THE HOUSE-WARMING
Marjorie, Ethel, and Marie Louise sat on the porch of the latter’s home,
awaiting the arrival of the rest of the girls. Alice Endicott would
probably come in time for supper, and perhaps Lily Andrews and Florence
Evans; but Daisy was delaying her departure until the last moment so
that she might spend as long as possible with the baby.
“Do you know I wish Daisy had planned to bring little Betty with her,”
remarked Marie Louise. “We could take turns looking after her, and save
the money we pay the nurse.”
“We did think of that,” said Marjorie; “but the thing that decided us
against it was the baby’s mother. She’s improving right along now, and
is able to see Betty on visiting days at the hospital, so it seemed too
cruel to take her so far away. And then after awhile Mrs. Trawle may be
able to go home and take care of her baby herself.”
“Then our work will be all for nothing?” asked Marie Louise.
“No, indeed! Mrs. Trawle won’t be strong enough to earn any money, if
she does live, and will need all the help we can give her.”
“I guess we’re here for the whole summer,” remarked Ethel, settling
herself comfortably against the cushions of the hammock. “But I can’t
say I’m sorry!” She looked appreciatively towards Marie Louise.
“Well, I’m glad you like it,” returned the latter. “And it’s so nice of
you all to take me into your inmost circle.”
The click of the iron gate drew the girls’ attention away from
themselves, and they recognized Alice and Florence entering.
“Hello, girls!” cried Alice, half running up the pathway. “I’m that glad
to see you!”
“Have you really got a tea-room?” asked Florence, as if she could not
believe in the thing till she saw it. “Or are we just here for a good
time?”
“Yes to both!” laughed Marjorie. “Wait till you see our tea-house. It
can’t be beaten, can it, Marie Louise?”
“It certainly can’t!” agreed the latter, enthusiastically.
“Your house is perfectly lovely, anyhow,” remarked Florence, turning to
Marie Louise. “I guess we can stand anything with such a delightful
place to come to at night.”
“Don’t be so pessimistic, Flos!” reproved Alice. “It’s going to be the
best summer the patrol has ever had!”
“Yes, and I know something nice about tonight, too,” added Ethel.
“What?” demanded Marjorie, eagerly.
“Oh, not that John Hadley expects to drive over and see you—though he
does, of course!” replied Ethel. “But something we’ll all enjoy.”
“Chocolate layer cake, I’ll wager!” put in Marie Louise. “I’m sure I
smelled one. That reminds me, girls, let’s go out in the kitchen and
meet Mrs. Munsen, our housekeeper. She’s been crazy to see you all.”
“Oh, but wait a minute!” pleaded Marjorie. “There’s a car stopping at
the gate. It’s probably Lily.”
A moment later the girl ran up the porch steps and greeted them all
effusively. Arm in arm they made a tour of the house, visiting the
kitchen to make the acquaintance of that motherly person who was to look
after them during the coming months; then going on to the second floor
to see their bedrooms. Marjorie and Ethel had already selected one
together, and Marie Louise still kept her own daintily furnished little
boudoir, which she was to share with Lily. Alice and Florence were
assigned to the front room, usually occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Harris, and
so the remaining one was left for Daisy.
It was only when they were all seated at the supper table that the
new-comers began to ask all sorts of questions about the tea-house,
which Marjorie and Marie Louise did their best to answer.
“Are we going down to inspect it tonight?” inquired Alice, who had shown
perhaps the most animated interest.
“Mercy no!” cried Lily. “Don’t forget the ghost Agnes Taylor told us
about!”
“What ghost?” demanded two or three girls at once.
“Oh, there’s nothing to it!” replied Marjorie, contemptuously. “Just
because two or three deaths occurred in the house, somebody has to
invent the story that the place is haunted.”
“And the ghost comes out only at night,” added Lily, in spite of what
Marjorie had just said.
“Then I take it we’re not going down tonight?” asked Alice.
“No, we’re not,” replied Marjorie. “But that isn’t the reason; it’s
because we all need to rest. Then tomorrow we’ll begin in dead earnest.
We’re to meet Mrs. Hadley there at ten o’clock.”
“I’d laugh if we didn’t have enough money to equip it,” remarked
Florence, cynically.
“Don’t worry—we’ll manage somehow!” replied Marjorie. “Now, Ethel, tell
us what you meant about that surprise—the one you spoke of before
supper!”
“What surprise?” demanded Lily.
Ethel smiled mysteriously; it was fun to tease these girls because they
always responded so readily.
“Oh, I’m not going to tell you—it wouldn’t be a surprise then.” She
exchanged glances meaningly with Mrs. Munsen, who sat at the head of the
table, and who was evidently in the secret.
“Just give us a hint, then!” begged Alice.
“Well, then—I advise that nobody go to bed before—say half-past eight!
You might miss some fun!”
“Don’t count much on me,” remarked Marjorie, with a great display of
indifference. “I have to go over some work with Mrs. Hadley, before our
big Council of War tomorrow.”
“Just as you like!” replied Ethel, adopting the same tone.
After supper the girls scattered in all directions. Marjorie settled
herself at the desk in the living-room to go over some accounts; Alice
and Florence lingered in the dining-room to help Mrs. Munsen to clear
away the supper; Lily departed to take her roadster to a public garage
for the night; and Marie Louise and Ethel went out to sit on the porch.
