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"During the winter that General Washington and his Lady were stationed at Morristown, there was lots of doings all about the county. You'll read in the history of Lady Washington, how she was entertained by the first families about here--the Fords, the Footes, and others.
"Our great-grandmother was a fine needlewoman and went about to the houses making gowns and cloaks for the ladies. She always saved the sc.r.a.ps of silk and stuff that was wasted, and of these she patched several quilts. On the back of each bit of these materials, she pasted little book-muslin tickets that had the name and date printed on it, of the lady and the occasion she wore the gown. So on the back of each of these pieces is still to be found the printing of that ancestress of mine."
"Oh, isn't this interesting!" exclaimed Polly, eagerly.
And Eleanor asked: "Where are the other quilts?"
"We don't exactly know what happened to the others she made; but this one came right down from grandmother's mother to her, then to my mother, and now to me."
"Would any price tempt you to sell it?" asked Polly.
"Nothin' on earth, whiles I live. But I haven't any children, and goodness only knows what will become of the dear old heirloom. Why did you ask?"
"How I would love to own it! Not for its value in money but really to hold it as a precious patriotic reminder of those days when the ladies, even though they dressed fine and had good times, performed such heroic and almost super-human deeds for the Army," explained Polly.
Mrs. Johnson gazed keenly at the girl's face for a few moments, then said: "Tell me your name and address: I am going to write it out now, that this quilt is to be yours any time I die; and you must be as careful of it as we have been. Always keep tar-paper, or tobacco in it, during summer when moths fly about."
Polly thanked the lady very seriously and promised to be most careful of it in every way, but she said she hoped Mrs. Johnson would live a long time to enjoy the quilt as her own family relic.
On the drive back through Morristown that day, Mrs. Fabian had Carl stop at Mr. Van Styne's auction rooms, but the old man was not in, and the door was locked. A sheet of paper tacked inside the sash of the door, announced that the owner was at Parsippany numbering household goods for an auction to be held in two weeks' time.
Mrs. Fabian made a note of the name and location of the house where the sale was to be held, and came back to the automobile. She showed the paper to the girls, and said:
"We'll try to get out here for that sale. But I'll write Mr. Van Styne first, and ask him what sort of things the people have."
"Yes, it would be silly to come so far and find the house contained nothing but horrid old modern stuff," said Eleanor.
Arriving home, late that afternoon, Mrs. Fabian was given a letter sent from the old auctioneer at Morristown. He had kept his word and notified the young collectors of the sale about to be held at Parsippany: the sale they had heard about that day.
"He says, in this letter," explained Mrs. Fabian after reading it, "the old farm-house where the vendue will take place, is filled with real old furniture; the family that owned the farm have held it for five generations. Mr. Van Styne admits that he is not enough of a connoisseur to judge the actual value of the antiques, but there are some mahogany pieces, and loads of queer old things that _his_ wife would have kept in the attic, or split up for kindlings. As he thinks this is what is now called 'Period Furniture,' he would suggest that we run out and have a look at it before the day of the sale."
"The letter sounds exactly like him, doesn't it?" laughed Polly.
"Yes, but it is very nice of him to be so honest about it. Most auctioneers would tell us the furniture was wonderful," returned Mrs.
Fabian.
"When do you think we can run out there, Mrs. Fabian?" asked Eleanor, eagerly.
"We'll find out what day Carl can best arrange for the trip. We mustn't 'drive a willing horse to death,' you know."
Later in the evening, the telephone bell rang and Polly was called to the 'phone. The maid who answered the ring said it was a man's voice but she had not been able to understand the name.
Eleanor heard her chum say: "Oh, really! We've been wondering what became of you. It was so surprising to find you were an old friend of our Mr.
Dalken's and then never hear from you again, or have anyone know where you had gone."
Mrs. Fabian glanced questioningly at Eleanor, but the girl shook her head in token of her ignorance of who the caller could be. Then they heard Polly say: "Why, I reckon so. If you'll hold the wire a moment, I'll run and ask Mrs. Fabian."
A few moments later, Polly rushed into the room and said eagerly: "Jack Baxter is on the 'phone and wants to know if he may come in, tomorrow evening, Mrs. Fabian. He says he has a little furniture commission for Nolla and me to take care of."
Mrs. Fabian immediately replied that the young man would be welcomed the following evening, and Polly hurried back to deliver the invitation.
Eleanor waited until she heard the conversation over the telephone resumed between the two, then she said to Mrs. Fabian:
"I bet anything, that Jack Baxter is really in love with Polly! I watched him all that time, after he was formally introduced by Mr. Dalken, and he just hung on her every word and act."
Mrs. Fabian smiled. "That is the usual experience the young men have with Polly. I think the very fact that she is unmindful of her attractions, coupled with her indifference to the attentions of the male s.e.x, acts as a spur to them; each tries to see if she will not capitulate to his individual charms."
Eleanor laughed. "You speak as if you believed the young men to be egotistical enough to _think_ they were charming."
"They do, Nolla!" retorted Mrs. Fabian. "Every Adam's son firmly believes he is more alluring and attractive to a girl, than his friends. That is why they all follow tamely after a girl who has no time for them: they cannot believe it _possible_ that she is not overcome with their fascinations."
Eleanor smiled as she listened, then she remarked: "I guess I'll try Polly's strategy and see if the beaus line up for me."
"You have no need to experiment with any new tricks," replied Mrs.
Fabian, warningly. "There are enough sighing young men already, waiting to break their hearts and necks, for a mere glance from those impish eyes of yours."
Eleanor laughed merrily at her chaperone's words, but Polly's return to the room interrupted their little talk.
"What do you think?" demanded Polly, as soon as she was in the room.
Not giving them time to answer, she said: "Jack Baxter is going to furnish a bachelor apartment in the city, and says he is going to give Nolla and me the contract for doing it. It will be our very first work as interior decorators!"
"Oh," gasped Eleanor, "how can we do it?"
Polly looked amazed at such a question, and retorted: "Why, with money and brains, to be sure!"
"Is that why he's coming tomorrow evening?" asked Eleanor.
"Yes; he is now staying at Mr. Dalken's apartment, and both of them are coming over tomorrow. He says he has been West since we last saw him, and he stopped at Pebbly Pit to see the folks, on his way back from the Coast. That is why he has not been heard from--he was called away so suddenly, and just got back today."
"I wonder why he took all the trouble to go to Pebbly Pit?" said Eleanor.
"He didn't know a soul there!"
"That's what I asked him, and he says he will tell us all about it tomorrow night," explained Polly.
CHAPTER XI
POLLY'S FIRST CONTRACT
Promptly at eight, Jack Baxter and Mr. Dalken were announced to Polly and Eleanor. The Fabians had gone to the Opera and Mr. Dalken was supposed to act as chaperone for the evening.
"This is a new experience for me," laughed he, "but not one that I dislike. In fact, I will be glad to offer my services in the same capacity, at any time, for you girls."
"Better beware how you offer yourself on such an altar," teased Polly, trying to appear calm and composed, whereas she was keyed up to hear about the proposed work young Baxter wished them to do for his new apartment.