Ethel Morton at Sweetbriar Lodge Part 21

houses by mistake."

"It is much more wholesome for a family to have a house to itself, than for many families to be crowded into one building," said Mrs. Morton.

"I don't see why," objected Tom, who had been born and reared in New York. "The large buildings are wonderfully constructed now-a-days for ventilation and sanitation. They couldn't be better in that respect."

"That's true," said Mrs. Morton, "but a family loses something of its privacy when it lives in a building with other people. The householder is responsible for his own heating, his own side-walk, and so on, for all matters whose good care makes for the happiness of his family. The apartment dweller loses that work for the well-being of his family, when he lets go its responsibility."

"I dare say you are right, Mrs. Morton," said Tom, "but in these days of co-operation, it seems to me you gain something by uniting, as apartment house people practically do, to hire some one to take the responsibility of the heating arrangements, the side-walks, the ashes, and so on."

"It all depends on the conditions," returned Mrs. Morton. "In New York, especially on Manhattan Island, where land is so valuable that buildings must go up in the air, such co-operation has become desirable, but where there is plenty of s.p.a.ce, it seems better for every household to be separate as far as possible."

The chauffeur called their attention, as they pa.s.sed through Logan Square, to the fact that this was the fourth city square they had seen since they had been in his care.

"On our way south from the Penn Treaty Park, we went through Franklin Square, and then you saw Washington Square when you were down by Independence Hall. This morning you saw Rittenhouse Square. Logan is the fourth. These four squares were laid out by William Penn as a part of the original design of the city."

Not far from Logan Square they were enabled to reach the bank of the Schuylkill, and the rest of the afternoon they spent in the lovely Park through which flows this river and the picturesque little Wissahickon.

Their first visit was to the Zoo, which the chauffeur told them was one of the finest in the United States. They invested in peanuts and small cakes and made themselves popular with the animals whose cages they pa.s.sed.

Then they drove on, gliding swiftly in and out among the stately trees which the engineers of the Park had had the good sense to leave as they found them. Along the Wissahickon they noticed many small inns, all of which showed signs, inviting pa.s.sers-by to come in and partake of "Cat-fish and Waffles."

"I can understand the waffle supply being limited only by the energy of the cooks," exclaimed Roger, as he read one of the numerous summonses, "but if they catch the cat-fish in the Wissahickon they must keep an army of fishermen out in the boats all day long!"

"I wish we could go out on the river," murmured Helen, as they whirled along the banks of the Schuylkill. "It looks so refreshing there."

"I think we can get a barge at one of these boat houses and go up the river a little way," suggested Mrs. Morton, turning inquiringly to the chauffeur.

"It's a pretty bit from about here up to a place called 'The Lilacs,'" he answered. "It's a pretty little club house."

"Oh, do lets do it," cried Ethel Blue excitedly. "It would be lovely."

So they went to a near-by boat house and made the arrangements. The boats were large, with seats for four rowers besides the seats in the stern and bow.

The Ethels had learned to row at Chautauqua the summer before, so they occupied one seat.

The three boys each took one of the other seats, each rowing a single oar. Helen sat on the seat with Tom, Margaret with Roger, and Dorothy with James.

Mrs. Morton and d.i.c.ky sat in the stern, and Della played look-out in the bow.

It was a charming pull between sh.o.r.es beautiful by nature and gay with boat houses from which merry parties were establishing themselves in boats and barges and canoes. The rowers found the trip not too hard upon the muscles, even the Ethels saying that they were not at all tired, when The Lilacs came in sight.

The car met them at the Club House because they had to go back to the hotel and pack their bags in order to catch the train for home. The chauffeur had brought up with him a man from the boat house, to take the barge back where it belonged.

They returned over different streets to the city so that they felt that they had a good idea of the geography of the town.

"I've had a perfectly stunning time, Mrs. Morton," said Tom, as he bade her "Good-bye" on the train and thanked her for her care. "It has been splendid fun, and my only grief is that I am afraid Helen may have fatigued her brain, remembering all that history!"

Helen wrinkled her nose at him, but she laughed good-naturedly and agreed with him that the trip had been great fun.

CHAPTER XI LIGHTS AND A FALL

It was not often that Ethel Blue took a violent fancy to any one.

Although she had something of the temperament that artists claim to have, she also had great reserve, and she found the companionship of her cousins, Ethel Brown and Dorothy, quite sufficient for her.

Now, however, she was filled with admiration for Margaret's aunt, Miss Graham. Miss Graham suited her in so many ways. She was good to look at, and Ethel found herself gazing at her wholesome, amiable face, filled with life and earnestness and fun, and enjoyed it quite as much as if she had great beauty.

Then, Miss Graham, because of her occupation as an interior decorator, knew something about art, and Ethel Blue wanted to know how to draw and paint, and how to appreciate pictures. She found that she never met Miss Graham without realizing afterwards that she had learned something from her. Perhaps it was only the meaning of a new phrase, or perhaps Miss Daisy called her attention to the light on the group of figures in some picture, or to the harmonies of color in the landscape. Whatever it was, it was not brought out in any preachy way and yet Ethel Blue found herself with quite a store of information that had come from her new friend.

Miss Graham did not seem to single out Ethel Blue for particular attention. They naturally drifted together when there was a large party, because their tastes were similar.

"I think your aunt Daisy is nicer than any aunt in the world except my aunt Marion," Ethel Blue confided to Margaret one day.

"That's just about what James and I think," said Margaret.

"Has she finished her Englewood house?" inquired Ethel.

"Yes, that was done some time ago. That's why she has been able to go to see Mrs. Smith so many times recently. She has spent several afternoons at Sweetbrier Lodge, you know."

Remembering this, Ethel Blue went to the new house one afternoon especially to see if Miss Graham was there. She had no definite reason for doing so--she merely thought she would like to see her. By good luck Miss Graham was there, as she had brought out some samples of hangings to show to Mrs. Smith, and she was waiting on the terrace for her to come, and resting as she waited.

"I'm glad to see you, child," she called to Ethel Blue, and Ethel did not resent being called a child, for she realized that it was merely an endearing word coming from Miss Daisy's lips.

"Bring one of those canvas chairs over here beside me," she urged, "and we'll look at the view and talk a while."

"Isn't it going to be lovely when the real furniture is on the terrace here?" said Ethel Blue eagerly.

"The view is lovely, no matter what the chairs are," returned Miss Graham, smiling at her affectionately. "When do you think your aunt is coming?"

"I don't know. Did she expect you? Shall I run back to the house and tell her you are here?"

"No, probably I'm a little early and I shall enjoy sitting here and talking with you until she comes."

Ethel felt much complimented by this desire on Miss Graham's part and placed her chair beside her.

Their eyes looked out across the field with its brook and the trees that sheltered Mr. Emerson's house. Across the street the meadows, rich with the field flowers of late summer, stretched away towards the distant river, and beyond that were more trees rearing their heights across the sky.

As they looked a shadow fell on the meadow and moved swiftly across it.

"It looks as if some huge birds were flying between the earth and the sun," smiled Miss Daisy.

"Doesn't it go fast!" returned Ethel Blue.

"Notice the change in the color of the meadow, when the sunlight is hidden for a minute and then falls again on the vegetation."

Ethel Blue nodded, for she saw that the change was almost as if a sheet of colored gla.s.s had been held over a strong electric light.