CHAPTER XI
A CHANCE ACQUAINTANCE
All of the Maynards were sorry when the time came to leave GrandmaSherwood's. But they had still three weeks of their trip before them, andmany places yet to be visited. Kitty was almost tempted to stay, sinceshe was coming back in June anyway, and she wasn't quite so fond oftravelling about as King and Midget were. But they would not hear ofthis, and persuaded Kitty to go on the trip, and return to GrandmaSherwood's later.
So on a fair, sunshiny May morning, the big car started once more on itstravels, with half a dozen Maynards packed in it. They were wavinggood-byes, and calling back messages of farewell, and the car rolledaway, leaving Grandma and Uncle Steve watching them out of sight.
Their next destination was New York City, where they were to make a shortvisit at Grandma Maynard's.
"Isn't it funny," Marjorie said, voicing the sentiment of many oldertravellers, "that when you leave one place you sort of forget it,--andyour thoughts fly ahead to the next place you're going."
"It's so long since I've been at Grandma Maynard's," said Kitty, "and Iwas so little when I was there, that I hardly remember it at all."
"It isn't half as much fun as Grandma Sherwood's," declared King, andthen Marjorie, afraid lest her father should feel hurt, added quickly,"But it's very nice indeed, and Grandma and Grandpa Maynard are lovely.The only reason we have more fun at Grandma Sherwood's is because wedon't have to be quite so careful of our manners and customs."
"Well, it won't hurt you, Midget," said her mother, "to have a littleexperience in that line; and I do hope, children, you will behaveyourselves, and not go to cutting up any of your mischief or jinks."
"Kit will be our star exhibit," said King, "she'll have to do the mannersfor the family."
"I'll do my share," said Kitty, taking him literally, "but unless you twobehave, I can't do it all. If you go to pulling hair-ribbons and necktiesoff each other, Grandma Maynard will think you're Hottentots!"
"I will be good, dear Mother," said King, with such an angelic expressionon his face that Mrs. Maynard felt sure he was in a specially roguishmood; and though she thought her children were the dearest in the world,yet she knew they had a propensity for getting into mischief just whenshe wanted them to act most decorously.
But she said no more, for very often special admonitions resulted inspecial misbehavior.
They were spinning along a lovely country road, which ran across thatportion of New Jersey, and the children found much to interest them inthe scenes they passed. Mr. Maynard liked to travel rather slowly, and asit neared noon they stopped at a hotel for luncheon. Here they stayedfor some time, and the children were delighted to find that there wereseveral other children living at the hotel, and they soon becameacquainted.
One girl, about Marjorie's age, named Ethel Sinclair, seemed anespecially nice child, and Mrs. Maynard was glad to have Marjorie playwith her.
She was sitting on the veranda embroidering, and this interestedMarjorie, for all the girls she knew of her own age liked to run and playbetter than to sit and sew.
But when Ethel showed them her work, Kitty and Marjorie, and even King,took an interest in looking at it. It was a large piece of white linen,about a yard square, neatly hemstitched, and all over it were names ofpeople.
Ethel explained that she asked any one whom she chose to write anautograph on the cloth in pencil, and then afterward she worked them verycarefully with red cotton, taking very small stitches that the namesmight be clear and legible.
"But what's it for?" asked King, with a boy's ignorance of such matters.
"It's a teacloth," said Ethel, "to cover a tea table, you know."
"But you don't have afternoon tea, do you?" asked Marjorie, for Ethel,like herself, was only twelve.
"No, but I'm going to use it for a tablecover in my bedroom, and perhapswhen I grow older I can use it for a teacloth."
Ethel was a prim-mannered child, and had apparently been brought up in aconventional manner, but Marjorie liked her, and stayed talking with her,while King and Kitty went off to explore the gardens.
"I wish I could make one," went on Marjorie to Ethel, "where did you getthe linen?"
"There's a little shop just down the road, and they have the squaresalready hemstitched. It would be nice for you to make one, for you couldget so many names as you go on your trip."
"So I could; I'm going to ask mother if I may buy one. Will you go withme, Ethel?"
Ethel went gladly, and when the girls showed the teacloth to Mrs.Maynard, she approved of the whole plan, for she wanted Marjorie tobecome more fond of her needle, and this work would be an incentive todo so.
