“Well, your grotto is full of unused atmosphere. Let’s turn it out and get some fresh.” And swish! up went the shades, and bang! up went the windows, and in came the air and sunlight; and after eight girls had flung down their hats and wraps and bags and bundles the place began to look quite homelike.
“Here are the trunks and bicycles,” cried Helen, as a wagon stopped before the cottage.
“Oh, dear,” said Marjorie, “we haven’t chosen our rooms yet! Two will have to sleep downstairs. Who wants to?”
“I will,” said Betty. “I’m not afraid; are you, Jessie?”
“No, indeed!” And the Invincibles immediately appropriated the pretty bedroom that opened off the parlor.
Haven’t I told you about these two girls yet? Well, Betty was fifteen, a very tall girl, with that kind of tallness that is called overgrown. She was fond of all outdoor sports, and strong, athletic, and muscular, she strode through life regardless of conventions, but making friends as she went. Jessie was of directly opposite type in most ways. A chubby little maiden with a happy-go-lucky disposition, she had a positive genius for getting her own way. Always amiable and acquiescent, and very generous, she yet managed never to do anything she didn’t wish to do. She was a frivolous little creature, devoted to finery and dress, but so winning and affectionate that it was really impossible to interfere with her wishes. And so Betty’s determination and Jessie’s persistency had won them the name of the Invincibles, and whatever they agreed on always came to pass. But as they rarely agreed on anything this was not so disastrous as it might have been.
The social economy of the eight was very clearly defined. The Octave, as they called themselves, divided very naturally into two quartets or four duets whenever occasion required. And just now occasion did require; so, leaving Betty and Jessie, the other six flew upstairs, and Marjorie and Millicent took one room, Nan and Marguerite another, and Helen and Hester the third, so that when the trunks were sent up they were put at once where they belonged. The wheels were stacked in the hall—only five of them, for Millicent, Nan, and Marguerite didn’t ride. Then the trunks were unpacked, shelves divided fairly, hooks counted out, top bureau drawers tossed up for, and the settling process had begun.
Soon Betty’s voice was heard from below: “Don’t fiddle with your finery any longer now, girls; come on down and let’s see about supper.”
The six upstairs, feeling a responsive thrill, suspended operations at once and skipped down.
Then they all flocked out to the kitchen, and great and joyous were the exclamations of the Blue Ribbon Cooking Club when they beheld the completeness of the furnishings thereof.