FINANCIAL PLANS

Dorothy felt it the most. As the oldest, she had the greatest sense of responsibility, and she felt that she ought in some way to amend the family fortunes, but just how she did not know. She well knew how difficult it is for a girl to earn any money without being especially trained in some branch of usefulness; and she had often thought that she would learn some one thing well, and so be prepared against a day of misfortune. And now the day of misfortune had come, and she was not ready for it. She could not bear to think of selling the town house; she would far rather sell the hotel, but that, it seemed, was out of the question.

Leicester, on the other hand, took a more cheerful view of the situation.

"Oh, I don't believe we'll have to sell the house," he said. "It isn't so bad as that, is it, grandma?"

"I don't know, Leicester," said the old lady helplessly; "I never did know much about business matters, and now I feel more confused than ever when I try to straighten them out."

"But if we could just get through this summer, grandmother, when we go back to the city in the fall I feel sure I can get a position of some kind and earn a salary that will help us all out."

"You are a good boy, Leicester," said Mrs. Dorrance; "but it is very uncertain about your getting a position; and too, I don't want you to leave school yet."

"No, indeed," said Dorothy. "It wouldn't be right for Leicester to leave school at fourteen; and anyway, I think he ought to go through college. Now I am sixteen, and I have education enough for a girl. So I'm the one to get a position of some kind in the fall, and earn money to help along."

"What could you do?" asked Lilian looking at her sister. She had ample faith that Dorothy could do anything she wanted to, and was merely anxious to know in which direction she would turn her talents.

"I don't know," said Dorothy, very honestly; "skilled labor is the only thing that counts nowadays, and I'm really not fitted for anything. I would like best to write things; but I don't believe anybody would buy them,—at least, not at first. So I suppose the only thing that I could do would be to go into a store."

"And sell candy?" asked Fairy, with a dawning interest in the plan.

"Don't talk like that, Dorothy dear," said grandma, gently; "of course I wouldn't let you go into a store, and also, I'm very much afraid that your poetry wouldn't find a ready market. That may come later, but it will probably be after years of apprenticeship."

"Well, something must be done," said Dorothy decidedly; "and you can't do it, grandma; so we children must. I think we are old enough now to take the responsibility off of your shoulders; or at least to help you in these troubles."

"I wish you could, my dear child, but I fear there is no practical way by which we can raise the money that I must have, except to sell the city house. It seems like a great sacrifice for a small reason; for you see if we just had money enough to pay our living expenses this summer, I could manage, I think, to come out nearly even by fall. But there is no way to provide for our living this summer, that I can see."

"Now I'm getting a clearer understanding of the case," said Leicester; "then if we children could earn money enough this summer to run the Dorrance Domain, we'd come out all right?"

"Yes, I think so, but how could you earn any?"

"I don't know," said Leicester, "but I've often read how other boys earned money,—and country boys, too. We might pick huckleberries and sell them, or we might raise a garden and sell things."

"Who would you sell them to?" asked Lilian, who was always practical. "Now I think a more sensible way would be to economize. Send away Tessie and Kathleen both; and then get along with fewer good things to eat. You know we've had everything just as we wanted it, and I'm sure we could cut down our table expenses. Then we could give up the horse,—although he is a dear——"

At this Fairy's wails began again, for she was devotedly attached to old Dobbin, the horse, and couldn't bear to think of parting with him.

"I think," said Grandma Dorrance, "that we will have to ask Mr. Lloyd to come up here and advise us; and then whatever he thinks best, we will do."

"Don't you have to pay Mr. Lloyd for his advice?" asked Dorothy, suddenly struck by the thought of what seemed to her an unnecessary expense.

"Yes," said Mrs. Dorrance; "that is, I pay him for attending to all of my business, and of course that includes his advice."

"I suppose we couldn't get along without him," said Dorothy, sighing; "but it does seem awful to pay him money that we need so much ourselves."

Mrs. Dorrance had a happy faculty of deferring unpleasant things to some future time; and not worrying about them meanwhile.

