Polly of Pebbly Pit Part 3

"Just fancy! Five dollars a week!" she cried, throwing herself back on the cus.h.i.+ons of the divan.

"It must be a mistake! I trust it isn't meant for fifty a week! That is about the price a good hotel would charge, but I had hoped this place would be more reasonable. However, I am quite sure that figure five is a mistake; no one can possibly give meals at that rate, no matter how meager the fare may be!" declared Mrs. Maynard.

"The writing is plain enough and so is the figure '5,' mother,"

returned Barbara, referring again to the letter, then handing it to her mother.

Mrs. Maynard adjusted her lorgnette and studied the figure given. "It _does_ seem to be five, without a doubt!" admitted she.

"Oh, well! it really doesn't matter much what the price is just as long as we have a good time this summer!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"But, Nolla, dear, it does matter! Your father is dreadfully upset about our plans. He says my Newport season will cost far more than I fancied it would, and you two girls going to a mountain resort like this is an extra cost. He will have to be away all summer on important business connected with the bank, and _that_ will cost extra money.

Altogether, he feels anything but indifferent," sighed Mrs. Maynard, handing the letter back to Barbara.

"Well, we are not responsible for father's worries over the bank's loans, but we _are_ concerned about the style and quality of meals to be served at this Brewster place for five dollars a week," scorned Barbara.

"I don't believe Anne Stewart would take us to a place where anything was horrid and cheap! She knows what's good as well as we do!" defended Eleanor, who was eager to go to this mountain ranch.

"Nolla is quite right, Bob. Anne is too particular to engage board in an undesirable house or hotel!" added Mrs. Maynard.

"Besides, these Brewsters have a farm, you know, and I suppose they raise lots of things that we have to pay such awful prices for--eggs, chickens, b.u.t.ter and vegetables," added Eleanor.

Mrs. Maynard and Barbara looked with admiration at the young girl, for that was an idea they had not thought of!

"Of course, that's why they can board us so reasonably! Then, too, I suppose they do their own marketing for other items of food, such as delicacies and supplies from the baker's! It does make a difference in the accounts, you see, when one markets!" ventured Barbara, glancing at her mother who never bothered about anything connected with the housekeeping--leaving it all for the servants to do.

"Now, Bob, don't criticize your mother's methods. I can't drudge about the house and take charge of the Social Clubs and Welfare Work as well," complained Mrs. Maynard.

"Of course not, Bob! Besides, mother never did know a good cut of beef from a poor one--they never taught domestic science in her day, you see," hurriedly interpolated Eleanor, hoping to waive a scene such as was a common occurrence between Barbara and her mother.

"Nolla, are you sarcastic about my education?" queried Mrs. Maynard, with dignity.

"Mercy, no! I only tried to show Bob the difference in present day methods and the past."

Mr. Maynard entered the room during Eleanor's reply, and smiled as he heard his youngest daughter's frank words. It was a keen pleasure to him to have one child fearless in thought and word. His son and elder daughter had been spoiled by fawning tutors and companions, so they had acquired the habit of white-was.h.i.+ng facts to suit the needs. Eleanor had been too delicate to attend any expensive and fas.h.i.+onable seminary and, being taught by Anne Stewart while in Denver, had acquired many of Anne's splendid ways.

"Frederick, what do you know about this mountain resort you asked Anne Stewart to write about?" asked Mrs. Maynard.

"Well, now that we are all together and have the time to talk this matter out, I will say my say," replied Mr. Maynard, seating himself and drawing Eleanor down beside him upon the divan.

"You remember the first year we were married--I had to visit Bear Forks to investigate a loan one of our clients at the bank asked us to make on a tract of timber-land? You wouldn't go with me when you heard we would have to camp out at night and ride horses over rough mountain-trails. That is the season you visited your school-friend in the East."

Mr. Maynard looked at his wife as he spoke and she nodded her head as if the memory was not pleasant to recall. Her husband smiled an enigmatical smile and continued his description.

"That is when I met Sam Brewster and his wife--they had been married about as long as we had, and their happy ranch-life struck me as being the most desirable existence I ever heard of."

