Patsy Carroll at Wilderness lodge

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I The Great Plan. 1

II Making the Plan Come True. 9

Chapter I The Great Plan

“T^VO say ‘yes/ Aunt Martha! Please, I J please!” Patricia Carroll descended upon her dignified Aunt Martha, as she sat decorously reading in the living room, with the force and velocity of a young tornado. “Really, Patricia,” began Miss Martha Car-

roll in an injured tone, “it seems to me-”

“Never mind how things seem to you, Auntie,” interrupted Patricia, hugging her aunt with the enthusiasm of a delighted bear cub. “Just pause and meditate on how things seem to me. Be¬ sides, it all depends on your saying ‘yes/ Now wouldn’t you love to spend the summer in the Adirondacks? If you would, all you have to do 1 is to win Father over and make him find us a camp to live in. That’s what they call their houses up there, and-”

“What a whirlwind you are, Patricia,” grum¬ bled Miss Martha as she emerged from her niece’s affectionate but devastating embrace. She made a frantic dive for her eyeglasses, which had followed her book to the floor.

Patricia forestalled her. Holding firmly to her aunt with one hand, she bent down, collected the articles with one dexterous swoop and presented them to her slightly ruffled relative.

“See, your majesty,” she declared with a low bow, “here they are, right side up with care. Your eyeglasses are as good as new, and if you’ll tell me just where you left off reading I’ll find your place for you—but not until you hear my lovely plan.”

Miss Martha Carroll settled her eyeglasses firmly upon her nose and said resignedly, “Well, Patricia, what is this wonderful plan of yours? Stop wriggling and sit down in that chair if you expect me to listen to it.”

“I’d rather sit on this little stool, right at your feet, Auntie. I can talk ever so much better,” returned Patricia, as she dragged the stool into position and seated herself. “And now for my splendid plan. You know Father has let me drive my own car for almost a year. Well, I want to take a long trip in it this summer, and right away, too. I’d like to ask Bee and Mab and Nell to go with me, but, of course, we couldn’t go unless we had some responsible per¬ son to take care of us.”

“I should say not,” commented her aunt aus¬ terely.

“That’s just what I’m coming to, Auntie dear. You are the responsible person. If you would agree to chaperon us. Father would let us go.”

“What! I go on a harum-scarum trip in an automobile with four heedless girls? Never 1” Miss Martha’s lips set in a straight, disapprov¬ ing line.

“Now Auntie!” Patricia sprang from her stool and slid a coaxing arm around her aunt’s neck. “You mustn’t—you can’t refuse me. It isn’t as though we were going into an African jungle. We’ll have an automobile guide book and only go on the most public roads. Once we are started it won’t take long to motor up to the Adirondacks. If you approve and are willing to go, Father will say ‘y es ’ and find us a place to live and everything. You never spent a summer in the Adirondacks. You don’t know how wonderful it is. Don’t you remember what a gorg¬ eous time I had with the Jamisons at their camp two years ago?”

Under stress of her niece’s pleading the grim lines about Miss Martha’s mouth relaxed. The idea of spending a summer in the cool north woods was not unattractive. Miss Martha hated the heat of the city, but she hated with equal fervor the seaside, where the Carrolls usually spent their summers. Under her prim, dignified manner lurked a sneaking desire to explore new territory and to see new things. Patricia’s plan might bear looking into, but it would never do to yield too easily.

“I remember your visit to the Jamisons,” she conceded. “I shall have to think the matter over before I make any rash promises. At dinner to¬ night you can talk to your father about it and if he is willing-”

“Aunt Martha, you’re a darling!” cried Pa¬ tricia, making a fresh onslaught upon her digni¬ fied relative.

“Wait, wait!” Miss Martha raised a protesting hand. “I haven’t agreed to go on this wild-goose chase yet. I merely said we would talk with your father about it.”

“But it’s as good as settled when you take a hand,” laughed Patricia. “I’m going over to see Nell and Mab this minute. They’ll have to do some coaxing, too. The only one I’m not sure of is Bee. And we’ve got to have her. What would we do without her? Good-bye, Auntie, I’m off to see the girls.”

Dropping a hasty kiss on her aunt’s forehead, Patricia ran out of the living room and up the stairs as fast as her legs would carry her. She was back again in a twinkling, a broad, ribboncircled Panama set rakishly on her head. A fran¬ tic wave of her hand in her aunt’s direction, a slam of the front door and Patricia was running down the broad stone walk and across the lawn to the iron gate that separated the Carroll’s beau¬ tiful grounds from those of the Perry estate and the home of the two Perry girls, her sworn com¬ panions of many years.

“Hoo-oo!” she trilled, as she caught sight of two familiar white-clad figures in a vine-covered pavilion at the far edge of the lawn.

