by Nell Speed
CHAPTER XI.
A STUDIO TEA IN THE LATIN QUARTER.
"The only thing that worries me in this delightful arrangement ofco-operative housekeeping is the accounts," sighed Mrs. Brown atbreakfast the next morning. "I am such a poor hand at arithmetic and afranc is so like a quarter that it is hard for me to remember it is onlytwenty cents; and a sou is so huge and heavy, I feel that it must bemore than a cent. I pin my faith to a five franc piece which is like andis a dollar. I'd turn the money part over to Molly if she were not evenworse than I am about it."
"Don't give it to me, please," begged Molly. "You know dear old NanceOldham used to say I could do without money but I could not keep it."
"Well, Mrs. Brown, you should not be bothered to death about it, and Ithink we should elect a secretary and treasurer; and since there is noone here fitted to fill the place, I propose a new member to our club."Judy got up and reached from a high plate rack a funny, glazed Toby jug.
"I propose the name of Sir Toby Belch as a member of this club."
"I second the nomination and wish to offer an amendment to the motion,"said Elise: "that the said Sir Toby be made secretary and treasurer ofthis association. All in favor of this amendment say 'Aye,' contrary'No.' The ayes have it. Now are we ready to vote on the motion?"
The result was that Sir Toby Belch was unanimously elected and Mrs.Brown's duties were lightened. The plan was that every week the fourmembers of the Co-operative Housekeepers' Association should put intoSir Toby a certain amount of money which would be drawn out for expensesas the occasion arose. If Sir Toby should get hungry and empty beforethe week was up, an assessment was to be made on all of the members andhe was to be fed, even if it did happen to be between meals for him. Ifany member should be out of funds at the time, she could give an I. O.T. (I Owe Toby) which could be cashed when convenient.
"Dear lady, you shall not be worried," said Elise affectionately. "Ibelieve this arrangement with Sir Toby will work beautifully."
And so it did. Sometimes Toby would get very lean and hungry and the fewstray sous left in him would clink dismally against his ribs; and againhe would be bursting with silver, paper and copper. Sometimes he wouldhave to suspend payment until he could negotiate his I. O. T.'s., andsometimes when the week was up and all outstanding bills settled, hewould be so affluent that he would treat the whole crowd to the theateror give a party to the friends in the Latin Quarter. Many a jest wasmade at his expense and sometimes Mrs. Brown and Judy, both of them ableto quote Shakespeare at any point, would give whole pages of "TwelfthNight," impersonating the immortal Sir Toby and Sir Andrew Ague-cheekand the naughty Maria.
Our friends went to many studio teas during their stay in Paris, but thefirst one with their erratic neighbor, Miss Jo Bill, they never forgot.Her studio was the size of their own but had no apartment attached. Thehostess slept in a balcony, similar to the one Judy and Molly occupied,and her housekeeping and sleeping arrangements were much in evidence.Molly, going over ahead of the others to take the three tea cupsrequested, found Miss Williams washing her own five cups with theirvaried assortment of saucers and clearing off a table littered withpapers and magazines, preparatory to placing the alcohol lamp, kettleand teapot thereon.
"Do let me help you," begged Molly. "Where is your tea towel? I can wipethe cups."
"Tea towel!" exclaimed Miss Williams. "Why, I don't possess such athing! If the water is good and hot and clean, you don't need a towel.Just let the dishes drain. It is much more sanitary. Towels are awfulgerm harborers. But if you want to help, you might straighten up thistable. Don't ask for a cloth or you will embarrass me."
Molly accordingly went to work and got order out of chaos in a shortwhile. She piled the papers and magazines neatly on a shelf; emptied theteapot of its former drawing of leaves; washed and rinsed it; filled thekettle with fresh water; and replenished the alcohol lamp from a bottleof wood alcohol she found on the shelf.
"Well, if you aren't a peach, Miss Brown!" said the admiring Jo Bill. "Ibet you are dying to go up on my roost and clear it out some. I wasgoing to let it alone hoping to make it so interesting _en bas_ that noone would glance up; but if you feel a calling to go up there and stiraround a little, you are welcome."
Molly was itching to get her hands on the balcony, which reminded her ofMrs. Jellyby's closet, full to overflowing with every conceivable andinconceivable thing. The floor was strewn with coats, dresses and hatswhile the shoes were neatly hung on a row of hooks. Very pretty,well-shaped shoes they were, too, as it seemed Jo's feet were her onevanity.
"I never make up my bed, but just kick the covers over the dash boardand let it air all day. Much more sanitary than tucking the germs in,giving them chance to multiply. You can make it up if you want to,though, since we are by the way of giving a party. Yes, hang up thedresses if you think it will improve the looks of things. I keep myshoes on the hooks so they can dry well and not be losing themselves allthe time. I don't often need the dresses as I usually wear thesepainting togs. By Jove, speaking of dresses, I fancy I ought to put onone this afternoon! I wonder if your mother would think I was notshowing her proper respect if I just put on a clean blouse and didn'ttry to get into one of those pesky dresses."
