THE TREATING TRYSTERS
It was astonishing how soon it was rumored abroad that Mary Louise,
who had always been looked upon as an heiress, was almost penniless
and was working for her living. The shock of her grandfather’s death
and then of her young husband’s shipwreck and drowning had hardly been
thoroughly discussed by the know-alls of the town before they had
to begin on the remarkable fact that Colonel Hathaway had, in some
mysterious way, disposed of his fortune. In the eyes of some, this loss
of fortune was even more serious than that of the beloved grandfather
and handsome, charming young husband.
“With plenty of money she could have got another husband, and as
for a grandfather--well it was a good thing he died when he did or
Mary Louise might have had to make a living for him too,” asserted a
worldly, heartless Dorfield gossip.
“Plenty of money certainly softens the blow of bereavement,” sighed
another whose rich trappings of woe proclaimed her as one who knew of
what she spoke.
“They say she is making hats at that funny Higgledy Piggledy Shop,”
proclaimed a third.
“Those girls do a right good business. I could hardly get along without
the Higgledy Piggledies. I laugh about them, but I go to them for all
kinds of things. That amusing little sandy-haired Miss O’Gorman told me
that they never turned down anything they were asked to do. She said
she would conduct a funeral if she got the order for it--and I believe
she would. They do what they undertake very well too. I have never had
anybody launder my best napkins so well. I am certainly going to give
Mary Louise an order for a hat. She wears lovely ones herself and I am
sure she can make them if she tries.”
The speaker was a wealthy young married woman who had the faculty
of setting the fashion simply because she had the courage of her
convictions and cared not at all what others thought. Her taste was
good and her pocketbook long, and where she went her set was sure to
follow.
Mary Louise was flooded with work the very first week of her new
enterprise.
“Don’t think this is a sample of what you are to expect, honey, but
realize that some of these hats you are asked to make are nothing but
fools’ caps,” admonished Josie. “They are for those who are coming to
you out of mere curiosity. A lot of the trade will stick though, I am
sure, because you are going to make the most stylish and the loveliest
hats in all Dorfield. I am glad to see you are laying in the very best
materials too. That’s where your having been rich will serve to your
advantage. You know, it is hard for persons who never have spent money
to begin and, when one has been accustomed to the best, it is an easy
matter to supply others with what you have been used to yourself. I’ll
wager within a month you are going to feel that, to do your customers
credit, you must take a trip to New York to get the latest styles and,
in not such a dim distant future you will be running across to Paris
to get in touch with the last cry in the way of millinery. I tell you,
Mary Louise, you are going to be a fine business woman before we know
it.”
Mary Louise smiled. She tried to do it cheerfully and not let any
sadness creep into her expression. The girls were so good to her and so
encouraging. It seemed to be her duty to respond to their kindness by
trying to be happy. She was happy in a way too, happier than she had
dreamed it possible she could ever be again. She was busy from morning
until night with no time in her schedule to indulge in vain regrets.
First, the Higgledy Piggledy Shop must be cleaned and their bed rooms
made up and the breakfast dishes washed. Elizabeth Wright came to
business in time to help with the cleaning of the shop. There was such
a variety of wares that unless it was kept in very good order there was
danger of its having the appearance of a junk shop, Josie declared, and
so the girls swept and dusted and tidied up the place with meticulous
care every morning. By the time the customers began to arrive, it was
spotless and orderly with a bright fire burning in the grate in the
front of the place and all traces of light housekeeping removed from
sight.
It began to be the fashion in Dorfield to meet one’s friends at the
Higgledy Piggledy Shop. It was centrally located, in spite of the fact
that the building was more or less tumbled down and very shabby, and it
was proving a convenient spot.
“I’ll just meet you at the Higgledy Piggledy,” could often be heard
among the gay set in Dorfield.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Mary Louise one evening late after the last
customer had departed and the girls had drawn up close to the fire for
a cheering cup of tea.
