The Dorrance Domain Part 23

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-cla.s.s 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 a.s.sured them that the whole thing had pa.s.sed 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 rea.s.sure 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."

CHAPTER XVIII

AMBITIONS

It was truly astonishing, even to Dorothy, how easily the machinery of a big hotel could be made to move along. The Dorrances all agreed that the Faulkners were no trouble at all, and that their presence in the Dorrance Domain added greatly to the happiness of all concerned.

Doubtless the explanation of this lay in several different facts. To begin with, the Faulkners were most charming people; refined, tactful, and kind-hearted. It was their nature to make as little trouble as possible, wherever they might be.

On the other side, Dorothy's determination to succeed in her enterprise, grew with what it fed upon, and she became day by day more capable through experience. Also, she was ably a.s.sisted by Leicester and the girls, who were always ready to do anything she wished them to. Then, the servants were certainly treasures, and as Dorothy said, it would be a perfect idiot of a hotel proprietor who couldn't succeed under such advantages as she had.

With her success her ambitions grew.

Again sitting on the east veranda, one afternoon, she found herself wishing that another buggy would drive up and deposit two more such people as the Faulkners at her hotel office. If she could succeed with two, why not with four, or even six?

Indeed, in her imagination she saw a long procession of buggies bringing eager guests to the hospitality of the Dorrance Domain.

Acting on an impulse, she went in search of Mrs. Faulkner, and found that lady just coming down-stairs, dressed for afternoon, and quite ready for a chat.

So Dorothy carried her off to one of her favorite nooks which was a little vine-clad arbor on the east lawn.

This proprietor and guest had become firm friends in the few days they had been together. Dorothy admired Mrs. Faulkner's lovely gracious disposition, and her clever cultivated mind. Mrs. Faulkner saw great possibilities in Dorothy's character and took a sincere interest in the girl. Aside from this there was that subtle, inexplicable bond of sympathetic congeniality, which makes a real friendship possible.

"I want to talk to you seriously," said Dorothy.

"I'm all attention," said Mrs. Faulkner; "proceed with your seriousness."

"You and Mr. Faulkner have been here a week to-morrow," Dorothy went on, "and----"

"And you can't stand us any longer,--and you want to break it to me gently?"

"No, indeed, nothing of the sort! and you know that well. But I want to ask you frankly, and I want you to tell me honestly, how I have succeeded this week in what I have undertaken."

"What have you undertaken?" said Mrs. Faulkner, who dearly loved to make Dorothy formulate her thoughts.