Polly in New York
“I’m sure I don’t know. Is it, Nolla?” laughed Polly.
Just then a brusque voice said: “Name and address please – and twenty-five per cent deposit money.” The girls looked up in bewilderment. Who was the man?
He seemed to read their thoughts, for he smiled. “I am the cashier. Everyone has to pay down a cash deposit on their bids. Everything you buy has to be removed by Saturday, or we are not responsible for it after that.”
“Oh!” Polly and Eleanor looked at each other. They were trying to figure out how much money he wanted.
“Here – I’ll pay the deposit. About thirty dollars, isn’t it?” said Anne, in a business-like tone.
“Yes, thank you. Now name and address, please?”
“What’s the number of our stable, Anne?” laughed Eleanor.
When Anne gave the address the cashier looked surprised. “Oh, have you rented the Studio down the street?”
The girls bowed wonderingly, and he added: “The artist who lived there for a number of years, used to drop in here every week just for the entertainment of picking up curios. In fact, I saw him here a few minutes ago. He told me he would give fifty percent advance to the tenant who leased that place. Here’s a chance for you to make money if you want to give up the Studio.”
“We want a home more than money, mister!” declared Polly.
“You’ve said it, Poll! If we give up this studio we may have to go back and live in our gold mine, because New York hasn’t any homes left, this year,” laughed Eleanor.
The cashier had not missed the mention of “our gold mine” and determined to do his utmost to please these ladies. Hence he whispered: “I’ll look after everything you buy here, and don’t worry about moving it away on Saturday. Next week will do, if you are not ready to get things out this week.”
“Polly, Polly! There goes a high-boy that matches the bed you got!” cried Eleanor, at this moment.
“They are pieces of the same set. Strange to say, they came from the very place you rented. The artist has to sell out because he cannot find an apartment, and there is no storage room for his furniture,” explained the cashier.
So Polly secured the high-boy for sixty dollars and felt very proud of her purchases. Eleanor bought a pair of brass fire-dogs and irons, and Anne bid on a large etching. When it was knocked down to her, she turned to her mother and said: “I really do not want it. What under the sun did I get it for?”
And Mrs. Stewart laughed. “It’s always the way at these vendues. One gets all kinds of things one never needs.”
“Then let’s get out. Girls, I’m going now,” whispered Anne, rising to leave.
The cashier hurried over when he saw the four new customers about to go, and said, “The artist would like very much to meet his successors to the Studio.”
At the same moment, a grey-haired gentleman bowed and smiled, and the group waited expectantly. Anne and Polly smiled also.
“You are the kind friend who advised us, yesterday, when we had to leave the car,” Anne said, pleasantly.
“Yes, but I never dreamed I was directing you right to my front door,” rejoined the artist.
“Well, Mr. Fabian, as long as you’ve met before, I’ll go about my business,” and the cashier hurried away, leaving the five people in the adjoining room.
Anne proceeded to introduce her friends and then added: “It was providential that we went through that street. Now we have a home to our liking.”
“I am delighted that my successors will appreciate the place, but I am still seeking for quarters. Had I choked my anger and swallowed my pride, when the owner refused to keep his word about the stable-doors, I would still be enjoying my cozy Studio.”
Mr. Fabian then told the ladies how he had taken the stable in its raw state and turned it into the lovely dwelling it now was. He had paid for all the hardwood floors, for the partitions on the ground-floor, and for the kitchen plumbing.
“Why, it must have cost you a small fortune,” ventured Anne. “And now it seems too bad that you can’t enjoy it.”
“But I did enjoy it, my dear young lady – for five years. And I only paid sixty dollars a month, during that time, too. When the owner raised me, this year, to ninety I rebelled, because I had spent so much money on beautifying the rooms. I thought he would really relent and say I could have it for about seventy-five a month. I was mistaken.”
“We’re paying a hundred and fifty a month and make all repairs, ourselves,” Anne ventured.
“He took advantage of the unusual conditions. But you have a better bargain, even so, than if you had rented a seven-room apartment, uptown, for two or three thousand a year.”
By this time they were standing on the corner once more, and Mr. Fabian seemed ready to leave them. Then Polly remembered that the cashier had said the bed and high-boy she just bought had come from the Studio.
