“Not in your case,” sniffed Ruth. “He will be a ‘gloom’ all right, the way you make the money fly. See how you tipped that fellow below just now. He’s standing in a trance, looking at that dollar yet.”
“I—I didn’t have anything smaller,” confessed the culprit.
“Well, you ought to have had change.”
“My! do you want me to do as the old lady said she did when going to church? She always carried some buttons in her purse, for then, if she had run out of change, when the contribution box was passed she’d still have something to drop in.”
Ruth went off into a gale of laughter. “I wonder how that darkey would have looked if you had contributed a button to him.”
The manager here threw open a door which gave entrance upon two big rooms, with a bathroom between, the windows opening upon a balcony. To the girls it seemed a most delightful place—so high and airy—and such a view!
“Oh, this will be lovely,” Ruth assured him. “And are Mrs. Parsons’ rooms yonder?”
“Right through that door,” replied the man. “There are the buttons. Ring for any attendance you may need. If everything is not perfectly satisfactory, young ladies, let me know.”
He bowed himself out. Helen performed several stately steps about the first room. “I tell you, my dear, we are very important. Nettie’s Aunt Rachel is a dear! Or are all people down here in Dixie as polite as this person with the side whiskers?”
“Why! I think people are kind to us almost everywhere,” said Ruth, laying off her hat and coat.