"Well," she said, "I will write to Mr. Lloyd to-morrow, and ask him to come up here; or if he can't come, to write me a letter advising me what to do. And until he comes, or his letter comes, we can't do anything in the matter, and there is no use worrying over it. I'd hate to discharge the servants, for you girls couldn't get along without anybody to help; and if we keep Tessie, Kathleen is no added expense, for her work well pays for her board."

This was not quite logical, but all were too miserable to notice it. For once the Dorrances went up-stairs to their beds without any whoops or hurrahs for Dorrance Domain.

As they were going up the great staircase, Lilian offered another of her practical, if not very attractive suggestions.

"We could," she said, "shut up the Domain, and all go to board with Mrs. Hickox for the rest of the summer. I'm sure she'd take us quite cheaply."

At this Leicester started the old Dorrance groan, which had not been heard before since their arrival at Lake Ponetcong.

They all joined in heartily, and groaned in concert, in loud, horrible tones that echoed dismally through the long corridors.

It was characteristic of their different natures that Grandma Dorrance went to bed, and immediately fell asleep in spite of her anxiety about her affairs; while Dorothy lay awake far into the night pondering over the problem.

She could form no plan, she was conscious only of a dogged determination that she would somehow conquer the existing difficulties, and triumphantly save the day.

She thought of Lilian's practical suggestions, and though she admitted them practical, she could not think them practicable. Surely there must be some way other than boarding at Mrs. Hickox's, or living on bread and tea.

"At any rate," she thought to herself as she finally fell asleep, "nothing will be done until Mr. Lloyd is heard from, and that will give me at least two or three days to think of a plan."

But try as she would, the next day and the next, no acceptable plan would come into Dorothy's head.

"We are the most helpless family!" she thought to herself, as she lay in the hammock under the trees. "There is positively nothing that we can do, that's of any use. But I will do something,—I will! I WILL!" and by way of emphasizing her determination she kicked her heel right through the hammock.

The other children did not take it quite so seriously. They were younger, and they had a hazy sort of an idea that money troubles always adjusted themselves, and somehow got out of the way.

Leicester and Dorothy talked matters over, for though younger, he considered himself the man of the house, and felt a certain responsibility for that reason. But he could no more think of a plan than Dorothy could, and so he gave the problem up in despair, and apparently Dorothy did also.

However, even a serious trouble like this, was not sufficient to cast down the Dorrances' spirits to any great extent.

They went their ways about as usual; they rowed and fished and walked and drove old Dobbin around, while their faces showed no sign of gloom or depression. That was the Dorrance nature, to be happy in spite of impending disaster.

Mr. Lloyd's letter came, but instead of helping matters, it left them in quite as much of a quandary as ever. He said that it would be impossible to sell the town house during the summer season. That the repairs must be made, or the tenants would not be willing to stay. He advised Mrs. Dorrance to retrench her expenses in every possible way, and stated further, that although the repairs must be made at once, it would not be necessary to pay the bills immediately on their presentation.

He said that although he would be glad to run up to see them in their country home, he could not leave the city at present, but he might be able to visit them later on.

Altogether it was not a satisfactory letter, and Leicester expressed open disapproval.

"That's a nice thing," he said, "to tell us not to pay our bills! As if we wanted to live with a lot of debts hanging over our heads!"

"I think it's lucky that we don't have to pay them right off," said Dorothy; "something may happen before we have to pay them."

Dorothy had a decided touch of the Micawber element in her nature and usually lived in the hope of something happening. And, to do her justice, it often did.

To the surprise of the others Fairy seemed very much impressed by the gravity of the situation, and more than that she seemed to think that it devolved on her to do something to relieve it. She walked over to Mrs. Hickox's to make her usual Wednesday visit, and though she skipped along as usual she was really thinking seriously.

She found Mrs. Hickox sitting on a bench under a tree paring apples, and Fairy sat down beside her.

"Of course I'm only twelve," she began, "but really I can do a great many things; only the trouble is none of them seem to be remunerary."

