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[Illustration: MR. ALEXANDER IS INTRODUCED TO POLLY.
_Frontispiece—(Page 24)_]
POLLY AND HER
FRIENDS ABROAD
BY
LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY
_Author of_
POLLY OF PEBBLY PIT, POLLY AND ELEANOR,
POLLY IN NEW YORK, POLLY’S
BUSINESS VENTURE
ILLUSTRATED BY
H. S. BARBOUR
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I The Alexanders 1
II Dodo Meets Polly’s Friends 22
III The Tour Is Planned 41
IV The Tour of Great Britain 62
V Love Affairs and Antiques 84
VI Polly Takes a Hand To Cure Jimmy 106
VII Dodo’s Elopement 126
VIII Dodo Meets Another “Title” 148
IX Mr. Alexander’s Surprise 166
X A Dangerous Pass on the Alps 184
XI The Plot in Venice 205
XII Escaping an Earthquake 223
XIII Unexpected Vicissitudes of Travel 238
XIV A Highwayman in Disguise 255
XV Ahoy! for the Stars and Stripes Again 267
POLLY AND HER FRIENDS ABROAD
CHAPTER I—THE ALEXANDERS
Eleanor Maynard left her friend, Polly Brewster, in the stateroom,
cutting the stems of the gorgeous American Beauty roses, and arranging
them anew in the tall glass of fresh water. As she was about to close
the door behind her, she turned and said:
“Be sure and come up on deck, Polly, as soon as you are done with the
roses.”
“All right, run along and I’ll be with you in a jiffy,” returned Polly,
her thoughts engaged with the flowers.
So Eleanor strolled to the upper deck and tried to find an interest with
which to amuse herself until Polly joined her.
Of course, you remember Polly Brewster of Pebbly Pit, and her chum,
Eleanor Maynard, of Chicago? Mr. Fabian, their teacher in interior
decorating, and the Ashbys from New York City, were escorting the two
girls on this trip abroad, with the idea of visiting famous European
museums and places where antiques of all kinds could be seen and
studied.
Eleanor walked part way around the promenade deck before she was
accosted by a decidedly plump woman of about forty, with decidedly
blondine hair, and flashing—_most_ decidedly—too many large diamonds
from ears, fingers and neck.
“Excuse me, but aren’t you one of the young ladies I met at the Denver
railway station last year when Anne Stewart and her friends were about
to leave for New York?” questioned the lady.
Eleanor turned, glanced at the living representative of the newly-rich,
and smiled delightedly—not with recognition but at the possibility of
having fun with someone arrayed like a peacock.
“Oh yes, I was there! Do you know Anne Stewart?” said she.
“I should think I did! Didn’t we live next door to the Stewarts when
Anne and Paul were little tots?”
“How nice to meet you, now,” returned Eleanor, noting the quality of the
apparel and the approximate value of the gems adorning the lady.
“But that was before Ebeneezer struck ‘pay dirt’ down in Cripple Creek.
After that, we moved from the little house and bought a swell mansion in
the fashionable part of Denver,” explained the lady, with pride.
“Did you say you met us last summer?” ventured Eleanor.
“Yes, don’t you remember me? I got off the train coming in from Colorado
Springs, just as you-all stood waiting for the East-bound Express.”
“I have a faint recollection of Anne shaking hands with someone, and
introducing Polly and me, but there were so many in our party that you
must pardon me if I do not recall you now.”
“Oh sure! I know how it is,” giggled the lady, affably. “You _did_ have
a crowd waiting to see you off, I remember.”
“And now we meet again on the steamer bound for Europe! Well, it goes to
show how small a place this world is,” remarked Eleanor, not knowing
what else to say, but feeling amused at the hackneyed phrase she had to
make use of.
“How comes it that you are sailing across? Is your Ma and family with
you?”
“No, but Polly Brewster—she’s the girl you saw that day with Anne—and
I are going to tour Europe with some friends, to study more of our
profession.”
“Profession! Good gracious—didn’t that gold mine I read about pan out
anything?” exclaimed the lady, astonished.
Eleanor laughed. “Oh yes, I believe it is going to pay even richer than
we at first thought possible; so Polly and I can use our own money to
improve our education.”
“And what are you going to take up?”
“We have taken it up—Polly and I have been studying Interior Decorating
for two years, now.”
“Interior Decorating! Good gracious—isn’t that the sort of work the
upholsterers and painters have to do for you?” gasped the lady.
