by Nell Speed
CHAPTER XII
PLEASE REMIT
Of course everyone was vastly interested in Mr. Tom Smith and hisaeroplane. That young man, however, exhibited a modest demeanor whichwas very pleasant to members of his sex. He promised to take any and allof the campers flying if his machine was in good order. He thought itneeded a little tinkering, however, as he had noticed a little clickingsound above the usual clack and hum of the motor.
"How on earth did you happen to land here?" asked someone.
"Airman's instinct, I reckon. I was looking for the camp and had heardthere was a mountain with a smooth plateau around here somewhere. Aplace to land is our biggest problem. The time will come when therewill be landing stations for flyers just as they have tea houses forautomobilists now. There is great danger of becoming entangled in treesand telegraph wires. A place looks pretty good for lighting when you areup in the clouds and then when you get down you find what seemed to be asmooth, grassy plain is perhaps the top of a scrub oak forest."
After breakfast the whole camp of week-enders marched to the top of themountain to view the great bird, but the Carter girls had to stay behindto prepare for the picnic. Many sandwiches must be made and the basketspacked. Nan had her usual bowl of mayonnaise to stir. She looked verydemure in her great apron but her eyes were dancing with the remembranceof her morning's escapade.
"You look very perky this morning, honey," said Douglas, as she packed abasket of turnovers and cheese cakes with great care not to crush thosewonders of culinary art.
"You look tolerable perky yourself," retorted her sister. Just as thesophomores and seniors of a college seem to fraternize, so it is oftenthe case with the first and third members of a family. Douglas and Nanhit it off better with one another than they did with either Helen orLucy.
"I feel like flying!" declared Douglas. "I don't mean in an aeroplanebut just of my own accord. I am so happy that mother has given up thatterrible plan for me, given it up without father's knowing anythingabout it. I wish I knew who had persuaded her or how it came about. Sheis rather--well, not exactly cold with me--but not exactly chummy. Shehas not told me yet, but if you say it is so, I know it is so. I went toher room this morning so she could tell me if she wanted to, but shedidn't say a thing about it. She got a lot of letters from New York bythe early mail. I am mighty afraid they are bills."
"Pretty apt to be," sighed Nan. "I hope she won't give them to father."
"Oh, she mustn't do that. I shall have to ask her for them. I hate to doit. She thinks I am so stern."
"Let me do it," said Nan magnanimously. "I wonder how much they amountto."
"Oh, Nan! Would you mind asking for them?"
"Well, I am not crazy about it, but I'll do it," and do it she did.
She found her mother in a dainty negligee writing notes at a little deskher devoted husband had fashioned from a packing box.
"Ah, Nan, how sweet of you to come to me! I see so little of my girlsnow, they are so occupied with outside interests. Here, child, just runthese ribbons in my underwear. It really takes a great deal of time tokeep one's clothes in order. Susan should do such things for me, but sheis constantly being called off to do other things, at least she says sheis. What, I can't for the life of me see."
Nan dutifully began to do her mother's bidding, but when she saw thedrawer full of things she was supposed to decorate with ribbons she hadto call a halt.
"I am very sorry, mumsy, but I am helping Douglas pack the lunchbaskets. This is a day for a picnic, you know."
"No, I didn't know. Who is going?"
"Everyone, we hope, as that gives Oscar and Susan a chance to get athorough cleaning done, with no dinner to cook."
"Oh, how absurdly practical you girls have become! I just hate it inyou. What business has a girl of your age to know about who doesthorough cleaning and when it is done?" Nan restrained a giggle. She hadcome to a full realization of what a very frivolous person her littlemother was and while it made her sad in a way it also touched her senseof humor irresistibly.
"I am deeply disappointed in the fact that Douglas is not to come outnext winter. Mr. Parker advises me strongly against trying to launchher. He says there are so many debutantes already and that he is engagedup to every dance and that all of the dancing men are in the same fix.Of course if I should go against his advice Douglas would fall as flatas possible. She has no desire to come out as it is and no doubt woulddo nothing to further her cause. I do not feel equal to the task ofbringing her out and of putting spirit into her at the same time. Shehas been so lifeless and listless lately."
Nan smiled, thinking of how she had left Douglas actually dancing as shepacked the goodies and smiling all over her happy face.
"What a lot of letters you have, mumsy! You are almost as busy as I amwith letters. It takes me hours every day answering applications forboard."
"Oh, yes, I have many notes to answer--friends, welcoming me back toVirginia. This pile over here is nothing but bills--things bought inNew York, on my way home. I think it is most impertinent of thesetradespeople to send them so promptly. They were so eager for me toopen accounts, and now they write to me as though I were a pickpocket.'Please Remit' at the bottom of every bill, and one man actually accusesme of being slow in payment. He says he understood I was to send moneyas soon as I reached Virginia. I have no money myself. I shall just haveto hand them over to your father----"
"Oh, mother, please don't do that!"
"Why not? How else am I to get them paid?"
"But, mother, the doctor said no money matters must be brought to fatherfor at least a year and maybe not then. It was bills that made him ill,and bills would be so bad for him now."
"Bills, indeed! It was overwork! I did my best to make him relax and notwork so hard, but he would not listen to me. Many a time I tried to makehim stop and go to the opera with me or to receptions, but it was alwayswork, work, work!--day and night. I'm sure no one can accuse me ofselfishness in the matter--I did my best."
"Yes, dear, I know you did," said Nan solemnly and gently, as though shewere soothing a little child who had dropped a bowl of goldfish or donesomething equally disastrous and equally irreparable. "I tell you whatyou do, though, honey, you give me the bills. You see, I write all theletters for the camp and I will attend to them."
Mrs. Carter handed over the offensive pile of envelopes with an air ofwashing her hands of the matter.
"There is one thing, mumsy: if I were you, I'd withdraw my patronagefrom such persons. I'd never favor tradespeople like these with anotherorder."
"Never!" exclaimed the mother. "'Please Remit,' indeed! I never imaginedsuch impertinence."
Nan bore off the sheaf of bills. They were not quite so large as theyhad feared. Mrs. Carter had unwittingly managed very well since she hadaccidentally struck August sales in New York and the things she hadbought really were bargains.
"We will pay them immediately, Nan," said Douglas. "I am so thankfulthat father did not see them. It would be so hard on him that I am suremuch of the good that has come to him from the long rest would be doneaway with."
"Do they make you blue, these bills?"
"No, indeed! Nothing will make me blue now that mother has given upmaking me be a debutante. I can go on working and make more money totake the place of this we shall have to take out of the bank to pay forthese things mother bought. But just suppose she had carried her pointand forced me into society. I could have earned no money and would havehad such a lot spent on me. Why can't she see, Nan?"
"She is color blind, I think, unless it is couleur de rose. We must bepatient with her, Douglas."
"All right, grandma!" And if Mrs. Carter could have heard the peal oflaughter from Douglas, she would not have thought her lifeless andlistless. "You are such a dear little wise old lady, Nan!"