Mrs. Maynard's lips curled in silent derision. She understood her husband's yearning for a simple life in place of the frivolous and empty excitement of the social career she had made for herself and family.

"The country about the sections I visited is beautiful and healthy, and as Nolla is ordered to a quiet, mountainous region for a time, I know of no place so suitable. Besides, Anne Stewart has been there, too, and she is wild over the place."

"But you are so old-fas.h.i.+oned in your ideas of living and pleasures, father, and I want to know if this place will suit me. Are the Brewsters members of the best set there, or will I be left absolutely unaided to find a way to meet young people such as we would like to know?" asked Barbara, anxiously.

"The Brewsters are by far the wealthiest family in that whole section of country, and I have heard that the ranch and house are the finest in the state. You met young John Brewster at the College Prom and you can tell what you think of _him._"

"Ye-es, young Brewster is all right. Every one seemed to think he is exceptionally nice," remarked Barbara.

Mrs. Maynard sighed with relief as she felt that a weight had been lifted from her mind. She was anxious to have her two daughters climb the social ladder to a higher plane than she had been able to reach, so she knew they must be careful to a.s.sociate with only those who had already arrived there through forbears or ambition.

"Then we can wire Anne at once to complete arrangements, Frederick?"

ventured the lady, watching her husband's expression.

"I'll attend to that but when can you be ready to go?" asked Mr.

Maynard, glancing from one to the other of the trio.

"The same day you start, Daddy!" declared Eleanor, giving her father a hug.

"Why, we simply can't, Nolla! Father leaves Chicago next week and we have so much to prepare before going to a place where we are apt to meet the very elite of society," cried Barbara.

"It will take fully two weeks to go through the girls' wardrobe, Frederick, and see that everything is the last word," added Mrs.

Maynard, explanatory of her eldest daughter's dismay.

"Well, fix things up any way you say, but I'm off for the bank when you begin talking dress," laughed Mr. Maynard.

"Now, Frederick, don't leave us like this! You know we will need money to fit out the girls, and then you _must_ have some idea of when Anne can expect them in Denver," hurriedly said Mrs. Maynard as her husband crossed the room to leave.

"Daddy, I don't want another thing to wear; I've got so many things now that it makes me tired to keep changing to suit the thousand and one occasions," declared Eleanor, running after her father to kiss him good-by.

"Nolla! I declare you will never grow up! Pray _walk_ like a lady when you cross a room, won't you?" complained Barbara.

Eleanor smiled up at her father and he pinched her thin cheek as he stooped to kiss her. Then, he waved his hand at the others and left the room. Once outside the door and safely out of hearing he chuckled to himself.

"Bob pictures a gay resort with troops of male admirers to play tennis and dance away the hours with. She is thinking of dress to captivate her 'moths,' but Nolla is thinking of the rural pleasures she has heard me describe to her. If Bob knew the truth, she'd never go, and poor little Nolla would lose the most wonderful opportunity of her young life. I'd best not prejudice Bob or mother, but just pay the bills for finery and whims and bide my time."

Soon after arriving at his bank-office he sent a message to Anne Stewart at Denver, advising her to engage the rooms at the Brewster home. As an afterthought, he added that he was anxious to have Eleanor get away about the time he left home for his trip.

That afternoon he carried home the reply from Anne Stewart: "Have engaged rooms and board from next week on. Wire when to expect you at Denver. Anne."

Mrs. Maynard had heard from her friends that day that their plans were changed and now they expected to leave Chicago sooner than she had thought. This made her agree quickly to having her daughters start the following week.

"But, mother, it can't be done. I need a riding habit, and tennis clothes, and a few new afternoon gowns and evening dresses!"

remonstrated Barbara.

"You had a new habit last fall, Bob," Eleanor said.

"But it has a long coat and full bloomers. No one is wearing that style, now. Everything is mannish coats and tight knickerbockers,"

argued Barbara.

"I will call up the tailor at once, girls, and have him give us the preference over other work," Mrs. Maynard replied.

"Not for me! I don't like the tight habits. I shall take my bloomer one," replied Eleanor, decidedly.