PLEASE REMIT
Of course everyone was vastly interested in Mr. Tom Smith and his
aeroplane. That young man, however, exhibited a modest demeanor which
was very pleasant to members of his sex. He promised to take any and all
of the campers flying if his machine was in good order. He thought it
needed a little tinkering, however, as he had noticed a little clicking
sound above the usual clack and hum of the motor.
"How on earth did you happen to land here?" asked someone.
"Airman's instinct, I reckon. I was looking for the camp and had heard
there was a mountain with a smooth plateau around here somewhere. A
place to land is our biggest problem. The time will come when there
will be landing stations for flyers just as they have tea houses for
automobilists now. There is great danger of becoming entangled in trees
and telegraph wires. A place looks pretty good for lighting when you are
up in the clouds and then when you get down you find what seemed to be a
smooth, grassy plain is perhaps the top of a scrub oak forest."
After breakfast the whole camp of week-enders marched to the top of the
mountain to view the great bird, but the Carter girls had to stay behind
to prepare for the picnic. Many sandwiches must be made and the baskets
packed. Nan had her usual bowl of mayonnaise to stir. She looked very
demure in her great apron but her eyes were dancing with the remembrance
of her morning's escapade.
"You look very perky this morning, honey," said Douglas, as she packed a
basket of turnovers and cheese cakes with great care not to crush those
wonders of culinary art.
"You look tolerable perky yourself," retorted her sister. Just as the
sophomores and seniors of a college seem to fraternize, so it is often
the case with the first and third members of a family. Douglas and Nan
hit it off better with one another than they did with either Helen or
Lucy.
"I feel like flying!" declared Douglas. "I don't mean in an aeroplane
but just of my own accord. I am so happy that mother has given up that
terrible plan for me, given it up without father's knowing anything
about it. I wish I knew who had persuaded her or how it came about. She
is rather--well, not exactly cold with me--but not exactly chummy. She
has not told me yet, but if you say it is so, I know it is so. I went to
her room this morning so she could tell me if she wanted to, but she
didn't say a thing about it. She got a lot of letters from New York by
the early mail. I am mighty afraid they are bills."
"Pretty apt to be," sighed Nan. "I hope she won't give them to father."
"Oh, she mustn't do that. I shall have to ask her for them. I hate to do
it. She thinks I am so stern."
"Let me do it," said Nan magnanimously. "I wonder how much they amount
to."
"Oh, Nan! Would you mind asking for them?"
"Well, I am not crazy about it, but I'll do it," and do it she did.
She found her mother in a dainty negligee writing notes at a little desk
her devoted husband had fashioned from a packing box.
"Ah, Nan, how sweet of you to come to me! I see so little of my girls
now, they are so occupied with outside interests. Here, child, just run
these ribbons in my underwear. It really takes a great deal of time to
keep one's clothes in order. Susan should do such things for me, but she
is constantly being called off to do other things, at least she says she
is. What, I can't for the life of me see."
Nan dutifully began to do her mother's bidding, but when she saw the
drawer full of things she was supposed to decorate with ribbons she had
to call a halt.
"I am very sorry, mumsy, but I am helping Douglas pack the lunch
baskets. This is a day for a picnic, you know."
"No, I didn't know. Who is going?"
"Everyone, we hope, as that gives Oscar and Susan a chance to get a
thorough cleaning done, with no dinner to cook."
"Oh, how absurdly practical you girls have become! I just hate it in
you. What business has a girl of your age to know about who does
thorough cleaning and when it is done?" Nan restrained a giggle. She had
come to a full realization of what a very frivolous person her little
mother was and while it made her sad in a way it also touched her sense
of humor irresistibly.
"I am deeply disappointed in the fact that Douglas is not to come out
next winter. Mr. Parker advises me strongly against trying to launch
her. He says there are so many debutantes already and that he is engaged
up to every dance and that all of the dancing men are in the same fix.
Of course if I should go against his advice Douglas would fall as flat
as possible. She has no desire to come out as it is and no doubt would
do nothing to further her cause. I do not feel equal to the task of
bringing her out and of putting spirit into her at the same time. She
has been so lifeless and listless lately."
Nan smiled, thinking of how she had left Douglas actually dancing as she
packed the goodies and smiling all over her happy face.
"What a lot of letters you have, mumsy! You are almost as busy as I am
with letters. It takes me hours every day answering applications for
board."
"Oh, yes, I have many notes to answer--friends, welcoming me back to
Virginia. This pile over here is nothing but bills--things bought in
New York, on my way home. I think it is most impertinent of these
tradespeople to send them so promptly. They were so eager for me to
open accounts, and now they write to me as though I were a pickpocket.
'Please Remit' at the bottom of every bill, and one man actually accuses
me of being slow in payment. He says he understood I was to send money
as soon as I reached Virginia. I have no money myself. I shall just have
to hand them over to your father----"
"Oh, mother, please don't do that!"
"Why not? How else am I to get them paid?"
"But, mother, the doctor said no money matters must be brought to father
for at least a year and maybe not then. It was bills that made him ill,
and bills would be so bad for him now."
"Bills, indeed! It was overwork! I did my best to make him relax and not
work so hard, but he would not listen to me. Many a time I tried to make
him stop and go to the opera with me or to receptions, but it was always
work, work, work!--day and night. I'm sure no one can accuse me of
selfishness in the matter--I did my best."
"Yes, dear, I know you did," said Nan solemnly and gently, as though she
were soothing a little child who had dropped a bowl of goldfish or done
something equally disastrous and equally irreparable. "I tell you what
you do, though, honey, you give me the bills. You see, I write all the
letters for the camp and I will attend to them."
Mrs. Carter handed over the offensive pile of envelopes with an air of
washing her hands of the matter.
"There is one thing, mumsy: if I were you, I'd withdraw my patronage
from such persons. I'd never favor tradespeople like these with another
order."
"Never!" exclaimed the mother. "'Please Remit,' indeed! I never imagined
such impertinence."
Nan bore off the sheaf of bills. They were not quite so large as they
had feared. Mrs. Carter had unwittingly managed very well since she had
accidentally struck August sales in New York and the things she had
bought really were bargains.
"We will pay them immediately, Nan," said Douglas. "I am so thankful
that father did not see them. It would be so hard on him that I am sure
much of the good that has come to him from the long rest would be done
away with."
"Do they make you blue, these bills?"
"No, indeed! Nothing will make me blue now that mother has given up
making me be a debutante. I can go on working and make more money to
take the place of this we shall have to take out of the bank to pay for
these things mother bought. But just suppose she had carried her point
and forced me into society. I could have earned no money and would have
had such a lot spent on me. Why can't she see, Nan?"
"She is color blind, I think, unless it is couleur de rose. We must be
patient with her, Douglas."
"All right, grandma!" And if Mrs. Carter could have heard the peal of
laughter from Douglas, she would not have thought her lifeless and
listless. "You are such a dear little wise old lady, Nan!"