Elizabeth had decided not to go home but to spend the night on a
convenient Chesterfield that had been sent to the shop to be sold on
commission, and Irene was to have tea with her friends and later on Bob
Dulaney was to come by and wheel her home, a task in which he delighted.
“Well, what have you been thinking?” asked Josie. “So have I been
thinking and I still am.”
“I have been thinking we are wasting an opportunity here at the
Higgledy Piggledy.”
“An opportunity for what?” beamed Josie, whose theory that Mary Louise
was by the way of becoming a great financial factor in the business
world was still supreme with her.
“An opportunity for making money and for becoming more--more useful to
the community in which we live,” blushed Mary Louise.
“We are listening?” from Josie.
“We are dying to hear,” smiled Elizabeth, who was pleased with life
anyhow that evening since she had determined to get ahead of her
numerous family and their interminable questions and arguments by
simply staying away from them.
The misfortunes of Mary Louise were the subject uppermost in the minds
of the Wright family at that time and they had threshed the matter
threadbare, evidently talking of nothing else during the day and then
plying Elizabeth with more and more questions when she came home in the
evening. Elizabeth would shut up like a clam and would give them no
satisfaction whatsoever and then they would boldly assert that matters
were much worse even than they had dared hope or Mary Louise’s friends
would not be so secretive. Staying away from them seemed to be the only
way to manage them and stay away from them she determined to do.
Mary Louise stirred her tea thoughtfully and began timidly to explain
her statement that the Higgledy Piggledies were wasting an opportunity.
“Every afternoon, more or less of a crowd gathers here just meeting one
another. Now, my idea is that a crowd should be utilized. After they
meet, what do they do? Go off to various places and treat each other. I
know because I used to do it almost every afternoon of my life. My plan
is that they might treat each other right here.”
“Hurrah!” cried Josie.
“By the time they come, I am about through with my bonnet business and
I could serve tea easily, tea and cakes and sandwiches or cinnamon
toast or something light and easy. We could start in a small way and
then let the supply grow with the demand.”
“Listen to our captain of finance!” and Josie leaned over and patted
Mary Louise’s arm.
“It sounds mighty sensible to me,” declared Elizabeth.
“I could help a lot,” ventured Irene. “Aunt Hannah says nobody can make
such good toast as I can because I sit right by it and watch it.”
“Everything you do, you do better than anybody else,” said Mary
Louise. “What do you think of adding a tea service, girls?”
“We think: go to it!” cried Josie, delighted to know that Mary
Louise was interested enough to plan for the welfare of the Higgledy
Piggledies.
“I have all kinds of electric cooking things that Danny gave me.
Grandpa Jim, for some reason, was opposed to them and I kept them
packed away. I’ll go home and get them out of the attic and we can set
up shop to-morrow afternoon. I’ll bring the necessary china and silver
and table linen.”
“Don’t make it too fine,” cautioned Josie.
“Let’s name it the Higgledy Piggledy Electric Treating Tryst,”
suggested Elizabeth.
A knock on the door and Bob Dulaney and Billy McGraw entered. Fresh tea
was brewed for the two young men and then they were told of the scheme
Mary Louise had evolved concerning the Electric Treating Tryst.
“Nothing astonishes me,” confessed Billy. “You girls take an old barn
of a place and turn it into a thriving business and actually make a
living, make a living as it were on other persons’ laziness and now
you are threatening to feed the multitude. You can do anything!”
The misfortunes of Mary Louise had very much affected Billy McGraw.
He had been devoted to Danny with an intense admiration as well as
affection for him. The news of his death had been as sad a blow to him
as it had been to Bob Dulaney. When it was known that the grandfather’s
fortune had been mysteriously dissipated, he had rushed to the poor
little widow with offers of unlimited financial assistance, but Mary
Louise had explained that she was not in want and, thanking him sweetly
and gratefully, had, of course, refused all offers of financial aid.
The two young men were glad indeed when “Mrs. Danny,” as they called
Mary Louise, was moved from her big and now gloomy house to the more
cheerful and busy surroundings offered by the Higgledy Piggledies.
