“Well, it is the same thing, isn’t it?” pouted Mrs. Alexander.
“No, I think your idea of interior decorators is that any ‘paint-slinger or tack-driver’ is a professional. Whereas I see that that is the very error necessary to be reversed by us, before the public recognises the value of genuine decorators. In France and other European countries, an interior decorator has to have a certificate. And that is what we hope to do in the United States—put the real ones through a course of studies and have them examined and a diploma given, before one can claim title to being a decorator.” Eleanor spoke with emphasis and feeling.
“Well, I don’t know a fig about it, or anything else, for that matter,” laughed Dodo, cheerfully. “But I can understand how much more interesting it must be to trot around hunting up worm-eaten furniture, or examining ruined masonry, or admiring moth-holed fabrics, than to do as I have to—follow after Ma and sit with my hands idly folded waiting for some old fossil to pass by and say: ‘I choose her, because she’s got the most cash.’”
Eleanor laughed outright at the girl’s statement, but Mrs. Alexander showed her anger by twisting her shoulders and saying: “Dodo Alexander! If I didn’t know better, I’d believe you were trying to make Eleanor believe that you detested your opportunity!”
Dodo tossed her head and said: “Time will show!”
At that crisis in the conversation, another girl’s voice was heard across the deck. “Nolla! Are you there?”
Eleanor turned and called back: “No, I am not here!”
Then all three girls laughed. The newcomer, Polly Brewster, skipped lightly across the deck, and joined the group she had spied from the open doorway. Eleanor introduced Mrs. Alexander as an old friend of Anne’s, and Dodo her daughter, as an independent American who believed in suffrage and all the rights of American womanhood. At this latter explanation, Dodo grinned and her mother gasped in amazement at Eleanor.
Then Mrs. Alexander said politely: “How is Anne Stewart? I haven’t seen her for some time.”
“Anne is married to my brother John, now,” returned Polly. “And they are going to live home, with mother, while I am away. Anne’s mother is to live at the old home in Denver, and keep house for Paul.”