“Oh, Mr. Fabian, excuse me for speaking of it, but did you really own the four-poster I got at the sale just now?”
“Yes, my dear. It was in the room my little daughter occupied when she was home. She is now in Paris taking an art course.” The girls were deeply interested in this intimate information. “That box-spring with the mattress on the bed was made to order of the best material I could buy. You’ll find the silk-floss in that mattress is so soft you’ll never care to get up, once you rest upon it.”
“But I didn’t know the spring and mattress went with the bed,” Polly said, amazed.
“Oh, yes. That is the way they generally sell other folks’ goods. But I wish to say, that Nancy only used the bed a few weeks, as she had a splendid opportunity to enter a class in a friend’s school in Paris, so we started her across without delay. My wife went, too, to look after her; that is one reason I refused to pay the increased rent; I thought it was too much for one lone man to pay.”
“It almost makes me feel as if we ought to take you in to live with us,” said Mrs. Stewart, sympathetically. “If there only was one extra bedroom, now, we could make you a member of our family just as well as not.”
“But we haven’t that extra room!” laughed Anne, wondering what this stranger would think of her mother’s free western hospitality.
What he thought was soon expressed. “I certainly appreciate such unusual kindness and I see it is genuine. So I will dare to do this: I shall love to drop in, now and then, and see how you all are doing. Perhaps I can be of some assistance to you, in various ways.”
“I know you can!” declared Eleanor, eagerly. “Polly and I are taking up art and interior decorating and we need lots of ideas from grown-ups who have had experience. You can advise us that way.”
“Begin your regular home visits a week from Sunday, Mr. Fabian. We will be settled then and ready to welcome you to our house,” added Anne.
Then they parted and Mr. Fabian went downtown, while the four companions walked northwards to the hotel. As they walked, Anne said: “It certainly was queer how that gentleman sent us past his own home and we saw it. Now, he turns out to be just the kind of a friend Polly and Eleanor will need to advise them about art school.”
“Anne, what shall we do with the rest of the afternoon? We still have two hours before dinner-time,” said Eleanor, glancing at her wristwatch.
“We can go over to the nearest shop and get Polly an everyday hat. I can’t bear to see this lovely one hacked out at auction rooms. She needs complete outfits of underwear, too, but we may be too late at the shops, for that.”
“Anne, I saw in the paper this morning, when you were looking for apartments, that a fine Fifth avenue shop is having a sale of early fall models. Let’s go up and get Polly’s hat there,” advised Eleanor, eagerly.
Anne laughed. “You are willing to get one for yourself, too, eh?”
So both girls were supplied with chic hats before they returned to the hotel. There they found an invitation from the Latimers to come, informally, and dine with them that night. Dr. and Mrs. Evans would try to come in later.
“It’s now five-thirty. Can we get dressed and make it, in time?” asked Eleanor, anxiously.
“Oh, yes; we haven’t far to go, you know. A taxi will take us there in ten minutes,” replied Anne.
All was hurry and bustle, then, and when the two girls emerged from their rooms dressed in their new gowns, Anne felt that they did her credit. She could not but remark at the great improvement that clothes, well-fitting and of fine material, made in Polly’s appearance. Now the girl looked positively beautiful.
A pleasant evening ensued, Jim and Ken insisting upon the right to escort the ladies home after everyone had said good-night.
“You know, girls, Ken and I are going to Yale next week?” said Jim, as they started down Broadway.
“So your father said, to-night. We will miss you, Jim,” returned Anne.
“But we’ll be home every chance we get – Thanksgiving, Christmas and other times,” Kenneth said, hopefully.
“Nolla and I will be awfully busy in school, and in trying to get started in the art classes,” added Polly.
“I hope you have the stable settled before we leave the city. We want to give you-all a house-warming,” said Kenneth.
“That will be great! Let’s have it, anyway, even if everything is not in apple-pie order in the house,” exclaimed Polly.
So before they parted, that night, it was all arranged that the house-warming should take place the next Tuesday evening. The boys were leaving for college on Thursday, and the last few days before starting in the new school, would be busy ones for the girls.
“All right, we’ll tell the folks the fun is on for next Tuesday, then,” said Jim, as they shook hands.