Eleanor laughed again. Here was fun indeed! So she carefully fed the
fuel now beginning to take fire in her companion’s brain. “I am afraid
it _has_ been their work in the past. But Polly and I plan to try and
uplift the work, and by investing our money in a first-rate business, we
will try to create a real profession out of what is merely a paint-brush
and a tack-hammer job, nowadays.”
Eleanor glanced about to make sure her friends were not within hearing
of the remarks she had just made to her new acquaintance. The expression
on the lady’s face, as the young aspirant for a new ideal explained her
plans, sufficed Eleanor for the story she had just told.
“And what did you say your name was, dearie?” asked the lady, finally.
“Eleanor Maynard—of the Chicago Maynards, you know.”
“Yes, yes, I know of them,” replied the lady, glibly. “I am Mrs.
Ebeneezer Alexander, of Denver. P’raps you’ve heard how Eben made a
million in a night?”
Mrs. Alexander’s puckered forehead led Eleanor to understand what was
expected of her in reply, so she fibbed as glibly as her companion had.
“Oh yes! _who_ has not heard of the Alexanders of Denver?”
The lady smoothed out her steamer-rug and smiled happily. Then the
remembrance of this banker’s daughter going into a common trade, to
better the conditions and reputation of the work, rose uppermost in her
shallow mind again.
“I should think your Ma’d go wild to think that one of her girls wanted
to work instead of getting married to a rich young man,” remarked she.
“Maybe my mother would object if I gave her time to think about it,”
Eleanor said, smilingly. “But she’s too busy getting my sister Bob ready
to marry, to bother about me.”
“Well, by the time your sister is settled down and having a family,
you’ll be ready to turn your back on work and do as your Ma thinks
best,” declared Mrs. Alexander, knowingly.
The very suggestion of Barbara’s having a family so amused Eleanor that
she laughed uncontrollably, to the perplexity of her companion.
“Don’t you believe you will grow tired of work?” asked Mrs. Alexander,
thinking her remarks on that subject had sounded preposterous to
Eleanor.
“No indeed! Polly and I are tremendously interested in the study, and as
we go into it deeper, the more absorbing it grows,” replied Eleanor.
“I didn’t know you had anything to study, except how to handle a
paint-brush, or tuck in the furniture covering, before you tack the
guimpe along the edges.”
“Oh yes, there’s a little more than that to learn first, before you can
hang out a sign to tell folks you are a decorator, and wish to solicit
their trade,” smiled Eleanor.
“Who are these Ashbys you spoke of? Are they New York trade people, or
do they travel in society?” now asked Mrs. Alexander, as she remembered
the escort Eleanor had mentioned.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ashby, and their daughter Ruth, are very nice people who
know just the sort of folks Polly and I need to meet to help us in our
business, later on. Mr. Ashby has a large upholstery and decorating
business in New York City, but his wife goes into society, somewhat,”
explained Eleanor, a twinkle in her eyes that would have warned one who
understood her mischievous inclinations. But her companion did not
understand.
“Oh—I see! Just a tradesman who’s made some money, I s’pose, and now
his wife wants to climb. Did you ever read that novel about some
‘climbers’?”
“No, but I’ve heard of it. The Ashbys are not that sort.”
“But not the sort that can help me with Dodo, either, I see,” said Mrs.
Alexander, thoughtfully for her.
“Dodo?”
“Yes, she’s my daughter. It’s because of her that I’m going over to the
other side. I’ve heard say there are titles going begging for American
millionaires since the war. And Dodo isn’t bad looking, even if she
isn’t as prepossessing as I used to be—and am yet, I can say.”
Eleanor could hardly believe she had heard aright. An American mother
from _Denver_ going to exchange her child for a title! And the absolute
egotism with which she mentioned her own looks and behavior!
“Well!” thought Eleanor to herself, “I was looking for entertainment,
and here I have more of it than I dreamed of.”
“Does your daughter agree with you about marrying a title?” Eleanor
could not help asking.
“She doesn’t say anything about it, one way or another. I told her what
she had to do, and that settles it.”
“How old is she?” wondered Eleanor aloud.
“Past sixteen, but she looks more like twenty. If it wasn’t that it
would make me look so old, I’d dress her like twenty-one ’cause I hear
the Europeans prefer a woman of age, and over there she can’t be her own
lawful self ’til twenty-one.”
“Sixteen! Why—she isn’t much older than Polly or I!” gasped Eleanor.
“No, but I said—she seemed older.”
