A SUDDEN DETERMINATION
One afternoon, Dorothy sat on the front veranda, day-dreaming.
It was difficult to say which was the front veranda,--the one that faced
the road, or the one that looked out on the lake. The house could be
considered to front either way.
But Dorothy was on the veranda that faced the road, and it was a lovely
warm, hazy day, almost the last of June, and notwithstanding her
responsibilities, Dorothy was in a happy frame of mind.
She watched with interest, a carriage that was coming along the road
towards her. It was nothing unusual in the way of a carriage, but there
was so little passing, that anything on four wheels was always
noticeable. This was a buggy, and contained a lady and gentleman who
seemed to be driving slowly and talking fast.
To Dorothy's surprise, when they reached the entrance of the Dorrance
Domain, they turned in, and drove up towards the house.
As they stopped in front of the steps, Dorothy rose to greet them; but
though courteous in manner, beyond bestowing a pleasant smile, they took
no notice of her. The gentleman got out first, then helped the lady out,
and after a blank look around for a moment, as if expecting somebody, he
threw his lines carelessly around the whip and escorted the lady into
the house.
The doors were all open as usual, and Dorothy was so amazed to see them
walk past her, that she said nothing.
Grandma Dorrance was lying down in her room; the twins had gone out
rowing, and Fairy was down at the dock with Mr. Hickox, fishing.
The two servants were far away in the kitchen, and so the strangers
walked through the great hall and out on the west veranda without seeing
anybody.
Nonplussed, they returned to the office, and noted the unused look of
the desks and counters there.
"Where do you suppose the clerk can be?" said the gentleman.
"Let us ask that young girl on the veranda," said the lady, and together
they returned to where Dorothy was sitting.
"Excuse me," said the strange gentleman, "but can you tell me where I
may find the clerk of this hotel?"
"There isn't any clerk," said Dorothy, smiling, as she rose to greet
them.
"Then will you tell me where I can find the proprietor?"
Like a flash, an inspiration came to Dorothy. She realized in an instant
that these people were looking for board; and equally quickly came the
thought that she might take them to board, and so earn some of the money
that she had been worrying about. It would certainly be no more
difficult to have boarders than visitors.
And so, on the impulse of the moment, Dorothy replied:
"I am the proprietor."
"But I mean the proprietor of the hotel,--the owner of the place."
"My grandmother is the owner of this hotel; and if anybody is proprietor
of it, I am. May I ask if you are looking for board?"
"Yes, we are," said the lady, impulsively; "and if you are the
proprietor, I'm quite sure we want board at this hotel."
"Will you sit down, and let us talk this matter over," said Dorothy,
offering them veranda chairs. "I would like to explain just how things
are."
The strangers seated themselves, and looked at Dorothy with some
curiosity and a great deal of interest. It was certainly unusual to come
across a pretty girl of sixteen, who, in her ruffled lawn frock looked
quite like the typical guest of a summer hotel, and then to be calmly
told that she was the proprietor.
Dorothy also looked with interest at her visitors. The man was tall and
large, of perhaps middle age; his face was kind and serious, but a smile
seemed to lurk in his deep blue eyes. The lady seemed to be younger,
and was very pretty and vivacious. She had curly brown hair, and her
brown eyes fairly danced with fun at the idea of Dorothy as a hotel
proprietor.
"You see," said Dorothy, as they all sat down, "this hotel is my
grandmother's property; but as we couldn't rent it, we have all come
here to live for the summer. My grandmother is quite old, and not at all
strong, so the household management is entirely in my charge. I would be
very glad to take some boarders if I could satisfy them and make them
comfortable. I have never kept boarders, but," and here Dorothy's smile
brought out all her dimples, "I have entertained company successfully."
"I should be delighted to come," exclaimed the lady, "if you are quite
sure you want us, and if your grandmother would not object."
"Oh, no, she would not object; the question is, whether I could make
your stay satisfactory to you. We have plenty of room; I could promise
you a good table and good service. But as there are no other guests,
you might be lonely."
"We are not afraid of being lonely," said the gentleman, "for my wife
and I are not dependent on the society of other people. But let me
introduce myself before going further; I am Mr. James Faulkner, of New
York City. Mrs. Faulkner and myself have been staying over at the Horton
House, and that hotel is far too gay and noisy to suit our tastes. I'm a
scientific man, and like to spend much of my day in quiet study. Mrs.
Faulkner, too, likes to be away from society's demands, at least for a
season. Therefore I must confess your proposition sounds most
attractive, if the minor details can be arranged."
"I am Dorothy Dorrance," Dorothy responded, by way of her own
introduction, "and my grandfather was Robert Hampton Dorrance. He has
been dead for two years, and he left us this hotel property, which as we
have been unable to rent, we decided to occupy. I would be glad to add
to our income, and if you think you could be comfortable here, might we
not try it for a week?"
"Oh, do let us try it," cried Mrs. Faulkner, eagerly; "do say yes,
James,--this is such a lovely spot, and this hotel is quite the most
attractive I have seen anywhere. Only fancy having no other guests but
ourselves! it would be ideal. Oh, we must certainly come! I will decide
it; we will come for a week at any rate."
