REGISTERED GUESTS
The next day, true to her word, Dorothy made preparations for methodical
and systematic hotel management.
"They may not stay more than a week; probably they won't," she said;
"but I don't want them to leave because the Dorrance Domain isn't run
properly as a summer hotel."
The children had looked upon the whole affair as a great joke; but
seeing that there was a certain underlying current of seriousness in
Dorothy's attitude, they began to think that it was a business venture
after all.
"Shall we really ask them to register, Dot?" inquired Leicester, who
didn't know quite how far the playing at hotel was to be carried.
"Yes," said Dorothy; "there is no reason why not; it can certainly do
no harm, and it makes everything seem more shipshape. Have nice fresh
pens, ink and blotters, and put down the date and the number of their
rooms when Mr. Faulkner signs. Don't laugh about it, but don't put on
airs either; just be polite and businesslike."
"My, Dot, but you're a wonder!" exclaimed Leicester, looking at his
sister with admiration. "Where did you learn all these things? Nobody
ever registered at Mrs. Cooper's."
"No," said Dorothy; "but that was a city boarding-house; an altogether
different affair from a country summer hotel. It may be foolish, but I
want to try to treat the Faulkners just as they would be treated in any
nice summer hotel."
"It isn't foolish at all," spoke up Lilian; "it's just the right way to
do, and we'll all help. We must send a pitcher of ice-water to their
room every night."
"Oh, dear, I never thought of that!" exclaimed Dorothy, in dismay; "why,
we haven't any ice."
"No," said Leicester, "but fresh-drawn water from that deep well is
just as cold as any ice-water. I'll make that one of my duties; I'm a
bell-boy, you know."
"Another thing," went on Lilian, in her practical way, "is the mail-box
in the office. We must tell the Faulkners to put their letters in there,
and they will be collected twice a day, and taken over to Woodville and
mailed."
"Lilian, you're a trump!" cried Dorothy; "tell us more things like
that,--that's just what I mean. But we can't go to Woodville twice a
day!"
"I think once a day will be enough," said Leicester; "we'll take the
contents of the mail-box every morning when we go over for the
marketing."
"I shall write to Gladys Miller every day," said Fairy; "so you'll
always have something to take; maybe the Faulkners don't have so very
much corresponderence."
All four of the children went to market that morning. Leicester drove
them over, and so much chattering and planning did they do on the way,
that the two miles distance seemed very short.
Dorothy felt the responsibility of ordering just the right things for
her table. She realized that she must begin on just the same scale on
which she expected to continue through the week. She must not be too
lavish, for since her aim now was to earn money, she must be fair and
just, rather than generous.
Always sensible and capable, Dorothy seemed suddenly possessed of a new
sort of self-reliance; and the responsibility which she had voluntarily
and gladly accepted, seemed to bring with it the executive ability which
promised success.
Mr. Bill Hodges was delighted to hear the news of boarders at the
Dorrance Domain. He possessed that trait, not altogether unusual in
storekeepers, of desiring to sell his wares. During the fortnight that
the Dorrances had entertained company, he had reaped a golden harvest,
and, as since then Dorothy's demand on his stock had been much more
modest, he now rejoiced in the anticipation of further extravagant
orders.
He was greatly surprised then, when Dorothy, instead of lavishly
purchasing whatever struck her fancy, regardless of its price, began to
inquire the cost of things, and showed a decided leaning towards thrift
and economy.
"Ain't goin' to starve them folks, be you?" he asked, as Dorothy
hesitated between the relative merits of lettuce and tomatoes.
"I hope not," said Dorothy, politely, for she knew Mr. Bill Hodges
pretty well by this time, and so did not resent what she knew was not
meant as a rudeness. "When our house was last run as a hotel, did they
buy their provisions from you?"
"Yes, ma'am, they did;" and a shade more of respectful deference crept
into the voice and manner of Mr. Bill Hodges, as he instinctively
realized the touch of added dignity in Dorothy's demeanor. "Mr. Perkins,
he used to do the marketin', and gracious snakes! but he calc'lated
close. He give his boarders just enough to keep them alive and no more."
"Well, I don't want to be quite so mean as that," said Dorothy; "but on
the other hand, I can't afford to treat my boarders quite as I would
like to entertain my guests."
"That's right, that's right!" exclaimed Mr. Bill Hodges, whose own
shrewd business mind readily recognized similar qualities in another.
"That's right; treat 'em good, but not too good."
This phrase fastened itself in Dorothy's mind, and she determined to
take for her line of action all that was expressed in Mr. Bill Hodges'
homely phrase, "Treat'em good, but not too good."
Their purchases satisfactorily completed, the children jogged back home
over the rough, steep hill, and even old Dobbin seemed to realize that
he was now part of the establishment of a first-class summer hotel.
That afternoon the Faulkners arrived.
Everything was in readiness, and perhaps no hotel proprietor ever took
greater pride in the general appearance of his hostelry, than did
Dorothy Dorrance, as, arrayed in a fresh white muslin, she stood on the
east veranda watching a lumbering stage drawing nearer and nearer to the
Dorrance Domain.
