Hilary’s cedar chest, which had been carefully wrapped and crated, stood in all its glory inside the room, and the old janitor, as he appeared to be, seeming to be in charge of the trunk brigade, was unstrapping a trunk outside.
“O, thank you!” cried Hilary, as the perspiring janitor unlocked the trunk with the key she handed him.
“No tips,” whispered Cathalina aside; “Miss Randolph said she does not allow it.”
Hilary, who had not traveled, except from one of her father’s appointments to another, hardly knew what tipping was, and would never have thought of it, looked wise and said nothing.
A busy hour or two followed. Cathalina told Hilary how nicely her plan worked, so Hilary did likewise, transferring her belongings, rather slowly, it is true, from trunk to closet, bureau drawers and cedar chest without the confusion of the neighboring room. Only light articles had been packed in the cedar chest for the trip.
“It takes longer at first,” remarked Hilary, “but it seems to be the better way. I hope you will not mind, Cathalina, but I’m really not very neat. You see, there was always so much to do at home that I neglected my room sometimes for other things and June so often picked up for both of us.”
“I’m not neat, either,” said Cathalina, “because Etta,—well, I just don’t know how very well.”
“We’ll have to criticise and train each other, then. You come to the bedroom door and say, ‘My dear Hilary, do you intend to leave those things on that chair?’ and I will say politely, ‘O, no, indeed, Cathalina, pray come in and sit down!’” Hilary illustrated her supposed hospitality by lifting from a chair the armful of clothing which she had just sorted. “I heard Diane say that Miss Randolph is very particular about how the girls keep their rooms.”
“Yes, and do you remember how Betty said without smiling a bit that that was why they were in such a hurry to get fixed up!—sitting there in all that muss!” Cathalina stood by the dresser, tucking away the last box of trinkets. She appeared quite a different Cathalina from the one who cheerfully but tearfully had waved farewell to her father earlier that morning. “Let’s go down and see what the grounds look like as soon as you are through.”
“All right,” assented Hilary. “I believe I’ll stop now; I’m tired. The worst is over and I can lay the rest of the things out of the trunk on the bed. Then the trunk can be taken down the next time the men come up with a load. Perhaps that’s why the other girls did that way.”