CHAPTER 6
A Lodger to the Rescue
Grass was beginning to grow on the tiny lawn, all sorts of thrifty youngseedlings were popping up in the flower beds, and Jean's pansies wereactually beginning to blossom. The girls had trained the rampantVirginia creeper away from the windows and had coaxed it to climb theporch pillars. From the outside, no one would have suspected thatDandelion Cottage was not occupied by a regular grown-up family. Bookagents and peddlers offered their wares at the front door, and appearedvery much crestfallen when Bettie, or one of the others, explained thatthe neatly kept little cottage was just a playhouse. Handbills andsample packages of yeast cakes were left on the doorstep, and once abrand-new postman actually dropped a letter into the letter-box; Mabelcarried it afterward to Mrs. Bartholomew Crane, to whom it rightfullybelonged.
One afternoon, when Jean was rearranging the dining-room pictures--theyhad to be rearranged very frequently--and when Mabel and Marjory werebusy putting fresh papers on the pantry shelves, there was a ring at thedoorbell.
Bettie, who had been dusting the parlor, pushed the chairs into place,threw her duster into the dining-room and ran to the door. Alady--Bettie described her afterwards as a "middle-aged young lady withthe sweetest dimple"--stood on the doorstep.
"Is your mother at home?" asked the lady, smiling pleasantly at Bettie,who liked the stranger at once.
"She--she doesn't live here," said Bettie, taken by surprise.
"Perhaps you can tell me what I want to know. I'm a stranger in town andI want to rent a room in this neighborhood. I am to have my meals atMrs. Baker's, but she hasn't any place for me to sleep. I don't wantanything very expensive, but of course I'd be willing to pay a fairprice. Do you know of anybody with rooms to rent? I'm to be in town forthree weeks."
Bettie shook her head, reflectively. "No, I don't believe I do,unless--"
Bettie paused to look inquiringly at Jean, who, framed by thedining-room doorway, was nodding her head vigorously.
"Perhaps Jean does," finished Bettie.
"Are you _very_ particular," asked Jean, coming forward, "about whatkind of room it is?"
"Why, not so very," returned the guest. "I'm afraid I couldn't afford avery grand one."
"Are you very timid?" asked Bettie, who had suddenly guessed what Jeanhad in mind. "I mean are you afraid of burglars and mice and things likethat?"
"Why, most persons are, I imagine," said the young woman, whose eyeswere twinkling pleasantly. "Are there a great many mice and burglars inthis neighborhood?"
"Mice," said Jean, "but not burglars. It's a _very_ honest neighborhood.I think I have an idea, but you see there are four of us and I'll haveto consult the others about it, too. Sit here, please, in the cozycorner--it's the safest piece of furniture we have. Now if you'llexcuse us just a minute we'll go to the kitchen and talk it over."
"Certainly," murmured the lady, who looked a trifle embarrassed atencountering the gaze of the forty-two staring dolls that sat all aroundthe parlor with their backs against the baseboard. "I hope I haven'tinterrupted a party."
"Not at all," assured Bettie, with her best company manner.
"Girls," said Jean, when she and Bettie were in the kitchen with thedoor carefully closed behind them, "would you be willing to rent thefront bedroom to a clean, nice-looking lady if she'd be willing to takeit? She wants to pay for a room, she says, and she _looks_ very politeand pleasant, doesn't she, Bettie?"
"Yes," corroborated Bettie, "I like her. She has kind of twinkling browneyes and such nice dimples."
"You see," explained Jean, "the money would pay for Mr. Black's dinner."
"Why, so it would," cried Marjory. "Let's do it."
"Yes," echoed Mabel, "for goodness' sake, let's do it. It's only threeweeks, anyway, and what's three weeks!"
"How would it be," asked Marjory, cautiously, "to take her on approval?Aunty Jane always has hats and things sent on approval, so she can sendthem back if they don't fit."
"Splendid!" cried Mabel. "If she doesn't fit Dandelion Cottage, shecan't stay."
"Oh," gurgled Marjory, "_what_ a dinner we'll give Mr. Black and Mrs.Crane! We'll have ice cream and--"
"Huh!" said Mabel, "most likely she won't take the room at all. Anyhow,probably she's got tired of waiting and has gone."
"We'll go and see," said Jean. "Come on, everybody."
