"M'm!" said Mrs. Bell. "Well, it's an interesting experiment. But how about you? So far you are $410 behind."

"Yes, because my rent's so big. But I cover that by letting the rooms, you see."

Mrs. Bell considered the orders of this sort. "So far it averages about $25.00 a week; that's doing well."

"It will be less in summer--much less," Diantha suggested. "Suppose you call it an average of $15.00."

"Call it $10.00," said her mother ruthlessly. "At that it covers your deficit and $110 over."

"Which isn't much to live on," Diantha agreed, "but then comes my special catering, and the lunches."

Here they were quite at sea for a while. But as the months pa.s.sed, and the work steadily grew on their hands, Mrs. Bell became more and more cheerful. She was up with the earliest, took entire charge of the financial part of the concern, and at last Diantha was able to rest fully in her afternoon hours. What delighted her most was to see her mother thrive in the work. Her thin shoulders lifted a little as small dragging tasks were forgotten and a large growing business subst.i.tuted.

Her eyes grew bright again, she held her head as she did in her keen girlhood, and her daughter felt fresh hope and power as she saw already the benefit of the new method as affecting her nearest and dearest.

All Diantha's friends watched the spread of the work with keenly sympathetic intent; but to Mrs. Weatherstone it became almost as fascinating as to the girl herself.

"It's going to be one of the finest businesses in the world!" she said, "And one of the largest and best paying. Now I'll have a surprise ready for that girl in the spring, and another next year, if I'm not mistaken!"

There were long and vivid discussions of the matter between her and her friends the p.o.r.nes, and Mrs. p.o.r.ne spent more hours in her "drawing room" than she had for years.

But while these unmentioned surprises were pending, Mrs. Weatherstone departed to New York--to Europe; and was gone some months. In the spring she returned, in April--which is late June in Orchardina. She called upon Diantha and her mother at once, and opened her attack.

"I do hope, Mrs. Bell, that you'll back me up," she said. "You have the better business head I think, in the financial line."

"She has," Diantha admitted. "She's ten times as good as I am at that; but she's no more willing to carry obligation than I am, Mrs.

Weatherstone."

"Obligation is one thing--investment is another," said her guest. "I live on my money--that is, on other people's work. I am a base capitalist, and you seem to me good material to invest in. So--take it or leave it--I've brought you an offer."

She then produced from her hand bag some papers, and, from her car outside, a large object carefully boxed, about the size and shape of a plate warmer. This being placed on the table before them, was uncovered, and proved to be a food container of a new model.

"I had one made in Paris," she explained, "and the rest copied here to save paying duty. Lift it!"

They lifted it in amazement--it was so light.

"Aluminum," she said, proudly, "Silver plated--new process! And bamboo at the corners you see. All lined and interlined with asbestos, rubber fittings for silver ware, plate racks, food compartments--see?"

She pulled out drawers, opened little doors, and rapidly laid out a table service for five.

"It will hold food for five--the average family, you know. For larger orders you'll have to send more. I had to make _some_ estimate."

"What lovely dishes!" said Diantha.

"Aren't they! Aluminum, silvered! If your washers are careful they won't get dented, and you can't break 'em."

Mrs. Bell examined the case and all its fittings with eager attention.

"It's the prettiest thing I ever saw," she said. "Look, Diantha; here's for soup, here's for water--or wine if you want, all your knives and forks at the side, j.a.panese napkins up here. Its lovely, but--I should think--expensive!"

Mrs. Weatherstone smiled. "I've had twenty-five of them made. They cost, with the fittings, $100 apiece, $2,500. I will rent them to you, Miss Bell, at a rate of 10 per cent. interest; only $250 a year!"

"It ought to take more," said Mrs. Bell, "there'll be breakage and waste."

"You can't break them, I tell you," said the cheerful visitor, "and dents can be smoothed out in any tin shop--you'll have to pay for it;--will that satisfy you?"

Diantha was looking at her, her eyes deep with grat.i.tude. "I--you know what I think of you!" she said.

Mrs. Weatherstone laughed. "I'm not through yet," she said. "Look at my next piece of impudence!" This was only on paper, but the pictures were amply illuminating.

"I went to several factories," she gleefully explained, "here and abroad. A Yankee firm built it. It's in my garage now!"