The two had become great friends, and though Mrs. Hickox was a lady of uncertain affections, she had taken a great fancy to Fairy, and in her queer way showed a real fondness for the child. She had also become accustomed to Fairy's manner of plunging suddenly into a subject.

"What is it you want to do now?" she said.

"Well, you see," said Fairy, "we've failed, or absconded, or something like that; I don't know exactly all about it, but we're awful poor, and we can't have anything more to eat. Some of us want to come to board with you, and some of us don't. You see it's very complicrated."

"Yes, it seems to be," said Mrs. Hickox; "but how did you get so poor all of a sudden? I always said you were all crazy and now I begin to believe it. Your grandmother——"

"Don't you say a word against my grannymother!" cried Fairy, with flashing eyes. "She's the loveliest, best and wisest lady in the whole world. Only somehow she just happened to lose her money, and so of course us children want to help her all we can, and I just don't happen to know what to do to earn money, that's all. And I thought you might know some way to tell me."

"I don't believe there's anything a child of your age could do to earn money," said Mrs. Hickox. "But now that I come to think of it, I did cut out a clipping just the other day, telling how to earn a good salary at home."

"Oh, that will be just the thing!" cried Fairy, dancing around in glee; "I'd love to earn a big salary and stay right there at the Dorrance Domain to do it. Do try to find it."

Mrs. Hickox was in the habit of sticking away her clippings in various queer places. She pulled out a bunch from behind the clock, and ran them over; "How to Take Out Ink Stains," "How to Wash Clothes in Six Minutes," "How to Protect an Iron Lawn Fence," "How to Stuff Birds, Taught by Mail," "Sure Cure for Rheumatism," "Recipe for Soft Soap."

None of these seemed to be what was wanted, so Mrs. Hickox hunted through another bunch which she took out of an old and unused teapot.

Fairy danced around with impatience while her hostess went through several collections.

"Oh, here it is," she said, at last, and then she read to the child a most promissory advertisement which set forth a tempting description of how any one might earn a large fortune by directing envelopes. The two talked it over, and Fairy wrote for Mrs. Hickox a sample of her penmanship, whereupon the lady at once declared that the scheme was impossible. For she said nobody could read such writing as that, and if they could, they wouldn't want to.

Fairy's disappointment was quite in proportion to the vivid anticipations she had held, and she was on the verge of one of her volcanic crying spells, when Mr. Hickox came in.

"Well, well, what's the trouble?" he said in his cheery way, and when Fairy explained, he responded:

"Well, well, little miss, don't you worry,—don't you worry one mite! Hickox'll fix it. It'll be all right!"

And so comforting was this assurance, and so sanguine was the Dorrance temperament, that Fairy felt at once that everything was all right, and dismissed the whole subject from her mind.

A SUDDEN DETERMINATION

One afternoon, Dorothy sat on the front veranda, day-dreaming.

It was difficult to say which was the front veranda,—the one that faced the road, or the one that looked out on the lake. The house could be considered to front either way.

But Dorothy was on the veranda that faced the road, and it was a lovely warm, hazy day, almost the last of June, and notwithstanding her responsibilities, Dorothy was in a happy frame of mind.

She watched with interest, a carriage that was coming along the road towards her. It was nothing unusual in the way of a carriage, but there was so little passing, that anything on four wheels was always noticeable. This was a buggy, and contained a lady and gentleman who seemed to be driving slowly and talking fast.

To Dorothy's surprise, when they reached the entrance of the Dorrance Domain, they turned in, and drove up towards the house.

As they stopped in front of the steps, Dorothy rose to greet them; but though courteous in manner, beyond bestowing a pleasant smile, they took no notice of her. The gentleman got out first, then helped the lady out, and after a blank look around for a moment, as if expecting somebody, he threw his lines carelessly around the whip and escorted the lady into the house.

The doors were all open as usual, and Dorothy was so amazed to see them walk past her, that she said nothing.