"Oh, don't dress up for mother, please! She would feel bad if shethought her coming would make any trouble for you, and besides, youhardly have time to do much; it is after five now," laughed Molly.
So Jo pulled off her workman's blouse and donned a clean one.
"Please tell me what makes you wipe your paint brushes on your back andhow you manage it," asked Molly.
"What a question!" roared the amused Jo. "I wipe the brushes on thefront of my blouses until it gets too gummy, and then I turn it hindpart before. You and your mother must have thought I was somecontortionist yesterday," and she extracted a hair brush from one of theshoes hanging on a hook and gave her tousled hair a vigorous punishment.
"Shall I put this tub out of sight?" asked Molly, picking up a greatEnglish hat tub.
"No, indeed, leave it there. I always put it where Polly Perkins can seeit to shame him. You see he is as tidy as I am careless, but he leads anunhealthy, uncleanly life in spite of all of his pernickity ways, and Iam really very sanitary and healthy in spite of all of my untidiness. Inthe first place, I take a cold bath every morning of my life and sleepin a hurricane of fresh air; and if my bed is in a mess, you notice mysheets are clean; while Polly is one of these once-a-weekers as tobaths, and he is afraid of opening windows and letting in dust, and hemakes up his bed the minute he gets out of it, animal heat, germs andall."
Molly was vastly amused and interested in her neighbor and her evidentrivalry with the long-haired cubist, whom she now saw daintily pickinghis way across the court, in velveteen jacket and Byronic collar withthe loose flowing tie common in the Latin Quarter. In his hand he held astiff bouquet of red and yellow chrysanthemums, which, bowing low, hepresented to Jo as she jerked the door open at his knock.
"The flower which you most resemble, I bring as an offering of----"
"Stuff and nonsense! That's a nice thing to tell a girl: that she lookslike a ragged chrysanthemum! I have brushed my hair, too, so your'comparison is odious.' I have a great mind not to introduce you to MissBrown just to pay you back for being so saucy."
But Mr. Perkins did not wait for the formal introduction. He came intothe studio, his pasty face beaming, and gave Molly's hand a cordialshake. Then the others began to arrive: Mrs. Brown, Judy and Elise, Mr.Kinsella and Pierce.
"Polly, put the kettle on and we'll all have tea," sang Jo, and theobedient Mr. Perkins did her bidding. In a short while the water wasboiling and the tea put to draw, and Jo produced from her cupboard aplate of Napoleons (that delicious pastry of Paris) and a _brioche_.
"Now, Jo Bill, that is mean to go have my kind of cake, too," exclaimedPolly Perkins fretfully. "You know I never have Napoleons at my teasbecause you call them yours, but _brioche_ has always been mine; andwhen I have our neighbors in
to my studio, what can I give them? I didnot know you could be so sneaky."
Strange to tell, Jo took the repulse quite meekly and confessed that itwas low, but there were not enough Napoleons at the _patisserie_ and shehad to fill out with something else.
"Please don't be cross, Polly. I got _brioche_ because I know you likeit so much. I like macaroons myself," and she helped the indignantcubist to a generous slice of his favorite cake and he was mollified.
The party was very gay. Jo proved to be a singularly tactful hostess andput them at their ease immediately. The tea was perfect.
"Where on earth do you get it?" asked Mrs. Brown as she accepted asecond cup.
"Smuggle it," responded Jo. "Every time I go to California I bringenough back to run me for a year; enough for Polly, too. The customhouse officials never hunt through my luggage for tea. They often remarkthat I am 'not the tea drinking type', but Polly, here, can't bring in aleaf of it without getting found out. He is a regular tea drinkingtype."
"Are you from California, too?" asked Molly, smiling at Polly andwondering if Jo's frankness hurt his feelings. But if it did heconcealed his wounds remarkably well.
"Yes, indeed, Jo and I are from the same town. I have known her eversince she was a little boy. She is an awful clever sort and as kind andgood as can be. I never mind her blague. We are the best friends in theworld and she likes me as much as I do her. Have you seen her painting?She does the best and highest paid miniature work among the Americanartists in Paris. She has a very interesting way of working: paintseverything big first and then in miniature. She says it keeps her fromgetting a sissy manner."
"I can't fancy Miss Williams with a sissy manner in anything," laughedElise, who joined Molly and Mr. Perkins. "I want to see her things somuch; and I do hope you will show us some of your work, Mr. Perkins. Ihear you are of the new movement in art."
"Yes," said poor Polly sadly. "Jo hates me for it and refuses to think Iam sincere or that there is any good in the movement, but I declare thatshe is the insincere one in not trying to see the good in the cubistmovement. Jo is very hard-headed and conventional at heart, in spite ofher pants."
The girls burst out laughing at this. The idea of Jo's beingconventional was certainly absurd. Hard-headed she no doubt was.
"This will show you how stubborn she is: she pretends she does notremember my name. I don't mind her calling me Polly, but I do think sheshould address my letters to Mr. Peter Perkins and not Polly. I haveknown her ever since we were both of us babies and she must rememberwhat my parents call me, even though she never did call me Peterherself," said the poor cubist who looked ready to weep.