“Nancy Fabian is nineteen and _she_ never thinks of getting married—not
yet. Everyone thinks, nowadays, that twenty-five is plenty young enough
for a girl to think of marriage. That gives her a chance to see the
world and men, and then make a wise choice.”
“Nancy Fabian—who is she?” asked Mrs. Alexander.
“Nancy is the daughter of Mr. Fabian who taught Polly and me interior
decorating thus far. He is a wonderful teacher, and Nancy, his only
child, has been studying art in Paris. Her mother went over with her to
chaperone her, while there, and now we are going to meet them. Nancy
managed to have several of her watercolors exhibited at the Academy this
year, and one of them took a prize.” Eleanor’s tone conveyed the delight
and pride she felt in Nancy Fabian’s achievement, even though she had
not met her.
“And this teacher is traveling with you?” was Mrs. Alexander’s
rejoinder.
Eleanor felt the condescension in Mrs. Alexander’s tone and resented it.
So she decided to answer with a sharp thrust.
“Yes; Mr. Fabian promised Anne and my mother to take good care of Polly
and me, until he turns us over to his wife and Nancy, who are visiting
Sir James Osgood, of London.”
“Visiting a Sir James!” gasped Mrs. Alexander, sitting bolt upright for
the first time since the interview began.
“Uh-huh! The Fabians and the Osgoods are very close friends, I hear.
Nancy Fabian and Angela Osgood studied in the same class, in Paris; and
Mrs. Fabian chaperoned Angela when her mother, Lady Osgood, had to
return to England for the London Season.” Eleanor had her revenge.
“Mercy! Then these Fabians must _be_ somebody!”
“Why, of course! What made you think they were not?”
“From what you said,” stammered Mrs. Alexander, humbly. “You said he was
a teacher and that he was an intimate friend of the Ashbys who were
painters and upholsterers.”
“Oh no, I didn’t!” retorted Eleanor. “_You_ said that. _I_ said that Mr.
Ashby was an interior decorator who helped Polly and me a lot, and that
Mr. Fabian was our teacher. There is a vast difference between
decorators and paint-slingers, you will learn, some day.”
Eleanor was about to walk away with that parting shot, when a very
attractive girl came from a side-door of the Lounge and looked around.
Catching sight of Mrs. Alexander, she started for her. She was
over-dressed, and her face had been powdered and rouged as much as her
mother’s was; her lips were scarlet as carmine could tinge them, and her
hair was waved and dressed in the latest style for adults. As Mrs.
Alexander had said, her daughter looked fully ten years older than she
really was, because of her make-up.
She glanced casually at Eleanor, without expressing any interest in her,
and turned to her mother. “Oh, Ma! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!
Pa says he _won’t_ come out and sit down, just to watch who goes by.”
Eleanor was severely tailored in her appearance, but her suit
represented the best cut and fit that the most exclusive shop in New
York could provide, and the broad-cloth was of the finest. Dodo, (whose
real name was Dorothy but was cut to Dodo for a pet name) failed to
recognize the lines and material of the gown, but she passed it over
lightly because she saw no gorgeous trimmings to claim value for it.
“Dodo, dearie, do you remember those two girls we read about, out west?
The ones who discovered that gold mine just below Grizzly Slide? Well,
this is Eleanor Maynard from Chicago, who was with her chum Polly, when
they sought refuge in that cave on the mountain-top. Isn’t it lovely for
you to meet her, this way?”
At mention of the gold mine, and the unusual circumstances in connection
with it, Dodo’s expression changed. She smiled politely at Eleanor and
said: “So glad to meet you.”
“And Dodo being my only child, Miss Maynard, she is well worth knowing.
She will inherit the million her father made,” added Mrs. Alexander.
Eleanor smiled cynically. “I’m sorry for you, Dodo. It spoils one’s life
to be reminded of how much one has to live up to, when one is young and
only wants to be carefree and happy.”
“Oh, do you feel that way, too! I thought it was only me who was queer.
Ma says other girls would give their heads to be in my place,” exclaimed
the girl, anxiously.
Eleanor now took a keener look at the speaker. It was evident from her
words that she was not what she was dressed up to represent. “You have a
chance to be yourself, in spite of every one, you know,” said Eleanor.
“Well, I wish to goodness you would show me how! I hate all this
fluffy-ruffle stuff and I wish we could get back to that time when I
could go with my hair twisted at the back of my neck; and a cold water
wash to clean my face, instead of all this cold cream business, and then
the paint and flour afterwards!” declared Dodo, bluntly.