The lady, however, still sat on the hard, lumpy cozy corner, with hertoes just touching the ground.
"Well," said she, smiling at the flock of girls, "how about the idea?"
The other three looked expectantly at Jean; Mabel nudged her elbow andBettie nodded at her.
"_You_ talk," said Marjory; "you're the oldest."
"It's like this," explained Jean. "This house isn't good enough to rentto grown-ups because it's all out of repair, so they've lent it to usfor the summer for a playhouse. The back of it leaks dreadfully when itrains, and the plaster is all down in the kitchen, but the front bedroomis really very nice--if you don't mind having four kinds of carpet onthe floor. This is a very safe neighborhood, no tramps or anything likethat, and if you're not an awfully timid person, perhaps you wouldn'tmind staying alone at night."
"If you did," added Bettie, "probably one of us could sleep in the otherroom unless it happened to rain--it rains right down on the bed."
"Could I go upstairs to look at the room?" asked the young woman.
"There isn't any upstairs," said Bettie, pulling back a curtain; "theroom's right here."
"Why! What a dear little room--all white and blue!"
"I hope you don't mind having children around," said Marjory, somewhatanxiously. "You see, we'd have to play in the rest of the house."
"Of course," added Jean, hastily, "if you had company you could use theparlor--"
"And the front steps," said Bettie.
"I'm very fond of children," said the young lady, "and I don't expect tohave any company but you because I don't know anybody here. I shall beaway every day until about five o'clock because I am here with my fatherwho is tuning church organs, and I have to help him. I strike the noteswhile he works behind the organ. He has a room at Mrs. Baker's, but shedidn't have any place to put me. I think I should like this little roomvery much indeed. Now, how much are you going to charge me for it?"
Jean looked at Bettie, and Bettie looked at the other two.
"I don't know," said Jean, at last.
"Neither do I," said Bettie.
"Would--would a dollar a week be too much?" asked Marjory.
"It wouldn't be enough," said the young woman, promptly. "My father paysfive for the room _he_ has, but it's really a larger room than hewanted. I should be very glad to give you two dollars and a half aweek--I'm sure I couldn't find a furnished room anywhere for less thanthat. Can I move in tonight? I've nothing but a small trunk."
"Ye-es," said Bettie, looking inquiringly at Jean. "I _think_ we couldget it ready by seven o'clock. It's all perfectly clean, but you seewe'll have to change things around a little and fix up the washstand."
"I'm sure," said the visitor, turning to depart, "that it all looksquite lovely just as it is. You may expect me at seven."
"Well," exclaimed Marjory, when the door had closed behind theirpleasant visitor, "isn't this too grand for words! It's just likefinding a bush with pennies growing on it, or a pot of gold at the endof the rainbow. Two and a half a week! That's--let me see. Why! that'sseven dollars and a half! We can buy Mr. Black's dinner and have enoughmoney left to live on for a long time afterwards."
"Mercy!" cried Mabel. "We never said a word to her about taking her onapproval. We didn't even ask her name."
"Pshaw!" said Jean. "She's all right. She couldn't be disagreeable ifshe wanted to with that dimple and those sparkles in her eyes; but,girls, we've a tremendous lot to do."
"Yes," said Mabel. "If she'd known that the pillows under those ruffledshams were just flour sacks stuffed with excelsior, she wouldn't havethought everything so lovely. Girls, what
in the world are we to do forsheets? We haven't even one."
"And blankets?" said Marjory.
"And quilts?" said Bettie. "That old white spread is every bit ofbedclothes we own. I was _so_ afraid she'd turn the cover down and seethat everything else was just pieces of burlap."
"It's a good thing the mattress is all right," said Marjory. "But thereisn't any bottom to the water pitcher, and the basin leaks likeanything."
"We'll just have to go home," said Jean, "and tell our mothers all aboutit. We'll have to borrow what we need. We must get a lamp too, and someoil, because there isn't any other way of lighting the house."
The four girls ran first of all to Bettie's house with their surprisingnews.
"But, Bettie," said Mrs. Tucker, when her little daughter, helped bythe other three, had explained the situation, "are you _sure_ she'snice? I'm afraid you've been a little rash."
"Just as nice as can be," assured Bettie.