It was a light gasolene motor wagon, the body built like those old-fashioned moving wagons which were also used for excursions, wherein the floor of the vehicle was rather narrow, and set low, and the seats ran lengthwise, widening out over the wheels; only here the wheels were lower, and in the s.p.a.ce under the seats ran a row of lockers opening outside. Mrs. Weatherstone smiled triumphantly.

"Now, Diantha Bell," she said, "here's something you haven't thought of, I do believe! This estimable vehicle will carry thirty people inside easily," and she showed them how each side held twelve, and turn-up seats accommodated six more; "and outside,"--she showed the lengthwise picture--"it carries twenty-four containers. If you want to send all your twenty-five at once, one can go here by the driver.

"Now then. This is not an obligation, Miss Bell, it is another valuable investment. I'm having more made. I expect to have use for them in a good many places. This cost pretty near $3,000, and you get it at the same good interest, for $300 a year. What's more, if you are smart enough--and I don't doubt you are,--you can buy the whole thing on installments, same as you mean to with your furniture."

Diantha was dumb, but her mother wasn't. She thanked Mrs. Weatherstone with a hearty appreciation of her opportune help, but no less of her excellent investment.

"Don't be a goose, Diantha," she said. "You will set up your food business in first cla.s.s style, and I think you can carry it successfully. But Mrs. Weatherstone's right; she's got a new investment here that'll pay her better than most others--and be a growing thing I do believe."

And still Diantha found it difficult to express her feelings. She had lived under a good deal of strain for many months now, and this sudden opening out of her plans was a heavenly help indeed.

Mrs. Weatherstone went around the table and sat by her. "Child," said she, "you don't begin to realize what you've done for me--and for Isobel--and for ever so many in this town, and all over the world. And besides, don't you think anybody else can see your dream? We can't _do_ it as you can, but we can see what it's going to mean,--and we'll help if we can. You wouldn't grudge us that, would you?"

As a result of all this the cooked food delivery service was opened at once.

"It is true that the tourists are gone, mostly," said Mrs. Weatherstone, as she urged it, "but you see there are ever so many residents who have more trouble with servants in summer than they do in winter, and hate to have a fire in the house, too."

So Diantha's circulars had an addition, forthwith.

These were distributed among the Orchardinians, setting their tongues wagging anew, as a fresh breeze stirs the eaves of the forest.

The stealthy inroads of lunches and evening refreshments had been deprecated already; this new kind of servant who wasn't a servant, but held her head up like anyone else ("They are as independent as--as--'salesladies,'" said one critic), was also viewed with alarm; but when even this domestic a.s.sistant was to be removed, and a square case of food and dishes subst.i.tuted, all Archaic Orchardina was horrified.

There were plenty of new minds in the place, however; enough to start Diantha with seven full orders and five partial ones.

Her work at the club was now much easier, thanks to her mother's a.s.sistance, to the smoother running of all the machinery with the pa.s.sing of time, and further to the fact that most of her girls were now working at summer resorts, for shorter hours and higher wages. They paid for their rooms at the club still, but the work of the house was so much lightened that each of the employees was given two weeks of vacation--on full pay.

The lunch department kept on a pretty regular basis from the patronage of resident business men, and the young manager--in her ambitious moments--planned for enlarging it in the winter. But during the summer her whole energies went to perfecting the _menus_ and the service of her food delivery.

Mrs. p.o.r.ne was the very first to order. She had been waiting impatiently for a chance to try the plan, and, with her husband, had the firmest faith in Diantha's capacity to carry it through.

"We don't save much in money," she explained to the eager Mrs. Ree, who hovered, fascinated, over the dangerous topic, "but we do in comfort, I can tell you. You see I had two girls, paid them $12 a week; now I keep just the one, for $6. My food and fuel for the four of us (I don't count the babies either time--they remain as before), was all of $16, often more. That made $28 a week. Now I pay for three meals a day, delivered, for three of us, $15 a week--with the nurse's wages, $21.

Then I pay a laundress one day, $2, and her two meals, $.50, making $23.50. Then I have two maids, for an hour a day, to clean; $.50 a day for six days, $3, and one maid Sunday, $.25. $26.75 in all. So we only make $1.25.

_But!_ there's another room! We have the cook's room for an extra guest; I use it most for a sewing room, though and the kitchen is a sort of day nursery now. The house seems as big again!"

"But the food?" eagerly inquired Mrs. Ree. "Is it as good as your own?