“We’re the only lazy ones in the whole bunch,” remarked Ethel, as she
selected a magazine from the wicker table and sank into a cushioned seat
beside it; “but if they only knew it, they aren’t going to work long!”
“Ethel, what do you mean?” asked her companion, as she unwound some
tatting from a shuttle she took from her pocket. “Please tell me! I
won’t breathe it to a soul!”
“Well, we’re going to have some company this evening! Besides the
Hadleys, I mean!”
“Oh, now you just have to tell me who! I’m awfully curious. It couldn’t
be Roger and Doris—no—they’d have let me know if they had changed their
plans about coming home.”
“It isn’t Roger and Doris! But that’s all you’ll get out of me! Now,
Marie Louise, be a good girl and let me read my story. It’s a continued
one, and this is the last installment.”
By exerting a huge amount of self-control, Marie Louise managed to
refrain from asking further questions until Ethel announced that she was
finished, and that the growing twilight would prevent her from starting
another story.
“Now will you tell me?” asked the younger girl, laying aside her fancy
work.
“I don’t need to!” laughed Ethel. “The surprise—or part of it—is
arriving already!” Nevertheless, she whispered something illuminating in
the other girl’s ear.
At that moment a young man approached the gate, and was opening it while
Ethel was speaking. Marie Louise regarded him intently, anxious to
identify him, in spite of the diminishing light. But she did not think
she had ever seen him before.
“Dick Roberts!” exclaimed a voice from the doorway; and as the young man
mounted the steps, Lily, who had been up in her room ever since her
return from the garage, stepped out on the porch. Smilingly she
introduced him to Marie Louise.
“So this is the surprise you mentioned at supper!” she observed to
Ethel. “But when did you two see each other?”
“We didn’t!” laughed Dick, with a significant look at Ethel.
“Will you excuse me, Lily, for a few minutes?” asked Ethel, as the young
people seated themselves. “I have a little matter to look after—and you
might help me, Marie Louise.”
“Oh, stay!” urged Lily, thinking the excuse was only perfunctory.
“No, really—thanks—but this is important,” said Ethel. “I’m sorry—but
I’ll see you later.”
As soon as she was inside the door, she told Marie Louise why she wanted
to go.
“I want to go tease Marj,” she whispered. “She pretended to be so
indifferent about seeing John, or having company!”
They walked into the sitting-room, and found her still at her desk.
“Who’s out there on the porch?” asked Marjorie, immediately.
“Just a friend of Lily’s,” replied Ethel, provokingly.
“Not John Hadley?”
“No.”
“That must be he now!” cried Marjorie, jumping up. “I hear voices and
steps on the porch.”
Ethel and Marie Louise stood in full sight of the door, and enjoyed
Marjorie’s consternation as she rushed forward only to be greeted by two
strange young men.
“Is Miss Endicott in?” asked the taller, older one of the two.
“Yes, indeed!” replied Marjorie, taking the card which was extended
towards her. “Won’t you come in and sit down?”
“And Miss Evans?” asked the other, also producing a card.
Ethel and Marie Louise had managed to remain concealed in the
sitting—room while they were witnessing the situation, and only with a
supreme effort stifled the giggles which Marjorie’s perplexity aroused.
By the time Alice and Florence had appeared to greet the young men, the
other three girls had vanished into the dining-room.
“So this is your surprise!” remarked Marjorie. “Well, it’s very nice—for
them. I suppose Mrs. Hadley and I will have to have our conference in
the dining-room.”
“Oh, your conference can wait!” replied Ethel, unconcernedly.
“There they are now!” interrupted Marjorie, at the sound of the
door-bell. “I’ll go let them in.”
But Marjorie was to receive one more surprise before the Hadleys
arrived. The person whom she least expected to see stood before her: her
own Brother Jack! Another young man, whom she immediately recognized as
William Warner of the wedding party, was with him.
“Jack! Whatever are you doing in Philadelphia?” she gasped.
“I have a job here—so I’ll be near you all summer!” he answered.
“But what is the idea?”
“John Hadley and I had a little scheme to work out—you’ll hear all about
it later.”
In another moment John and his mother stepped up on the porch, and
Marjorie realized that the gathering, which was no matter of
coincidence, but a carefully planned party, was complete. She directed
the company into the sitting-room and started the victrola.
“This is to be your formal house-warming!” announced John, when the
young people were all together. “A real party—with eats, and dancing,
and all. But before the fun begins, Jack and I want to tell you about a
little plan we have up our sleeve.”
“Go on!” urged Marjorie, eagerly. “I’m prepared for surprises this
evening.”
“Well, it’s simply this,” explained John. “We fellows knew your capital
is pretty limited, and we knew too how high labor is. So we figured if
you girls could come down here two weeks earlier and do most of the
preparation yourselves, you might use some of our help.
“So we fellows—and by the way, Roger is in on this—are banded together
to do whatever you want the next two weeks. Our time, whenever we can
get away from our jobs, is at your disposal; also my luxurious
car—my—er—a—Ford!”
“Oh, it’s too wonderful!” cried Marjorie. “Everybody seems to help
us—first Mr. Scott, then Mr. Andrews, Marie Louise and her family—and
now you people! How can we ever thank you?”
“By starting the dancing immediately,” replied Jack, practically. “Marie
Louise, I claim your first dance.”
And for the rest of the evening Marjorie and all the other girls put
aside their responsibilities.