"Yes," said Dr. Tucker, "I guess it's all right. I know the organtuner--I used to see him twice a year when we lived in Ohio. His name isBlossom and he's a very fine old fellow. I met his daughter thisafternoon when they were examining the church organ, and she seemed apleasant, well-educated young woman--I believe he said she teaches akindergarten during the winter. The girls haven't made any mistake thistime."
"Then we must make her comfortable," said Mrs. Tucker. "You may takesheets and pillow-cases from the linen closet, Bettie, and you must seethat she has everything she needs."
Excited Bettie danced off to the linen closet and the others ran home totell the good news.
"I've filled a lamp for you, Bettie," said Mrs. Tucker, meeting Bettie,with her arms full of sheets at the bottom of the stairs. "Here's a boxof matches, too."
When Bettie was returning with her spoils to Dandelion Cottage shealmost bumped into Mabel, whom she met at the gate with a pillow undereach arm, a folded patchwork quilt balanced unsteadily on her head, andher chubby hands clasped about a big brass lamp.
"The pillows are off my own bed," said Mabel. "Mother wasn't home, butshe wouldn't care, anyway."
"But can you sleep without them?"
"Oh, I'll take home one of the excelsior ones," said Mabel. "I can sleepon anything."
Jean came in a moment later with a pile of blankets and quilts. She,too, had a lamp, packed carefully in a big basket that hung from herarm. Marjory followed almost at her heels with more bedding, towels, afourth lamp, and two candlesticks.
"Well," laughed Bettie, when all the lamps and candles were placed in arow on the dining-room table, "I guess Miss Blossom will have almostlight enough. Here are four big lamps and two candles--"
"I've six more candles in my blouse," said Mabel, laughing and fishingthem out one at a time. "I thought they'd do for the blue candlesticksMrs. Crane gave us for the bedroom."
"Isn't it fortunate," said Jean, who was thumping the mattressvigorously, "that we put the best bed in this room? Beds are such hardthings to move."
"Ye-es," said Bettie, rather doubtfully, "but I think we'd better tellMiss Blossom not to be surprised if the slats fall out once in a whileduring the night. You know they always do if you happen to turn overtoo suddenly."
"We must warn her about the chairs, too," said Marjory. "They're none ofthem really very safe."
"I guess," said Jean, "I'd better bring over the rocking chair from myown room, but I'm afraid she'll just have to grin and bear the slats,because they _will_ fall out in spite of anything I can do."
By seven o'clock the room was invitingly comfortable. The washstand,which was really only a wooden box thinly disguised by a muslin curtaingathered across the front and sides, was supplied with a sound basin, awhole pitcher, numerous towels, and four kinds of soap--the girls hadall thought of soap. They were unable to decide which kind the lodgerwould like best, so they laid Bettie's clear amber cake of glycerinesoap, Jean's scentless white castile, Marjory's square of green cucumbersoap, and Mabel's highly perfumed oval pink cake, in a rainbow row onthe washstand.
The bed, bountifully supplied with coverings--had Dandelion Cottage beensuddenly transported to Alaska the lodger would still have had blanketsto spare, so generously had her enthusiastic landladies provided--lookedvery comfortable indeed. At half-past seven when the lodger arrived withapologies for being late because the drayman who was to move her trunkhad been slow, the cottage, for the first time since the girls hadoccupied it, was brilliantly lighted.
"We thought," explained Bettie, "that you might feel less frightened ina strange place if you had plenty of light, though we didn't really meanto have so many lamps--we each supposed we were bringing the only one.Anyway, we don't know which one burns best."
"If they should _all_ go out," said Mabel, earnestly, "there are candlesand matches on the little shelf above the bed."
When the lodger had been warned about the loose slats and theuntrustworthiness of the chairs, the girls said good-night.
"You needn't go on _my_ account," said Miss Blossom. "It's pleasant tohave you here--still, I'm not afraid to stay alone. You must always dojust as you like about staying, you know; I shouldn't like to think thatI was driving you out of this dear little house, for it was nice of youto let me come. I think I was very fortunate in finding a room so nearMrs. Baker's."
"Thank you," said Jean, "but we always have to be home before darkunless we have permission to stay any place."
"I _have_ to go," confided Mabel, "because I was so excited that Iforgot to eat my supper."
"So did I," said Marjory, frankly, "and I'm just as hungry as a bear."
"Everybody come home with me," said Jean. "We always have dinner laterthan you do and the things can't be _very_ cold."