So she gave Marjorie the money for the purchase, and the two girlstrotted away to the little shop which was not far from the hotel.
Marjorie found a square just like Ethel's, and bought it with a decidedlygrownup feeling.
"I don't like to sew much," she confessed to Ethel, as they walked back."I've tried it a little, but I'd rather read or play."
"But this isn't like regular sewing, and it's such fun to see the namesgrow right under your eyes. They're so much prettier after they'reworked in red than when they're just written in pencil."
"Wouldn't they be prettier still worked in white?" asked Marjorie.
"No; I saw one that way once, and the names don't show at all,--you canhardly read them. Red is the best, and it doesn't fade when it's washed."
Marjorie had bought red cotton at the shop, and she showed her purchasesto her mother with great delight.
"They're fine," said Mrs. Maynard, approvingly. "Now why don't you askEthel to write her name, and then you can always remember that hers wasthe first one on the cloth."
"Oh, that will be lovely!" cried Marjorie. "Will you, Ethel?"
"Yes, indeed," and getting a pencil, Ethel wrote her name in a large,plain, childish hand.
"You must always ask people to write rather large," she advised, "becauseit's awfully hard to work the letters if they're too small."
Then Ethel lent Marjorie her needle and thimble so that she might do afew stitches by way of practice.
But it was not so easy for Marjorie as for Ethel, and her stitches didnot look nearly so nice and neat. However, Mrs. Maynard said that shefelt sure Marjorie's work would improve after she had done more of it,and she thanked Ethel for her assistance in the matter.
Then Ethel's mother appeared, and the two ladies were made acquainted,and then it was luncheon time, and the Maynards all went to thedining-room.
"I think the most fun of the whole trip is eating in restaurants," saidKitty. "I just love to look around, and see different tables anddifferent people at them."
"It is fun," agreed King; "but I wouldn't want to live in a hotel all thetime. I think it's more fun to be at home."
"So do I," said Marjorie. "Somehow, in a hotel, you feel sort of stiffand queer, and you never do at home."
"You needn't feel stiff and queer, Marjorie," said her father; "butof course there is a certain conventional restraint about a publicdining-room that isn't necessary at home. I want you children to becomeaccustomed to restaurants, and learn how to act polite and reserved,without being what Marjorie calls stiff and queer."
"Don't we act right, Father?" inquired Kitty, anxiously.
"Yes, you do very nicely, indeed. Your table manners are all right, andthe less you think about the subject the better. This trip will give youa certain amount of experience, and anyway you have all your life tolearn in. But I will ask you, children, to be on your good behavior atGrandma Maynard's. She is more difficult to please than Grandma Sherwood,but I want her to think my children are the best and the best-behaved inthe whole world."
"How long shall we stay there, Father?" asked Marjorie.
"About three days. I'm sure you can exist that long without falling inthe water or cutting up any pranks in the house."
"Is there any water to fall in?" asked King.
"No, there isn't. I used that as a f
igure of speech. But I'm sure if youtry to be quiet and well-behaved children you can easily succeed."
"I'm sure we can," said Marjorie, heartily, and deep in her heart sheregistered a vow that she would succeed this time.
After luncheon was over, Pompton brought the car around, and they startedoff again. Marjorie bade Ethel good-bye with a feeling of regret that shedid not live nearer, so she might have her for a friend. But she had herautograph as a souvenir, and she intended to work her tablecloth veryneatly, so it would look as good as Ethel's.
The afternoon ride was not a long one, and before four o'clock they camein sight of the tall towers of the New York buildings.
The children had never approached the city in a motor car before, andwere enthusiastic over the view of it. Mr. Maynard pointed out thedifferent business buildings, some of which they already recognized. Theyhad to cross a downtown ferry, and soon they were speeding north throughthe streets of crowded traffic.
As they neared Grandma Maynard's house in Fifth Avenue, Mrs. Maynardlooked over her brood carefully to see if they were in proper order forpresentation.
Except for slight evidences of travel, they all looked neat and tidy, andthe girls' pretty motor garb was becoming and correct. Rosy Posy asusual, looked the pink of perfection, for the child had a knack ofkeeping herself dainty and fresh even in difficult circumstances.