Grandma Dorrance was lying down in her room; the twins had gone out rowing, and Fairy was down at the dock with Mr. Hickox, fishing.

The two servants were far away in the kitchen, and so the strangers walked through the great hall and out on the west veranda without seeing anybody.

Nonplussed, they returned to the office, and noted the unused look of the desks and counters there.

"Where do you suppose the clerk can be?" said the gentleman.

"Let us ask that young girl on the veranda," said the lady, and together they returned to where Dorothy was sitting.

"Excuse me," said the strange gentleman, "but can you tell me where I may find the clerk of this hotel?"

"There isn't any clerk," said Dorothy, smiling, as she rose to greet them.

"Then will you tell me where I can find the proprietor?"

Like a flash, an inspiration came to Dorothy. She realized in an instant that these people were looking for board; and equally quickly came the thought that she might take them to board, and so earn some of the money that she had been worrying about. It would certainly be no more difficult to have boarders than visitors.

And so, on the impulse of the moment, Dorothy replied:

"I am the proprietor."

"But I mean the proprietor of the hotel,—the owner of the place."

"My grandmother is the owner of this hotel; and if anybody is proprietor of it, I am. May I ask if you are looking for board?"

"Yes, we are," said the lady, impulsively; "and if you are the proprietor, I'm quite sure we want board at this hotel."

"Will you sit down, and let us talk this matter over," said Dorothy, offering them veranda chairs. "I would like to explain just how things are."

The strangers seated themselves, and looked at Dorothy with some curiosity and a great deal of interest. It was certainly unusual to come across a pretty girl of sixteen, who, in her ruffled lawn frock looked quite like the typical guest of a summer hotel, and then to be calmly told that she was the proprietor.

Dorothy also looked with interest at her visitors. The man was tall and large, of perhaps middle age; his face was kind and serious, but a smile seemed to lurk in his deep blue eyes. The lady seemed to be younger, and was very pretty and vivacious. She had curly brown hair, and her brown eyes fairly danced with fun at the idea of Dorothy as a hotel proprietor.

"You see," said Dorothy, as they all sat down, "this hotel is my grandmother's property; but as we couldn't rent it, we have all come here to live for the summer. My grandmother is quite old, and not at all strong, so the household management is entirely in my charge. I would be very glad to take some boarders if I could satisfy them and make them comfortable. I have never kept boarders, but," and here Dorothy's smile brought out all her dimples, "I have entertained company successfully."

"I should be delighted to come," exclaimed the lady, "if you are quite sure you want us, and if your grandmother would not object."

"Oh, no, she would not object; the question is, whether I could make your stay satisfactory to you. We have plenty of room; I could promise you a good table and good service. But as there are no other guests, you might be lonely."

"We are not afraid of being lonely," said the gentleman, "for my wife and I are not dependent on the society of other people. But let me introduce myself before going further; I am Mr. James Faulkner, of New York City. Mrs. Faulkner and myself have been staying over at the Horton House, and that hotel is far too gay and noisy to suit our tastes. I'm a scientific man, and like to spend much of my day in quiet study. Mrs. Faulkner, too, likes to be away from society's demands, at least for a season. Therefore I must confess your proposition sounds most attractive, if the minor details can be arranged."

"I am Dorothy Dorrance," Dorothy responded, by way of her own introduction, "and my grandfather was Robert Hampton Dorrance. He has been dead for two years, and he left us this hotel property, which as we have been unable to rent, we decided to occupy. I would be glad to add to our income, and if you think you could be comfortable here, might we not try it for a week?"

"Oh, do let us try it," cried Mrs. Faulkner, eagerly; "do say yes, James,—this is such a lovely spot, and this hotel is quite the most attractive I have seen anywhere. Only fancy having no other guests but ourselves! it would be ideal. Oh, we must certainly come! I will decide it; we will come for a week at any rate."

"Very well, my dear, you shall have your own way. May I ask your rates, Miss Dorrance?"

Dorothy hesitated. She felt very inexperienced, and while she was fearful of over-charging, yet her practical instincts made her also beware of undervaluing the accommodations she knew she could supply.

