SHE STOPPED THE GIRLS AS THEY WENT OUT
But directly after luncheon she was back again. “I’m bound to find that drawer before Madeline comes, so we can crow over her,” she explained. “Besides, George Garrison Hinsdale is writing a paper for a philosophical society with a name a yard long, and he’s most dreadfully cross. So I thought that as I can’t help talking and looking frivolous, I’d better go away. Shall I bother here?”
Mary hunted for the secret drawer in the same sociable fashion in which she evidently expected Dr. Hinsdale to write a paper for his learned society. She stopped the girls as they went out, to ask if they knew anything about secret springs, and she soon had an animated, admiring group around her, eagerly examining the points of Betty’s treasure, and incidentally revealing to the astute Mary their opinions of the Tally-ho Tea-Shop and drinking in her casual references to delicious crispy brown buckwheat griddle-cakes and to the wonderful new recipe in the desk, that would certainly come to light before long.
About four o’clock, in the lull between lunch and afternoon tea, Mary detached herself self from the girls around the desk and buttonholed Betty in a secluded corner.
“I always knew I had a head for business,” she began modestly. “The reason they don’t come in to feed isn’t because they don’t like the eats, but because they’re saving up money for Christmas. Don’t you remember how we used to do that? At least,” added Mary, with a reminiscent smile, “I used to mean to save, but in the end I always sent home for an extra check.”
“I know,” agreed Betty. “But what can you do about it? It’s just one of the drawbacks of the tea-room business, isn’t it?”
Mary surveyed her smilingly. “Don’t you really see what to do?” she inquired impressively. “Why, my child, it’s as plain as two and two. Open a gift-shop department, of course.” Mary paused for the full splendor of her idea to dawn upon Betty.
“But—but this is a tea-room,” began Betty doubtfully.
“Of course it is,” Mary took her up, “and if people won’t buy enough tea, you have to give them griddle-cakes, don’t you? And if they don’t jump at griddle-cakes, you’ve got to find out what they will jump at. That’s business. What you want is their money. You’ve got plenty of room for a long table of fol-de-rols over there in the corner. They’ll hear about it and come in to buy Christmas presents, and they’ll see Aunt Martha’s cake melting in their friends’ mouths and have to have some. While they’re eating, they’ll remember that they haven’t bought a thing for their own dear Aunt Martha. So they’ll hop up and pick out more Christmas things. See? That’s Association of Ideas, my child. George Garrison Hinsdale is writing his paper about it. I’m going home this minute to tell him that I know how it works, and also to give him his tea, which is an idea that he associates with me. I’ll be in to-morrow, to see if you’ve found the drawer.”