“Oh deary! I beg of you—don’t display your ignorance before strangers
like this!” wailed her mother, fluttering a lace handkerchief before her
eyes. “Eleanor Maynard is one of _the_ Maynards of Chicago.”
“Why not! If Eleanor Maynard is half the girl I think she is—from what
I read, that time they were lost on the Flat Tops and from what she just
said, then she’ll appreciate me the more for my honesty,” asserted the
girl.
“I do, Dodo. I never had much use for make-up, but I know society
condones the use of it all. So I’m glad to find a real girl who dislikes
it as much as Polly and I do.”
“There now, Ma! And I bet these girls will look at your pet hobby much
the same as I do.” Then Dodo turned to Eleanor and added: “Ma’s bound to
palm me off on some little stick of a nobleman in Europe, just to brag
about my name with a handle to it. But _I_ say I don’t want a
husband—especially a foreign one. If I have to marry, let me choose a
westerner! The kind I’m used to.”
Eleanor could have hugged the girl for her frank honesty so different
from what she had looked for from the daughter of the silly woman before
her.
“If only we could persuade Ma to see that this going to Europe does not
mean just buying Paris dresses and parading them to catch a lord, I’ll
be happy,” concluded Dodo.
“Poor child! How she does find fault with her little mother!” sighed
Mrs. Alexander, wiping her eyes in self-pity.
Dodo turned her entire attention to her new acquaintance, at this. “Are
you alone, or is your family with you?”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, Dodo dear; Miss Maynard is going to study
decorating in Europe; and her friend Polly, and their teacher, is with
her. She just told me that the teacher’s wife and daughter are visiting
a real English peer! Think of it—a teacher’s family stopping with a
live lady of quality!” exclaimed Mrs. Alexander, eagerly.
“I hope they are nice English folks,” commented Dodo.
“Naturally they would be, if they belong to the peerage, Dodo,” returned
her mother, innocent of a “Burke” and the difference between a baronet
and a peer. “But I was thinking, that it would be quite easy for us to
get acquainted with dukes and lords, if a mere teacher got his family
invited to one’s house.”
Dodo’s lip curled sarcastically, and Eleanor learned that the daughter
had nothing in common with these empty fads of her mother. Then Dodo
said: “I hope the teacher’s family know enough to make the lord’s family
appreciate a good old American!”
Eleanor laughed, and said: “If Nancy Fabian and her mother are anything
like Mr. Fabian, you can rest assured that they’ll do full justice to
the United States, and the Stars and Stripes.”
To change the subject from this dangerous ground that created more
resistance for her to fight than she had to meet, recently, from Dodo,
Mrs. Alexander hastily said: “Do you know, Dodo, Miss Maynard told me
that Polly and she took up the study of Interior Decorating, in New
York, in order to better the conditions of painters and upholsterers who
work at that trade. Not to make money.”
Eleanor frowned. “I think you misunderstood me, Mrs. Alexander. I said
we were studying the profession and that it took a great deal of
application and perseverance to reach the high plane which was necessary
for a good decorator to stand on. So few who call themselves interior
decorators really know much about the art. And in order to increase our
education and understanding of the profession, Polly and I are about to
visit the great museums of Europe.”
“Well, it is the same thing, isn’t it?” pouted Mrs. Alexander.
“No, I think your idea of interior decorators is that any ‘paint-slinger
or tack-driver’ is a professional. Whereas I see that _that_ is the very
error necessary to be reversed by us, before the public recognises the
value of genuine decorators. In France and other European countries, an
interior decorator has to have a certificate. And that is what we hope
to do in the United States—put the real ones through a course of
studies and have them examined and a diploma given, before one can claim
title to being a decorator.” Eleanor spoke with emphasis and feeling.
“Well, I don’t know a fig about it, or anything else, for that matter,”
laughed Dodo, cheerfully. “But I can understand how much more
interesting it must be to trot around hunting up worm-eaten furniture,
or examining ruined masonry, or admiring moth-holed fabrics, than to do
as I have to—follow after Ma and sit with my hands idly folded waiting
for some old fossil to pass by and say: ‘I choose her, because she’s got
the most cash.’”
Eleanor laughed outright at the girl’s statement, but Mrs. Alexander
showed her anger by twisting her shoulders and saying: “Dodo Alexander!
If I didn’t know better, I’d believe you were trying to make Eleanor
believe that you detested your opportunity!”
Dodo tossed her head and said: “Time will show!”
At that crisis in the conversation, another girl’s voice was heard
across the deck. “Nolla! Are you there?”
Eleanor turned and called back: “No, I am not here!”