"I don't know," she said, frankly, "what I ought to charge you. But you may have the best rooms in the house, and,"—here she smiled, involuntarily,—"as many of them as you wish. We have a really superior cook, and an experienced waitress. We have boats, and a horse and carriage, which you may use when you care to. As I know nothing of summer hotel charges, I would be glad if you would tell me what you think would be right for you to pay."

Dorothy's frank honesty, and her gentle refined courtesy made a most favorable impression on Mr. Faulkner, and he responded cordially.

"For what you offer, Miss Dorrance, I think it would be fair if we should pay you the same as we are now paying over at the Horton House; that is, fifteen dollars a week, each, for Mrs. Faulkner and myself."

Dorothy considered a moment. She was a quick thinker, and she realized that this amount of money would help considerably towards the living expenses of the family. And the price could not be exorbitant since Mr. Faulkner offered it himself.

"That will be entirely satisfactory to me," she said, "and I shall hope, on my part, to satisfy you. When would you like to come?"

"I'd like to come to-morrow," said Mrs. Faulkner. "I've stood the Horton House just as long as I can. And our week is up to-morrow. But, excuse me, my dear, aren't you very young for these responsibilities?"

"I'm sixteen," said Dorothy, "and grandmother thinks my talents are of the domestic order. But I could not undertake to have you here were it not that our cook is not merely a cook, but a general manager and all-round housekeeper. And now, Mrs. Faulkner, if you really think of coming, wouldn't you like to select your rooms?"

Just at this moment, Fairy came flying through the long hall at her usual break-neck pace, and landed turbulently in the midst of the group.

"Oh, Dorothy," she cried, "we caught fish, and fish, and fish!"

"This is my sister Fairy," said Dorothy, "and I must explain, that when I said it would be quiet here, I neglected to mention that there are four of us children; and the truth is we are dreadfully noisy at times. Fairy, dear, this is Mr. and Mrs. Faulkner, who are perhaps coming to board with us."

With the pretty politeness that always underlay the boisterousness of the Dorrances, Fairy put out her hand to the strangers, saying: "I'm very glad to see you. Are you really coming to stay with us? You must 'scuse me for rushing out like that, and nearly knocking you over, but I was so 'cited about my fish."

Fairy always looked more than usually fairy-like when she was excited. Her gold curls tumbled about her face, and the big white bow which topped them stood at all sorts of flyaway angles. She poised herself on one foot, and waved her hands dramatically as she talked.

Mrs. Faulkner was charmed with the child, and being possessed of some artistic ability, she privately resolved to make a sketch of Fairy at the first opportunity.

The two sisters escorted the guests through the hall, if Fairy's hop, skip and jump could be called an escort, and Dorothy showed them the lake view from the west piazza.

Mrs. Faulkner was enthusiastic over this, and declared that nothing would induce her to stay anywhere else but at the Dorrance Domain.

Mr. Faulkner, too, was impressed by the beauty of the lake. It was always most picturesque in the late afternoon, and just now the clouds, lit up by the western sun, were especially beautiful. The lake itself was not calm, but was covered with smooth little hills of water, which here and there broke into white foam.

Some distance out, a boat could be seen, containing two people.

"That's my brother and sister," said Dorothy; "they are twins. They are fourteen, and are perhaps the noisiest of us all. You see," she went on, smiling, "I'm preparing you for the worst. Grandmother had great difficulty with the New York boarding-house keepers, because they thought the Dorrance children too lively. So I want you to be fully warned that we do make a great deal of noise. Somehow we can't help it."

"We don't yell so much as we used to," said Fairy, hopefully; "you see, Mrs. Faulkner, when we used to be cooped up in a boarding-house we just had to make an awful racket, 'cause we were so miserabubble. But here we have room enough to scamper around, and so we don't holler so much."

"I rather think we can survive your demonstrations of animal spirits," said Mr. Faulkner, with his kindly smile. "It will be a pleasant relief from the brass band which is the noise-producer over at the Horton House."

