, passing the store, spied in the great show-window a
group of their bottles standing boldly alongside the firm's best fancy
articles. She gasped, scarcely daring to look at them, and rushed home
to tell Hester.
But when she got home she did not tell Hester. Instead she said: "Put on
your things and come out before it grows dark--the air will do you
good."
"Can't," said Hester, deep in a book, "I'm too tired to move."
"I want to show you something."
"Where?" reading on.
"In a shop window."
"Julie Dale, what's the matter?" she exclaimed, dropping her book. "I'm
sure you've got a crazy look about you--your hat's on crooked!"
"I don't care, I think you would want to throw _your_ hat in the air if
you had seen it!"
"Seen what? A shop window? I hate them--they're just full of tantalizing
things one wants and can't have!"
"Well, this isn't--or perhaps it is--I am sure I don't know, but I came
way back after you and oh! do come."
"You are responsible for great expectations," said Hester, reluctantly
getting up from the bed. "I call it a most unchristian act to rout me
out like this."
But she took another view of it when she found herself out in the brisk
wintry air, and she caught some of the exhilaration of her sister's gay
spirits as they went along, Peter Snooks racing wildly about them.
When they approached the window of the grocery Julie's heart beat
rapidly in anticipation of Hester's surprise. As they reached it she
suddenly pulled her arm and led her close to the window. "Look!" she
said excitedly but in a low voice, for many persons were passing and
some few stood near them.
There it was, the mayonnaise into which they had put their best
endeavor, standing in so conspicuous a place that it could not fail to
attract the attention of the passers-by.
"New thing, that mayonnaise, isn't it?" they heard a man say to his
companion, "well put up--let's go in and look at it."
Hester gazed speechless into the window, her eyes nearly bulging out of
her head.
"Would you ever have believed it!" whispered Julie, poking her. "Let's
wait," as she saw a clerk lean into the window and take down a bottle,
"let's wait and see if those people buy it."
"No we won't," said Hester, finding her voice at last. She clutched her
sister's arm convulsively. "We'll go straight home before I scream with
joy right here on the corner."
"You don't like shop windows, do you?" said Julie with a happy laugh.
In the exuberance of their spirits and with a desire to impart the good
news to their neighbors, whom they now counted as friends, the girls
stopped at the Grahame's on their way upstairs.
"Jack," exclaimed Hester the impetuous, "Jack, what do you suppose has
happened?"
"By the look of you I should say you'd inherited a fortune."
"Pouf!" disdainfully, "that is commonplace." She clapped her hands
together while her eyes danced merrily. "Try again, Jack."
"May I have a guess, Miss Dale?" said a voice that made the girl start,
while a long, lazy form emerged from the corner.
Hester's manner changed instantly, and her eyes sought Jack's
questioningly, as if she were asking some explanation. Then she turned
to the man who stood quietly watching her.
"How do you do, Mr. Landor?" she said with a stiff little formality that
was unlike Hester, "I did not know you and Jack were friends."
"May I be presented?" asked Julie, coming forward; "I seem to be quite
out of it."
Jack from his chair in his capacity of host performed the introduction.
"Will _you_ let me guess?" said the man, addressing Julie as if there
had been no interruption. "Your sister refuses to answer me."
"You certainly will not let him guess," promptly replied Hester.
"Curiosity is a shockingly reprehensible trait and besides," with a
little toss of her head, "our affairs cannot possibly be of interest to
Mr. Landor."
The man flushed and picked up his hat. "I am off, old fellow," he said
to Jack. "I'll be in again before a great while."
"Oh, don't let us drive you away, please, Mr. Landor," protested Julie,
who was secretly marveling over that cool little sarcastic voice which
she had scarcely recognized as Hester's. "We had only a moment to stop
and we can come down again any time; we know what a great pleasure it is
to Jack to have visitors, don't we, Hester?"
Julie had her hand on the door.
[Illustration: "MAY I HAVE A GUESS, MISS DALE?"]
"You will do what she asks, I am sure, Mr. Landor," said Hester. It did
not escape him that she shifted the responsibility to her sister. "Julie
always arranges things perfectly. We really should be at home this very
minute." And waving her hand at the astonished Jack, she followed in the
wake of her sister.
"Hester," exclaimed Julie, in the seclusion of their own apartment,
"what made you so rude to Mr. Landor? I never heard you speak like that
to any one before."
"Oh! Julie," cried the younger girl, flinging herself down in a chair,
"I've the most disgusting, beastly temper!"
"You've nothing of the sort!" denied her sister indignantly.
"I have. You don't know anything about it, it's--it's just developing. I
get all hot inside; sometimes it breaks out the way it did at Miss
Ware's and to-day it made me nasty and sarcastic. I've always hated
sarcastic people!"
"What has Mr. Landor done, dear, to make you dislike him so? I thought
he seemed most charming and agreeable."
"Did you?" indifferently, leaning back in her chair. Suddenly she sat
bolt upright and exclaimed vehemently, "Julie Dale, if you dare to take
to singing his praises as Dr. Ware does I'll--I'll--well, I don't know
what I'll do! I hate him, with his smiling, masterful air and his prying
into affairs which are none of his business." (This seemed rather strong
language, but Julie did not interrupt her.) "He is an idle society man
and we are hard-working girls. He has nothing in common with us
whatever. We've no use for men, anyway--they don't belong to the sort of
life we live, they--they don't fit into our scheme of things. Rather
neat, that last phrase, eh, Julie? Read it in a book." As usual,
Hester's outburst ended in a laugh.
"Are you twenty years old," said Julie stooping down to kiss the flushed
face, "or two hundred, Hester?"
"I'm an end-of-the-century idiot, that's what I am!" she replied,
pulling Julie over to give her a suffocating hug. Then in that
irrelevant fashion so characteristic of her she threw back her head and
sniffed the air suspiciously.
"Julie!"
But Julie had slipped away.
Hester chased her into the little dining-room. "Julie Dale! do I smell
steak?" Hester's nostrils fairly quivered.
"You do. I plunged into that wild extravagance on the strength of the
mayonnaise, and I don't care what you say!"
"Say!" gasped Hester as Bridget brought in this unheard of luxury, "I
only want to eat!"