“And it must be a regular surprise, you know – we bring our own refreshments and everything,” laughed Kenneth.
“Oh, no! That is the least we can do in return for all you folks have done for us. We will furnish your refreshments!” declared Eleanor, positively.
“As long as you furnish plenty, all right. But remember, girls, that Ken and I still have our Rocky Mountain appetites!”
CHAPTER IV – BARGAINS, BARGAINS EVERYWHERE!
With the worry of house-hunting gone, the young friends felt at liberty to be deliberate while apportioning their time. Anne took Polly and Eleanor to the West End School, the morning following their meeting with Mr. Fabian, and introduced them to the proprietress as the two young ladies she had written about.
Polly thought the elegant mansion that looked more like a prince’s residence than a school, would keep her from concentrating upon her lessons. While Anne and the principal of the select school talked business, Polly glanced about the reception room.
The rugs were beautiful, most of them having the faded soft colors of the antique Persian and Turkish. But the furniture was too gorgeous in upholstering for the type of room. Then there were heavy boxed oil paintings in rich gilt frames, hanging on the walls; and teakwood pedestals holding statuettes and busts; and onyx stands with palms. The mantel was loaded with bric-a-brac of all sorts. Many other minor items showed bad taste in whoever furnished the room.
Polly felt all this, but could not explain just why she resented such a conglomeration of color and furnishings. But Eleanor, having had the results of a decorator’s judgment displayed in her home, in Chicago, felt inclined to smile at what she saw about her. It was sure evidence of Polly’s improvement in artistic interiors since the day she thought the green window-shades quite the thing, to this time when the indiscriminate mixing of colors offended her eyes.
“I really am relieved to hear that you will not be resident here, Miss Stewart, as I need your room for two boarders. I had planned to enlarge the dormitory this year, but everything costs so much that I postponed it. Now this extra room will come in very nicely for me,” Mrs. Wellington was saying when Polly and Eleanor had finished a survey of the room, and rejoined Anne.
“Girls, Mrs. Wellington says we may have a look at the class-rooms. Would you like to go with me?” said Anne.
Without demur they followed the lady of the house. They passed through the formal parlor where guests of distinction were entertained. Here the two girls also saw the lack of taste in furnishing. Gilded furniture with delicate satin upholstery, fought with wallpaper of heavy Spanish-leather design. Curtains and portières were of velour, heavily edged with fringe. Valances of velour were over the windows, and on the mantel. Instead of having a delicate French carpet on the floor, there were thick napped dark-toned Beloochistan rugs.
The long library opened out from the parlor, and here there was an atmosphere of rest, because the entire wall spaces were lined with dark cabinets whose shelves were well filled with volumes in bindings made to harmonize with the rich paper that showed above the book-cases. The window-seats were built in and upholstered in tapestry to match the paper. The tables and leather armchairs were not so glaringly out of keeping with the room as the furniture in the first two rooms had been.
Mrs. Wellington waved her hand carelessly at this room: “When I bought this house, all the books went with it, just as you see them now. The window-seats are still covered as they were, but I hope soon to spend some money in making this library more cheerful for the girls. I like bright colors, but that dun wall paper and that dull tapestry on the window cushions gives me the blues. If the books had not been such a bargain – the executor of the estate was most anxious to dispose of them – I never would have taken them. Their dull green morocco bindings make the room seem heavy, don’t you think?”
“Oh, no! I was just thinking how lovely the glint of the gold lettering on each dark book makes the room seem. If only there was a dark polished floor to reflect the chair and table legs, the room would be wonderful! But this large carpet spoils that effect!” Nolla exclaimed impetuously.
Mrs. Wellington straightened her spine and looked in hurt amazement at this inexperienced miss who babbled like an expert decorator. No one had ever criticised that carpet rug before!
Anne saw the look and comprehended at once, so she dropped oil on the troubled waters. “Oh, Nolla! you are so carried away with your hobby of studying decorating that you needs must practise it and criticise everywhere. Now, I’m sure, Mrs. Wellington never would have dreamed of your ambition had you not showed it so plainly in your words just now.”
Eleanor understood Anne’s motive in speaking thus, and smiled benignly. Polly was still trying to grasp the handle to Anne’s remark when the lady of the house led them forth again.
