Then Dorothy took the strangers up to select their rooms, and Mrs. Faulkner was as delighted at the idea of choosing from so many empty rooms, as the Dorrances had been on the night of their own arrival.
Agreeing to return the next day with their luggage, the Faulkners drove away, leaving the Dorrances in a high state of delighted excitement.
"You see," said Dorothy to her grandmother, "something has happened. I felt sure it would, though of course, I had no idea it would be the Faulkners. But thirty dollars a week will help a lot, and I'm sure we can make them have a good time. They're lovely people,—you can see that at a glance. Mrs. Faulkner is so sweet, I think I'd be willing to pay her just to sit around and smile at me."
"Instead of her paying you to let her do it," said grandma. "But it is a good plan, Dorothy; for now we can afford to keep Kathleen, and pay her fair wages, which I did not otherwise feel justified in doing."
"And Kathleen is a whole army of servants, all in one," said Dorothy. "She'll be delighted at the idea of staying with us. I'll go and tell her about it now."
"I'll go, too," cried Fairy. "I want to hear her talk."
Out to the kitchen the two girls ran and noisily burst in upon Tessie and her mother.
The two Irish women were feeling rather blue, for Mrs. Dorrance had told them that she could not afford to let them both stay with her, and she was not sure that she ought to keep even Tessie.
"Arrah thin, darlints, yez'll be afther breakin' down the dures! Why musht ye always come so shlam-bang?"
"We can't help it, Kathleen," cried Dorothy; "we're just made so, I guess. But this time we've something to tell you,—something important."