Satisfied with her inspection, Mrs. Maynard gave them final injunctionsto behave correctly, and then they reached the house.
The children had been there before, but they did not go often, and forthe last two years the elder Maynards had been travelling abroad. So theyfelt almost like strangers as they entered the lofty and dimly lightedhall, to which they were admitted by an imposing-looking footman inlivery.
Ushered into the reception room, the visitors found themselves in thepresence of their host and hostess.
Grandma and Grandpa Maynard were most worthy and estimable people; butthey were not very young, and they had lived all their lives in anatmosphere of convention and formality. They did not realize that thiswas different from the mode of living preferred by their son's family,and indeed they were so accustomed to their own ways that it neveroccurred to them that there were any others.
Mr. and Mrs. Maynard appreciated and understood all this, and acceptedthe situation as it stood.
But the children, impressed by the admonitions of their parents, andoppressed by the severe and rigid effects of the house, turned into quietlittle puppets, quite different from their usual merry selves.
Although the elder Maynards' greetings were formal, Mr. and Mrs. Maynard,Jr., were cordial in their manner. Mr. Maynard shook his father heartilyby the hand, and kissed his mother tenderly, and Mrs. Maynard did thesame.
Marjorie endeavored to do exactly as her parents did, but as she began tochatter to her grandfather, Grandma Maynard told her that children shouldbe seen and not heard, and bade her sit down on a sofa. The old lady hadno intention of hurting Marjorie's feelings, but she meant exactly whatshe said, and it irritated her to hear a child chatter.
"And now," said Grandma Maynard, after the greetings were all over, "youwould like to go to your rooms, I'm sure, and make ready for tea."
Decorously the children filed upstairs and were put in charge of maidswho assisted them with their toilets.
Marjorie and Kitty were in the same room, but owing to the maids'presence, they could make no comments.
As the trunks had been sent ahead, they had fresh frocks in plenty, andsoon, attired in stiff white kilted pique, they went downstairs again.
Grandma Maynard nodded approval, and told them to sit down on the divan.
"Of course, you little girls don't drink tea," she said, as she seatedherself behind the elaborately appointed tea-tray which the butler hadbrought in. "So I have milk for you."
This was entirely satisfactory, and as there were plenty of lovely littlecakes and dainty sandwiches, the children felt there was no fault to befound with Grandma's hospitality, even though they were not allowed totalk.
King adapted himself rather more easily than the girls to this order ofthings, and he sat quietly in his chair, speaking only when he was spokento; and though Marjorie knew he was fairly aching to shout and racearound, yet he looked so demure that he almost made her laugh.
Not that she did! No, indeed, she knew better than that; but though shetried very hard to appear at her ease, her nature was so sensitive tomental atmosphere, that her cakes almost choked her.
Rosy Posy was perfectly at ease. The midget sat quietly, and acceptedwith benign grace the milk and crackers fed to her by one of the maids.
But at last the tea hour was over and the Maynards discovered that virtueis sometimes rewarded.
"You are most pleasant and amiable children," said Grandma Maynard,looking judicially at the quartet, "and you certainly have very goodmanners. I'm glad to see, Ed, that you have brought them up to be quietand sedate. I detest noisy children."
"Yes, you are sensible, and not annoying to have around," agreed GrandpaMaynard, and the three older children smiled respectfully at thecompliment, but offered no reply.
"And now," went on Grandpa Maynard, "I think that you should be amusedfor an hour. They don't sit up to dinner, of course, my dear?" he added,turning to his wife.
"Yes, we do!" was on the tip of Marjorie's tongue, but she checked thespeech just in time, and said nothing.
"No, of course not," replied Grandma Maynard; "our dinner hour is eight,and that is too late for children. Besides, I have invited some guests tomeet Ed and Helen. So the children will have supper in the smallbreakfast-room at half-past six, and meantime, as you say, we must givethem some amusement."
King greatly wondered what these grandparents' idea of amusement wouldbe, but Marjorie and Kitty had so little hope that it would be anythingvery enjoyable that they took little interest in it.
However, when it proved that the amusement was to be a ride in the park,it sounded rather attractive.
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