“Here are a number of smaller rooms where girls may sit and read or study in the evening. And now we will go up to the class rooms.”
If Eleanor and Polly had been able to find flaws with the lack of taste shown in the furnishings of the first-floor, they could not detect the slightest item missing in the equipment and furnishing of the different school rooms. Every known modern device and object for the comfort, health and help of scholars, were in evidence. Anne smiled with pleasure as she looked around.
“It will be a delight to teach in such a room as this, Mrs. Wellington; and I’m sure the scholars appreciate all you do for them.”
“No, that is the strange part of it, Miss Stewart. The girls who come here seldom think of all I do for them in providing these rooms. They take it as a matter of course that I should spend so much money in keeping everything as I do, while my competitors ask higher rates and spend less;” the lady looked troubled over it.
“Now I have a friend down on Seventy-second street, who has conducted a most exclusive school for years; but she will not spend a cent in these ideal accommodations yet she gets higher prices than I do. And her waiting list of well-known names is endless. I only have a list of about a dozen applicants and they are not daughters of millionaires, either.”
“Perhaps,” Anne remarked kindly, “the girls you graduate make something of themselves in life, whereas those other society girls merely skim over lessons and never know how to spell their own names.”
“Yes, that is true; I secure the very best teachers and try to instill knowledge wisely. And I am sure, my girls, upon leaving here, can compete with anyone.”
“I should say that was a great comfort. To look back some day and be able to say: ‘I taught that girl how to combat ignorance.’ And the girls who sincerely admit what you have done, will rise up and call you blessed – for giving them these expensive modern helps to acquire wisdom.”
Madam seemed pleased with this point of view, and said: “You will stop and have luncheon with me, won’t you, dears?”
“We really cannot, Mrs. Wellington. You see we have to furnish the home that we just leased, yesterday. We are most anxious to have everything in order before starting with our school work on the first,” Anne explained, politely.
“Oh, of course, that is wise. Then I will look for you Monday morning – the first of October. If there is anything you wish to know, you can call me up any time during the mornings. And if you are in this neighborhood before the first, do come in and have tea.”
After the girls had gone, Madam smiled and thought to herself: “I certainly made no mistake in engaging that young teacher. She seems to be the best one I have ever interviewed. And the girls will take to her, I’m sure.”
Anne led the way to a Broadway trolley, and soon they were at the hotel. Mrs. Stewart was impatiently awaiting them, so they had an early luncheon and then hurried downtown to the “Art Galleries” on Fourth avenue.
The sale had just opened, and they were able to secure front chairs. A list had been made of pieces of furniture they really needed to start house-keeping with, and now they hoped to be able to find just the things they had pictured for the Studio.
A solid mahogany gate-leg table was knocked down to Anne for fourteen dollars and a half. Then a wing-chair with quaint lines, upholstered in orchid blue velour, was sold to Eleanor for nineteen dollars.
“Dear me, that was a lovely chair, Nolla. I wish I had one like it,” sighed Polly.
“Isn’t my table a dear!” whispered Anne, eagerly.
“But it has as many legs as a centipede,” replied Polly.
The others laughed gaily at her criticism but at that moment, a comfortable Turkish arm-chair was placed upon the dais. It was upholstered in a rich tapestry, and looked oh! so luxurious.
Polly watched the bidders anxiously. She had a sudden desire for that chair, but she couldn’t manage to get in at the bidding, at all. But when she saw a woman opposite, hold up a hand above her head, and so learned that that was one way to catch the auctioneer’s attention, she, too, followed suit.
She instantly held up her hand, and just saved the chair from being sold to a man at the back. So it was knocked down to her at seventeen-fifty.
“There! That is Mrs. Stewart’s chair. I saw the look in her eye when it was placed upon the dais; and I know just how she will enjoy it when she has done preparing our dinners. That chair, out before the open fire-place giving rest to a tired house-keeper, will make one feel like new!” Polly said.
“But, Polly, child! you must not spend your money buying me such things!” exclaimed Mrs. Stewart.
“I will if I want to! This is the first stick you’ve got for your room. And without you, I’d like to know what kind of a home we’d have. So don’t you say another word if I want to buy other things for you.”
Anne objected. “Maybe this one chair is all right, Polly, but no more, please.”