And surely no typical hotel clerk, even though decorated with the
traditional diamond pin, could show a more faultless array of
official-looking desk-furnishings.
The Horton House stage rolled slowly up the driveway, and stopped at the
main entrance. Mr. Hickox was on hand to open the stage door, and look
after the hand luggage.
With an instinctive grasping of the situation, both Mr. and Mrs.
Faulkner appreciated Dorothy's frame of mind, and acted precisely as if
they were entering a hotel run on regulation lines.
As Dorothy led the way to the office, Mrs. Faulkner looked at her
curiously. It was strange to see a girl, so young and pretty, so
graceful and well-bred, yet possessed of a certain quality which could
only be designated by the term, "business instinct." She marveled at
Dorothy's poise, which, however, showed no trace of awkwardness or
pertness.
Mrs. Faulkner was fond of character study, and felt convinced at once
that she would greatly enjoy a better acquaintance with Dorothy
Dorrance.
At the office, Leicester showed the newcomers the same quiet, polite
courtesy. The boy had a frank, straightforward air that always impressed
strangers pleasantly. He turned the register around towards Mr.
Faulkner, and offered him an already-inked pen, with an air of being
quite accustomed to registering guests.
But Leicester's sense of humor was strong, and the absurdity of the
whole thing struck him so forcibly, that it was with great difficulty he
refrained from laughing outright. Had he glanced at Dorothy, he
certainly would have done so; but the two were fully determined to play
their part properly, and they succeeded.
Nor was Mr. Faulkner to be outdone in the matter of correct deportment.
He gravely took the pen offered to him, signed the register in the place
indicated, and inquired if they might go at once to their rooms.
"Certainly," said Leicester, touching the bell on the desk. The
ubiquitous Hickox appeared with the hand-bags, and Leicester handed him
the keys.
This touch nearly finished Dorothy, for numbered keys seemed so very
like a real hotel, that it struck her as quite the funniest thing yet.
As the Faulkners, following Mr. Hickox, went up the great staircase and
disappeared around the corner, Leicester flew out from behind his desk,
grasped Dorothy's hand, and fleetly, though silently, the two ran
through the long parlor to one of the smaller rooms, shut the door, and
then burst into peals of laughter.
For a moment they would pause, begin to speak to each other, and then go
off again into choking spasms of hilarity.
Had they only known it, their two guests on the floor above, were doing
almost the same thing. Mrs. Faulkner had thrown herself into an easy
chair, and was laughing until the tears rolled down her cheeks. Mr.
Faulkner, who was by nature a grave gentleman, was walking up and down
the room, broadly smiling, and saying, "Well upon my word! well upon my
word!"
Before Dorothy and Leicester had recovered their equilibrium, the two
younger girls came rushing into the room where they were.
"Did they come? Are they here? What is the matter? Do tell us all about
it!"
Dorothy, in her idea of the fitness of things had asked Lilian and Fairy
to keep out of sight until after the arrival and registration had been
safely accomplished; grandma, it had also been thought best, was not to
appear until dinner-time. As Dorothy had expressed it, she knew the
proper propriety for a proprietor, and she proposed to live up to it.
But of course when Fairy and Lilian, on the west veranda, heard the
commotion in the small parlor, they could restrain their curiosity no
longer, and insisted on being told all about it.
So Dorothy and Leicester calmed down a little, and assured them that the
whole thing had passed off beautifully; that the arrival had been a
howling success, and that Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner were now established
boarders at the Dorrance Domain.
Then Dorothy went out to the kitchen to superintend carefully the
preparations for dinner. She had decided that since the Dorrance Domain
had become a hotel, it was proper to have dinner at night, and luncheon
in the middle of the day.
Once over the comical farce of registering, the advent of the Faulkners
took on an aspect not entirely humorous, and Dorothy's sense of serious
responsibility came back to her. Kathleen, too, with her native Irish
wit realized the gravity of the occasion, and went about her duties in a
steady, capable way that greatly helped to reassure Dorothy.
And indeed, matters seemed to be progressing most smoothly. The dinner
was well under way, and the table daintily set.
Fairy had brought flowers from Mrs. Hickox's garden, and she and Lilian
had decorated the table and the dining-room. Dorothy had concluded that
they would all sit together at the round table that night, and then if
the Faulkners preferred a table to themselves, it could be arranged
later.
After a careful supervision, Dorothy left the dinner in charge of her
really competent cook and waitress, and went back to the family. She
found them all on the west veranda, where they usually congregated at
sunset time.
With them were the Faulkners; and in a pretty summer house-gown, Mrs.
Faulkner looked so sweet and dainty, that Dorothy felt more than ever
attracted to her. Mr. Faulkner was engaged in a pleasant conversation
with Grandma Dorrance; and Dorothy suddenly felt that to be the
proprietor of a summer hotel was just the nicest thing a girl could do.
"You've no idea," Mrs. Faulkner was saying, as Dorothy came out, "what a
delightful change this is from the noise and glitter of the Horton
House. This lovely great veranda, and the beautiful view of the lake,
with no inharmonious elements, makes me feel glad I'm alive."
"I'm glad you are alive, too," said Dorothy, smiling at the lady; "and
I'm glad you live here."