"Very well, my dear, you shall have your own way. May I ask your rates,
Miss Dorrance?"
Dorothy hesitated. She felt very inexperienced, and while she was
fearful of over-charging, yet her practical instincts made her also
beware of undervaluing the accommodations she knew she could supply.
"I don't know," she said, frankly, "what I ought to charge you. But you
may have the best rooms in the house, and,"--here she smiled,
involuntarily,--"as many of them as you wish. We have a really superior
cook, and an experienced waitress. We have boats, and a horse and
carriage, which you may use when you care to. As I know nothing of
summer hotel charges, I would be glad if you would tell me what you
think would be right for you to pay."
Dorothy's frank honesty, and her gentle refined courtesy made a most
favorable impression on Mr. Faulkner, and he responded cordially.
"For what you offer, Miss Dorrance, I think it would be fair if we
should pay you the same as we are now paying over at the Horton House;
that is, fifteen dollars a week, each, for Mrs. Faulkner and myself."
Dorothy considered a moment. She was a quick thinker, and she realized
that this amount of money would help considerably towards the living
expenses of the family. And the price could not be exorbitant since Mr.
Faulkner offered it himself.
"That will be entirely satisfactory to me," she said, "and I shall hope,
on my part, to satisfy you. When would you like to come?"
"I'd like to come to-morrow," said Mrs. Faulkner. "I've stood the Horton
House just as long as I can. And our week is up to-morrow. But, excuse
me, my dear, aren't you very young for these responsibilities?"
"I'm sixteen," said Dorothy, "and grandmother thinks my talents are of
the domestic order. But I could not undertake to have you here were it
not that our cook is not merely a cook, but a general manager and
all-round housekeeper. And now, Mrs. Faulkner, if you really think of
coming, wouldn't you like to select your rooms?"
Just at this moment, Fairy came flying through the long hall at her
usual break-neck pace, and landed turbulently in the midst of the group.
"Oh, Dorothy," she cried, "we caught fish, and fish, and fish!"
"This is my sister Fairy," said Dorothy, "and I must explain, that when
I said it would be quiet here, I neglected to mention that there are
four of us children; and the truth is we are dreadfully noisy at times.
Fairy, dear, this is Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner, who are perhaps coming to
board with us."
With the pretty politeness that always underlay the boisterousness of
the Dorrances, Fairy put out her hand to the strangers, saying: "I'm
very glad to see you. Are you really coming to stay with us? You must
'scuse me for rushing out like that, and nearly knocking you over, but I
was so 'cited about my fish."
Fairy always looked more than usually fairy-like when she was excited.
Her gold curls tumbled about her face, and the big white bow which
topped them stood at all sorts of flyaway angles. She poised herself on
one foot, and waved her hands dramatically as she talked.
Mrs. Faulkner was charmed with the child, and being possessed of some
artistic ability, she privately resolved to make a sketch of Fairy at
the first opportunity.
The two sisters escorted the guests through the hall, if Fairy's hop,
skip and jump could be called an escort, and Dorothy showed them the
lake view from the west piazza.
Mrs. Faulkner was enthusiastic over this, and declared that nothing
would induce her to stay anywhere else but at the Dorrance Domain.
Mr. Faulkner, too, was impressed by the beauty of the lake. It was
always most picturesque in the late afternoon, and just now the clouds,
lit up by the western sun, were especially beautiful. The lake itself
was not calm, but was covered with smooth little hills of water, which
here and there broke into white foam.
Some distance out, a boat could be seen, containing two people.
"That's my brother and sister," said Dorothy; "they are twins. They are
fourteen, and are perhaps the noisiest of us all. You see," she went on,
smiling, "I'm preparing you for the worst. Grandmother had great
difficulty with the New York boarding-house keepers, because they
thought the Dorrance children too lively. So I want you to be fully
warned that we do make a great deal of noise. Somehow we can't help it."
"We don't yell so much as we used to," said Fairy, hopefully; "you see,
Mrs. Faulkner, when we used to be cooped up in a boarding-house we just
had to make an awful racket, 'cause we were so miserabubble. But here we
have room enough to scamper around, and so we don't holler so much."
"I rather think we can survive your demonstrations of animal spirits,"
said Mr. Faulkner, with his kindly smile. "It will be a pleasant relief
from the brass band which is the noise-producer over at the Horton
House."
"We haven't any brass band," said Dorothy, suddenly realizing that they
lacked many things popularly supposed to belong to a summer hotel.
"That's one reason why I want to come," said Mrs. Faulkner.
"I hope you will decide to come," said Dorothy; "and now, if you will
excuse me a minute, I think I will ask my grandmother to come down and
sanction our plan."
Leaving the strangers to be entertained by Fairy, Dorothy ran up to her
grandmother's room and tapped at the door.
A few moments served to explain matters to Mrs. Dorrance, and though a
little bewildered by Dorothy's sudden proposal, she thought the plan a
good one, and went down prepared to give the strangers a cordial
reception.
The Faulkners were much pleased with the gentle, gracious old lady, and
Mrs. Dorrance decided at a glance that the newcomers were sensible and
kindly people.