Then all three girls laughed. The newcomer, Polly Brewster, skipped
lightly across the deck, and joined the group she had spied from the
open doorway. Eleanor introduced Mrs. Alexander as an old friend of
Anne’s, and Dodo her daughter, as an independent American who believed
in suffrage and all the rights of American womanhood. At this latter
explanation, Dodo grinned and her mother gasped in amazement at Eleanor.
Then Mrs. Alexander said politely: “How is Anne Stewart? I haven’t seen
her for some time.”
“Anne is married to my brother John, now,” returned Polly. “And they are
going to live home, with mother, while I am away. Anne’s mother is to
live at the old home in Denver, and keep house for Paul.”
“It seems years and years since I lived next door to them,” remarked
Dodo. “I always played with Paul Stewart.”
“Deary, it can’t be years and years, because I am not so old as you try
to make me appear,” corrected Mrs. Alexander.
Polly, understanding from the words, saw how vain the woman was and
stood looking at her in surprise. But Eleanor heard only Dodo’s speech.
“Did you say you always played with Paul Stewart when you were
neighbors?”
“Yes indeed!” laughed Dodo, as she remembered various incidents of that
childhood.
“We always played we were married, and Paul’s Irish Terrier and my
kitten were our children. We dressed them up in old dust-cloths and
tried to make them behave, but no parents ever had such trials with
their children as we had when Terry and Kitty got to scrapping!”
Eleanor was deeply interested and Polly smiled at what she saw expressed
in her friend’s face. Dodo continued her reminiscences.
“Paul used to draw me on his sled when we went to school, and he always
saved a bite of his apple for me at noon-time. I gave him half of my
cake in exchange. Oh, we had such fun—we two, in those days!” the girl
sighed and looked out over the billowy sea.
“Then Pa struck that vein of gold down at Cripple Creek and everything
changed. Ma got the social bug, so bad, we had to leave all our old
friends, and move to a strange neighborhood where Pa never spoke to a
soul and I felt out of place. But Ma said it had to be done to establish
our position.
“The Stewarts rented their house and I heard that Paul went to Chicago
to college, while Anne went to teach a school in New York. Then I never
heard again, of any of them, until Ma met you-all at the Denver railroad
station.” Dodo smiled at that crumb of comfort.
Polly and Eleanor were deeply touched at the girl’s tale, for they knew
how lonely she must have been away from her old associations, in an
atmosphere where she was not at home. And such a frivolous mother who
could not understand the true blue of such an honest character as
Dodo’s!
“Ma sent me to a swell seminary near our new house, but the girls
snubbed me, and I never had a pal all the time I was there. When Ma
ordered me to come to Europe with her to stock up with fine dresses and
then try to make a match for me with some man with a title, I came, but
goodness knows! I just hate the idea.”
“Oh, Dodo! You’ll break my heart, if you talk like that!” cried Mrs.
Alexander, trying to impress the two other girls with her maternal
sorrow.
“Nolla! I almost forgot what I came for,” laughed Polly, to change the
subject. “Prof. says for you to come to the salon where they have used
Adams period and Louis XIV furniture in the same room. He wants to show
us a bad example of decoration.”
“May I come with you?” asked Dodo, eagerly.
“Of course! Come right along,” agreed Eleanor, thrusting her hand
through the new friend’s arm and starting away with her.
The moment they were out of hearing, Eleanor said impressively to Dodo:
“Don’t you ever give in to that idea of marrying a foreigner! Your
mother will soon get over it if you just keep on making her see it’s no
use. If you pretend to take up some study like we are doing, she will
see you mean business.”
“That’s good advice, and I sure will follow it,” declared the eager
girl.
“And Nolla and I will help along all we can,” promised Polly.
“Even if you have to make your mother believe you are in love with Paul
Stewart and won’t marry anyone else—then do it!” declared Eleanor, in
tones of brave self-sacrifice and renunciation.
“Oh, but I’m not! Paul is a dandy boy and we had good times when we were
small, but I’ve seen other boys I like a heap better’n him, now! But I
really don’t want to marry anyone, yet!”
“I shouldn’t think you would!” breathed Eleanor, in great relief. “So
Polly and I will agree to help you out of all the plots your mother
plans for you. Won’t we, Polly?”
“We sure will!” agreed Polly. And that is how Dodo came to travel about
Europe with Polly and Eleanor. And why the two old friends felt it a
duty to protect and save Dodo from the wily plans of her mother who
wished to own a title in the Ebeneezer Alexander family.