“We’ll have the contract, all right, but we will only buy what we need from Mr. Ashby, at regular discount, you know,” explained Eleanor in a business-like manner.
Mr. Dalken smiled indulgently on his two young friends who had developed such marvelous aptitude for business since their trip abroad that summer. And young Baxter concluded with: “All right; tomorrow, you girls get Mrs. Fabian, and come over to my rooms to get your ‘atmosphere.’ Then we’ll start in and shop.”
So the next ten days were filled with a great many visits to the apartment to determine certain colors and styles of things, and with a great deal of important conferring between the client and the decorators. But eventually, the apartment was almost ready for its occupant, and three young people declared that the decorating was a work of art—simply perfect! And it did not cost so very much, either! Mr. Dalken reserved his opinion on costs, however, and laughed in his sleeve at Baxter, for the latter had no more need of an apartment than a cat has for two tails. It was a whim of his to give the girls a contract, and Jack could afford whims, so his guardian said nothing about the bills.
“Well, I must say,” said Polly the day after Jack held a “house-warming” in his newly furnished domain, “I never saw ten days go by as fast as these did. Here we are almost on top of that sale in the country, and it seems like yesterday that we got the announcement.”
“It shows how much we really love our profession,” said Eleanor, “when we get so much pleasure out of work.”
But Dodo was present at some of the conferences the two amateur decorators held with Jack and she now remarked: “Work! did you two think that going about in Jack’s sporty car and lunching at swell dining-rooms, or holding up a strip of gold-gauze to watch the sheen on your hand, was hard work?”
Mrs. Fabian laughed to herself at the conversation. But Polly answered with an experienced air: “When you have had years of study in decorating, like Nolla and I have had, you will find that work is not altogether a physical effort. At present, in your apprenticeship, you do more than you saw us do in furnishing, but you’ll learn, some day!”
Dodo tossed her head confidently, and remarked: “I have nothing more to learn—if your knowledge is the acme of the understanding of your trade.”
As no reply was given this statement, Mrs. Fabian hurried from the room to laugh quietly to herself at the egotism of youth. Later when Mr. Ashby was told the story, he said:
“When they have been at the profession for thirty years, and have acquired all the knowledge that I have in that time, they will begin to learn that we all know very little of harmony and perfect ideals in decorating.”