“Where are you going to feed these hungry swarms?” asked Bob Dulaney,
who, in spite of his poetical propensities, had a very practical mind.
“Right here, I guess!” answered Mary Louise. “Don’t you think there is
room?”
“Perhaps, but it will be kind of higgledy piggledy. I am wondering if
we couldn’t use some of this tremendous waste space that is up above
and swing a kind of balcony for the pink tea place?”
“Sure we could!” declared Billy. “Why not roof over the housekeeping
apartments, or rather, compartments, in the rear and make a nice broad
place above them for this new venture?”
“Splendid!” breathed Mary Louise. “The only thing I don’t like about it
here is having no roof to my room. Last night the little devil from the
Lincoln Cathedral perched himself on the top of my partition and made
faces at me all night. I prefer the bronze Buddhas who usually come and
look down on me.”
“Well, you shall have a roof now,” said Bob Dulaney with the brotherly
tenderness he felt for the little wife of his old friend, “and there
will be no room for Lincoln devils or bronze Buddhas or even Humpty
Dumpties.”
The very next day, late in the afternoon, the same crowd of young men
who had assisted in the carpentry and plumbing of the Higgledy Piggledy
Shop, except that poor Danny, who had been the ringleader and director
in the former enterprise, was missing, now came with lumber and tools
and noisily and quickly laid a floor across the two bed rooms, bath
room and kitchenette. The long narrow windows that had given more than
enough light and air for the bed rooms were now cut in half and served
upper and lower apartments.
Bob Dulaney arrived while the work was in progress, bearing on his
strong broad back a small flight of stairs he had ordered made at a
factory.
“I’ll bring the bannisters to-morrow,” he panted, as he leant the steps
against the wall leading to the balcony above. “I can’t drive a nail
straight myself and I remembered Edward Everett Hale’s advice to a
young man, ‘Never do for yourself what some one else can do better for
you,’ so I just had some one whose business it is to make steps make
these and the same genius is making some bannisters.”
Like magic the balcony was built and furnished, the proper connections
made for the electrical appliances and even a diminutive sink and water
pipes accomplished by the amateur plumbers.
Judicious advertising was done by the clever Elizabeth and in a short
while the girls were kept very busy with their new venture. It had
looked as though the balcony scheme might make it impossible for Irene
to assist, as there seemed no way to get her rolling chair to such an
elevation, but Bob Dulaney, again confessing himself unable to cope
with mechanics, had an expert come and with longer ropes and more
pulleys extend the dumb waiter service to the “mezzanine floor” as he
expressed it.
Irene’s chair was stationed by the table on which the various cooking
appliances were placed and she brewed wonderful, strong, clear coffee
in the electric percolator. Such crisp cinnamon toast was never seen as
that she made fresh for each customer, and the golden brown waffles
tasted like ambrosia, so the enthusiastic treating trysters declared.
To Mary Louise fell the task of serving as well as assisting Irene in
the cooking. Very sweet and demure she looked in her black dress with
white organdie collar and cuffs and little bibbed waitress’ apron. She
had not trained the many waitresses who had fallen out with Aunt Sally
without learning something of the art of waiting herself. Her skill
in serving astonished her as well as her friends. She never slopped
the tea or coffee, never dropped the spoons, never rattled the dishes,
never forgot the napkins or the water. In fact, she was so perfect that
a grand-dame, evidently a stranger in Dorfield, who had come into the
Higgledy Piggledy Shop in search of novelties and had stayed to tea,
was so impressed by the pretty waitress with the sad merry face and the
pretty clever hands that she had then and there offered her a job and
promised to pay her twice as much as she was getting in her present
position no matter what that sum might be.
“Of course, it is amusing,” Mary Louise said when she told her
indignant partners of the occurrence, “but it makes me feel rather
comfy to know that I can always make my living in some way or other.
The grand lady left her card with me in case I should ever change my
mind. You girls had better be very nice to me or I’ll go and take up
with another mistress,” she laughed.