"We haven't any brass band," said Dorothy, suddenly realizing that they lacked many things popularly supposed to belong to a summer hotel.

"That's one reason why I want to come," said Mrs. Faulkner.

"I hope you will decide to come," said Dorothy; "and now, if you will excuse me a minute, I think I will ask my grandmother to come down and sanction our plan."

Leaving the strangers to be entertained by Fairy, Dorothy ran up to her grandmother's room and tapped at the door.

A few moments served to explain matters to Mrs. Dorrance, and though a little bewildered by Dorothy's sudden proposal, she thought the plan a good one, and went down prepared to give the strangers a cordial reception.

The Faulkners were much pleased with the gentle, gracious old lady, and Mrs. Dorrance decided at a glance that the newcomers were sensible and kindly people.

A DARING SCHEME

The more they talked over the matter the more it seemed a sensible and feasible plan for all concerned. Mrs. Dorrance felt sure that with their two capable servants, and Mr. Hickox's varied usefulness, two boarders would make no more responsibility for Dorothy than her five guests had.

It was therefore decided to try the plan for a week, and if both sides were satisfied, to continue for the season.

Then Dorothy took the strangers up to select their rooms, and Mrs. Faulkner was as delighted at the idea of choosing from so many empty rooms, as the Dorrances had been on the night of their own arrival.

Agreeing to return the next day with their luggage, the Faulkners drove away, leaving the Dorrances in a high state of delighted excitement.

"You see," said Dorothy to her grandmother, "something has happened. I felt sure it would, though of course, I had no idea it would be the Faulkners. But thirty dollars a week will help a lot, and I'm sure we can make them have a good time. They're lovely people,—you can see that at a glance. Mrs. Faulkner is so sweet, I think I'd be willing to pay her just to sit around and smile at me."

"Instead of her paying you to let her do it," said grandma. "But it is a good plan, Dorothy; for now we can afford to keep Kathleen, and pay her fair wages, which I did not otherwise feel justified in doing."

"And Kathleen is a whole army of servants, all in one," said Dorothy. "She'll be delighted at the idea of staying with us. I'll go and tell her about it now."

"I'll go, too," cried Fairy. "I want to hear her talk."

Out to the kitchen the two girls ran and noisily burst in upon Tessie and her mother.

The two Irish women were feeling rather blue, for Mrs. Dorrance had told them that she could not afford to let them both stay with her, and she was not sure that she ought to keep even Tessie.

"Arrah thin, darlints, yez'll be afther breakin' down the dures! Why musht ye always come so shlam-bang?"

"We can't help it, Kathleen," cried Dorothy; "we're just made so, I guess. But this time we've something to tell you,—something important."

"Im-porrtant, is it? Sorra a good thing cud yez tell me, ixcipt that yer lady grandmother wud be afther lettin' me shtay here wid yez. Me an' Tessie is afther grievin' sore at thoughts of lavin' yez."

"That's just it, Kathleen," screamed Fairy, who in her excitement and enthusiasm was scrambling up Kathleen's broad back. It was a favorite trick of Fairy's to clamber up and perch herself on the big woman's shoulder, and the good-natured giantess assisted her with sundry pushings and pullings.

"That's jist it, is it? Well thin yez naden't be afther tellin' me anny more. Yez can kape the rist of yer importance to yersilves. If we can shtay up here, me and Tessie, we'll wurruk our finger ends off fer ye, wid no wages but a bite an' a sup."

"No, that won't do, Kathleen. Now just listen; we want to engage you as cook, and Tessie as waitress for the Dorrance Domain. It has become a hotel,—a regular summer hotel, and the boarders will arrive to-morrow."

"For the love of all the saints, miss! Is it boorders yez'll be afther takin'? Shure, an' that's foine. And it's Kathleen as 'll cook fer yez. An' Tessie, you young rascal, see to it that you wait on the table jist grand! Do there be manny a-comin', miss?"

"Two," replied Dorothy; "and they're lovely people."