“Anne, just see all the money we’re saving on buying our furniture, this way. Why can’t I use the surplus as I want to? I say I will– if I see anything I want very much to give you or your mother.”
Anne knew when Polly was determined to have her way, and believed the best plan now would be to buy what was needed for herself and her mother, so as to forestall Polly or Eleanor.
So that afternoon Anne got two single brass beds with brand new springs and mattresses. The auctioneer explained that the bedding was sent in by the Manhattan Factory, because of an order that had been cancelled before delivery of goods. So Anne secured the bedding at half price.
Neither of the girls suspected Anne of any secret plot when she bought other articles at that sale for the two bedrooms she needed to furnish; but when Eleanor eagerly bid on a Priscilla work-table of mahogany and got it for Mrs. Stewart, Anne felt annoyed.
“My goodness, Anne, it was only five-fifty. Who ever saw a work-table as cheap as that, before? I know your mother will love to darn stockings for us all, now – with a nice place in which to keep her wools,” argued Eleanor, laughingly.
“Maybe mother would rather not darn stockings but let you keep the table, yourself,” suggested Anne.
Before they left the Art Gallery that day, they found they had really bought enough articles to start in with if they liked. They could add rugs, bric-a-brac, and different luxurious chairs, at any time.
“But we need dishes and utensils, girls,” said Mrs. Stewart.
“We’ll get them in a department store, and have them delivered at once,” replied Anne.
“Let’s run over and see if the painters have done anything,” suggested Polly.
“Might as well, Anne – we are right here, you see,” added Eleanor.
So they turned the corner and walked down the street to reach the Studio in time to see the painters finish the work on the ground floor.
“How nice and fresh it looks. But the wallpaper looks dusty,” said Mrs. Stewart.
“It is dusty, madam. I was just sayin’ to my friend here you ought to have someone clean it all off with bread crumbs. It is a swell paper if it is clean,” remarked the painter.
“Bread-crumbs?” ejaculated Anne.
“Yes’m. Best thing known to clean fine paper. I’ll get a man to do it if you say so. He knows his job.”
“I wish you would. And ask him to supply the bread, too, as we are stopping at a hotel where it is hard to get such things.”
“An’ I was goin’ to mention – the porcelain tubs and basins oughta be cleaned fer you’se. When we finish painting I will scour and polish ’em, if you say so.”
“Yes, please do! And the floors ought to be polished, too.”
“We’ll take care of all that, if you just tell us to go ahead and clean up as we see fit,” said the painter.
“All right; but don’t make us wait too long before we can move in. We are going to have a house-warming, here, next week,” explained Eleanor, anxiously.
“I’ve got an extra man comin’ on to-morrow, and we’ll be out of here by Saturday. Especially if we work Sat’aday afternoon – but that means double pay, you know.”
“Never mind that; finish the job as soon as possible, for we will save that much extra money in hotel bills,” said Anne.
“All right! We’ll turn it over for you Sat’aday night!”
Everything seemed to be going so well, not only with their Studio-home, but with furnishings and decorators, that the girls felt elated.
The next day they again met Mr. Fabian at the Art Galleries, and he proved a very welcome member to their party, as he knew all about rugs, porcelains, and antiques. Having shown them and explained all about the few rare pieces still for sale in the auction rooms, he said:
“Some day you must go with me to some of the other places. There are dozens of these shops in New York, and each one seems to incline to some particular line of furnishing. Then, too, one can see more wonderful antiques in these shabby little shops along the avenue, than one would believe possible.
“I often pick up rare things in these places. They are run, mostly, by Hebrews who merely know when an object is antique, or in demand. But they seldom can tell you the period or name of many of their most valuable items. It was in this way that a friend of mine once discovered a treasure.
“His wife wanted a necklace for Christmas – something odd and different than any that her friends had. So he came to me and said: ‘Fabian, I can’t afford Tiffany prices, but I wish I could find something unusual. I want to please my wife, because she has been such a good sport during the time I was hanging over the edge of bankruptcy. Now what would you suggest?’
“I offered to go with him. So we sauntered out of the Studio and walked over here, to Fourth avenue. We stopped in every little collector’s shop along the street, but could not find just what appealed to him. Then we entered that shop across the street – the one near the corner.