Just then there was a diversion caused by a great knocking on a door inthe court. It proved to be none other than Mrs. Pace.
"She has come to spy out the nakedness of the land," whispered Judy toMr. Kinsella, who had been having a long talk with her. Pierce had hadso much to say of this delightful young lady that his uncle wasdetermined to make her acquaintance and find out if she were the kind ofgirl to be a help to his beloved nephew, or if there could be a chanceof Judy's being the type that he had unfortunately come in contact within his youth, causing so much disaster to his happiness. Judy was in hergayest mood and was enjoying herself hugely, and Mr. Kinsella seemed tofind her quite as delightful as Pierce had led him to believe her to be.That young man was looking rather disconsolate since his uncle wasoccupying the place he coveted. He wandered over to where Elise wasexamining some of Jo's miniatures. Elise, too, was a little wistful. Shehad looked forward with so much eagerness to meeting Mr. Kinsella again,and now on the first occasion when they might have had a realconversation, here he was spending the whole time laughing and talkingwith Julia Kean. She was glad of the diversion of Mrs. Pace's entrance,as it necessarily caused some cessation of what looked to her like aflirtation between Mr. Kinsella and Judy.
Enter, Mrs. Pace did, with a scornful sniff. After rapping sharply onthe Browns' door and receiving no answer, she had made her way to thestudio where the tea was being held. When Jo Bill opened the door,without waiting to tell her whom she was seeking, she swept into theroom, "not like a ship in full sail," declared Judy to her companion,"but like a great coal barge in her shiny black satin and her huge jetbonnet."
Mrs. Brown introduced her to the members of the party with whom she wasnot already acquainted, but she acknowledged the honor only with aslight quiver of the stiff jet trimmings of her headgear.
"Well, Mrs. Brown! Is this what you left my house for?"
Mrs. Brown made no answer but Molly noticed that her nose was what AuntMary called "a-wucken'"; and she was wondering what would be the outcomeof Mrs. Pace's rudeness, when Polly Perkins saved the day. He was takingtea to the uninvited guests at Jo's bidding. That young woman wastotally oblivious and indifferent to Mrs. Pace's scornful attitude. Shewas Mrs. Brown's friend and she, Jo Bill, knew how to behave in her ownhouse. Mrs. Pace was seated so that the last rays of the setting sunslanted through the window on her bonnet and the lighted lamp on theother hand shone full on her capacious chest, making the large squarehigh lights of which Judy had made such merry jests. Polly handed herthe cup of tea and slice of _brioche_ and then backed away from her,standing with his eyes half closed and his hands clasped in adoration.
"Well, young man, what are you looking at me that way for?" snapped theirate Henny.
"Oh, Madame, you are so beautiful! You must pardon my raptures, but I ama cubist and you are exactly the type I am looking for to make myselffamous withal. As I stand and gaze at you with my eyes half-closed, youpresent the most wonderful spectacle. I see a series of beautiful cubes,one on top of the other: black and gray, black and gray, and now andthen where the light strikes, a brilliant white one. And oh, your_chapeau_! I can hardly wait to get to work on your portrait! You willsit to me, won't you?"
During this effusion, Mrs. Pace sat with a pleased smirk on her face. Ithad been many a long day since any one had called her beautiful, and noone had ever called her beautiful with such enthusiasm or wanted topaint her portrait. To be sure it was nothing but a small, pasty-faced,long-haired artist, but he was a man for all that, and his eyes werekind and earnest and his voice most appealing.
"I am a very busy woman," she answered gently, "but I will pose for youwith pleasure, if it will help you in any way."
Her shiny ornaments trembled with emotion and she gave a sentimentalsigh that broke the beautiful square high-light, so admired by Polly,into a dozen little ripples.
Mrs. Brown arose to make her adieux, taking Mrs. Pace with her to showthe new quarters to the much softened lady. Mrs. Brown knew by the lookin Judy's eyes that she would explode with laughter in a moment. Mollyand Elise were bending over Jo's miniatures, their shoulders shaking.Pierce was standing in the middle of the floor with an alert expressionas though he were in readiness to seize the lunatic, poor Polly, if heshould become dangerous. Mr. Kinsella's composure was ominous of anoutbreak. Jo Bill stood with arms akimbo and gazed at her formerplaymate, anger gradually gaining the ascendency over the amusementcaused by his outspoken admiration of the ponderous and impolite Mrs.Pace.
As the door closed on the two ladies, Jo suddenly reached out, andgrabbing Polly by his flowing tie, she boxed his ears soundly. "There,you goose, I've been wanting to do that for years!"
Polly received the chastisement with the utmost delight and actuallyseemed to look upon it as a form of caress from the enraged Jo. Hewhispered to Molly: "I believe Jo is jealous of the beautiful Mrs.Pace."
Mr. Kinsella asked Elise to take a walk with him that evening beforedinner and they had the long talk that the girl had been eager for; andthe little cloud of--not exactly jealousy, more envy of Judy's powers ofattraction than jealousy, was dispelled for the time being.
