“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