"Yes, lovely people," cried Fairy, who, still on Kathleen's shoulder, was emphasizing her remarks by pounding Kathleen with her little fists; "one is a great, big, lovely gentleman, with big, blue eyes, and grayish-blackish hair. That's Mr. Faulkner. And his wife's a beautiful little lady, who smiles, and smiles, and smiles. Oh, they're scrumptious people, and I expect they will stay all summer. Oh, Dorothy, the twins are coming! let's go and tell them!"

Fairy sprang from Kathleen's shoulder to the table, and from there bounded to the floor, and grasping Dorothy's hand, the two ran away to tell the news, and met the twins on the veranda.

Lilian and Leicester were as glad as the rest to learn of the advent of the Faulkners, and at once began to make plans for the comfort and entertainment of their boarders.

"I shall take Mr. Faulkner out fishing," said Leicester, "and show him all the best spots to fish."

"I don't believe he'll care much for fishing," said Mrs. Dorrance. "He seems to me to be so interested in his scientific work, that I imagine he spends little time in recreation. I think that you'll all have to try to be a little quieter than usual, especially in the house."

"We will, granny dear," said Lilian; "if we're going to keep boarders, we're going to do it properly; I guess the Dorrances know when they can cut up jinks, and when they can't."

"Isn't it funny, though," said Leicester, "to think of our living in this hotel because nobody would rent it as a hotel, and now here we are, running a hotel ourselves. I'm going to get out the big register, and clean up that inkstand thing, and have the office all in working-order for them to register when they come to-morrow. Dorothy, you can be proprietor, but I'll be the clerk; and then after they register, I'll ring the bell for a bell-boy. And then I'll be the bell-boy. And then I'll send myself for a porter, and Mr. Hickox'll be the porter. Oh, it'll be great!"

"Shall we eat in the big dining-room?" asked Lilian. "It seems as if it would be more like a hotel."

"I don't know," said grandma; "that immense room is too large for seven people. The Faulkners seem very congenial, and I can't help thinking they would prefer to sit at the round table with us. However, they might prefer a table to themselves; so I think the best plan is to wait until they arrive, and ask them. In such matters we should be glad to meet their wishes."

"I shall keep most systematic accounts," said Dorothy; "and then I can tell just how much we make by having boarders. There are lots of blank books in the office, and I shall keep exact lists of everything I buy this week, and then see how it balances up at the end of seven days."

"If you expect to make any money out of this scheme," said Leicester, "you mustn't feed us all on the fat of the land, as you did when those people were visiting here."

"No," said grandma; "you can't do it, Dorothy. It is very pleasant to set dainty and tempting dishes before one's guests; but when it comes to a practical business arrangement it is necessary to be careful in such matters. I don't want you to be over-economical, but on the other hand you cannot afford to be extravagant."

"If you're going to be a boarding-house keeper, Dot," said Lilian, "you must set a table exactly like Mrs. Cooper's!"

At this speech, Leicester started the famous Dorrance groan, and its wails reached the ears of Mr. Hickox, who was sauntering near by in his aimless, wandering fashion.

"Thought I'd just come over and see what you're yowling about," he said pleasantly; "those screeches are enough to kill all the fish in the lake!"

"Come in, Mr. Hickox," cried Leicester; "we have a grand plan on hand, and as usual we shall want your help."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Hickox, "as usual. Hickox'll make it all right. What's up now?"

"We expect boarders to-morrow; and when they come, we want you to be on hand to look after their trunks and things. The Dorrance Domain has suddenly turned back into a hotel. Dorothy is proprietor, I'm clerk, and you're to be the porter."

"What am I?" said Lilian; "I want a regular position."

"Oh, you can be the elevator boy, or the carriage-door opener, whichever you like," said her brother.

"As we haven't any elevator, and our carriage hasn't any door, I won't be over-worked."

"We girls will all have to be upper servants," said Dorothy; "with so much extra work in the kitchen, we'll have to help a great deal as parlor-maids, and chambermaids, and dining-room maids."

"I'll sweep all the verandas every day," announced Fairy; "I do just love to fly around with that funny big broom-brush."

"Well, Hickox is yours to command," declared that genial gentleman; "whatever you want Hickory Hickox to do, that's as good as done! Excepting, of course, such various times as I might be otherwise employed. But I'll be porter all right, and I'll port them people's trunks right up to their rooms so fast, they'll think I'm an elevator. My! Mrs. Hickox, she'll be surprised to hear you people are going to have boarders! I must say, I'm some surprised myself. Well I must shuffle along now, and I'll be on deck when you want me to-morrow. Hickox will look after things. It'll be all right."

After the ungainly figure had shuffled away, the children still continued to make plans and offer suggestions for the new arrangement.

"We must be very methodical," said Dorothy, who was much in earnest in the matter, and who wanted to start out just right. "Mrs. Faulkner is so nice and sweet, I want to please her; and, too, if the Dorrances run a hotel, I want it to be run on the most approved plan."

"We'll each have an account book," said Fairy; "and I'll put down in mine, how many times I sweep the verandas each day."

"If you get around them all in one day, baby," said Leicester, "you'll do mighty well; and to do that, you'll have to get to work at daybreak and stick to it till sundown. There's an awful big number of square feet of veranda attached to this palatial mansion, I can tell you."

"Oh, pooh!" cried Fairy. "It won't take me all day, at all. I can fly around it in a minute. I'll work like a centripepede!"

"We'll keep the horse for this week, anyway," went on Dorothy; "for I shall have to go to market every morning, and it's so much quicker to go in the carriage than the boat. Sometimes you can go for me, Less, if I make out an exact list of what I want."

"All right," said her brother; "I don't think this keeping boarders is going to be such hard work after all. I wonder we didn't think of it sooner."

"I'm glad we didn't," said Dorothy; "I think it was nicer to have a few weeks all by ourselves, first. We've got to behave when the Faulkners get here. It will be just like it was at Mrs. Cooper's, you know."

This time Fairy started the groan, and again they all chimed in with those deep growling wails that always made Mrs. Dorrance clap her hands to her ears.

"For pity's sake!" exclaimed the long-suffering old lady; "don't make any reference to Mrs. Cooper while the Faulkners are here; for if they heard those fearful groans of yours, they'd leave at once."

"What's Mr. Faulkner like?" asked Leicester; "will he say, 'well, my little man,' to me?"

"No," said Dorothy, laughing at the remembrance; "Mr. Faulkner is an awful nice man. Not very young, and not very old."

"Like Jack Sprat's pig?" asked Leicester; "not very little and not very big."

"He isn't like anybody's pig!" said Fairy, indignantly. "He's a gentiliferous gentleman. I'm going to ask him to go to Mrs. Hickox's with me. He's scientiferic, and I know he'd like to read her newspaper clippings."

"I wouldn't ask him to go just at first, Fairy," said grandma; "wait until you get better acquainted."

"Well, anyhow? I'll take him to see the rabbits; he's sure to love them, they're such cunning, pudgy-wudgy little things."

"And I'm sure he will like Dare," said Lilian, patting the head of the big dog who lay at her feet.

"Such nice people as they seem to be, will surely like animals," said grandma; "but if they should not, then you must be very careful that they are not annoyed by them. Dare will learn for himself whether he is liked or not; but if Mrs. Faulkner doesn't care for kittens you must keep Mike out from under foot."

"I don't believe she'll care for kittens, so I'll take this one and drown it now," said Leicester, picking up the ball of fluffy Maltese fur, and starting towards the lake.

Fairy ran after him, screaming in pretended anguish, though she well knew her brother was only joking, being almost as fond of the kitten as she was herself.

The other two girls followed, and Dare followed them, and a general game of romps ensued.

Grandma Dorrance watched them from the veranda, feeling glad for the thousandth time that her dear ones were in their own home, where they could follow their own sweet will, without causing annoyance to any one.

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."