Two fresh young voices answered her call. Then arm in arm the white-gowned girls hur¬ ried across the lawn to meet her.

“Oh, girls!” exclaimed Patricia, “I’m so glad I found you. I’m just bursting with news. Tell me, do you suppose your mother’ll let you go on an automobile trip to the Adirondacks ?”

“Calm yourself, Patsy/’ laughed the taller of the two girls, her blue eyes dancing. “Why this sudden excitement? Are you thinking of per¬ sonally conducting a sight-seeing party to the Adirondacks? I can just see your Aunt Martha letting you do it.”

“Or sitting up on the front seat of the car beside you,” giggled Mabel Perry, a slim, blue¬ eyed, golden-haired replica of her older sister Eleanor.

“You don’t think I’m in earnest,” burst forth Patricia impatiently. “Just let me tell you that I am. I’ve just been interviewing Aunt Martha and, you may believe it or not, she didn’t say ‘no/ I’m to talk with Father about it at dinner to¬ night, and if he’s willing-” Patricia paused.

“Then it’s little Patsy for the mountains,” sup¬ plemented Eleanor Perry. ,

“Yes, and Nell and Mab Perry and Bee Forbes, too,” added Patricia triumphantly. Then, in glowing, eager words, she outlined her plan to her friends.

“It sounds glorious,” sighed Eleanor, “but I am afraid Mother won’t let us go.”

“Nonsense!” scoffed Patricia. “She will if Aunt Martha heads the van. It isn’t you girls

I’m not sure of. It’s Bee that is worrying me. She has to help her mother, you know, and be¬ sides, she’s such a proud old dear she won’t wish to accept even a trip from her Patsy chum. We’ve got to have her, too.”

“I should say so,” chorused the sisters.

“What is life in an automobile without Bee?” demanded Mab.

“Don’t you dare say a word to your mother about this stunt until Father and Aunt Martha put their O. K. on it. Once they’ve agreed to things, they’ll help convince her that the welfare of her two illustrious daughters lies in allowing Miss Patricia Carroll to motor them over the hills and far away. We won’t tell Bee yet, either. Not until it’s a sure thing.”

By this time the three girls had reached the pavilion. Seating themselves in characteris¬ tically comfortable attitudes, they began an ani¬ mated discussion of the greatly-to-be-hoped-for trip that lasted until the sun began his climb down the western sky for his late afternoon dis¬ play of gorgeous reds and yellows.

“It’s almost six,” commented Patricia, glanc¬ ing at her wrist watch. “In thirty minutes more the Carrolls will be eating dinner and our pro¬ posed expedition into pastures new will either flourish or die a sudden death. I must go now, but I’ll run over after dinner with the news, good or bad. But it’s us for the road if Patsy Carroll has anything to say about it; and let me tell you right here, she’s going to have a whole lot to say.”

Chapter II Making The Plan Come True

“ UT what makes you think that I shall be perfectly willing to let you start out on a harum-scarum adventure such as you propose?” questioned Mr. Carroll solemnly at dinner that night, as he deftly mixed the dressing and served the salad.

Patricia leaned toward him, her gray eyes round with earnestness. “But it isn’t a harum-scarum adventure, Dad,” she argued. “It’s dif¬ ferent from just packing one’s clothes and rid¬ ing on a train to some resort that one doesn’t care anything about; but it’s a perfectly sane and proper plan. Aunt Martha thinks so, don’t you, Auntie?”

“Really, Robert,” broke in Miss Martha, “I don’t suppose there would be any great amount of danger. Patricia understands running her car. I imagine the roads are good, too. Of course, I should absolutely refuse to travel at night. I dare say we could find plenty of good hotels along the way, though.”

Patricia listened in delighted amazement. Aunt Martha was actually on her side, trying to further the great plan. She opened her lips to speak, then shut them tightly. Her aunt should have the floor.

‘‘Do you mean to tell me, Martha, that you are willing to trust life and limb to four heed¬ less young women, who are quite likely to leap first and look afterward?” demanded Mr. Carroll, with twinkling eyes.

This was too much for Patricia. Springing from her chair, she pounced upon her father and, seizing him by the shoulders, began shaking him vigorously. “Take it back, Dad! Take it back!” she exclaimed between shakes. “You know per¬ fectly well I’m not heedless. Haven’t I driven my car for a year all over town and never had a single accident? And Mabel and Nell are as staid and sober as judges. And you’re forget¬ ting Bee! Why, Bee’s as brave as a lion. She isn’t afraid of anything; and, besides, she has loads of common sense. You said so your ownself. Don’t you remember?”

“I do, indeed. I take it all back. I had no ii idea you were such a ruffian,” laughed her father, winding his arm about her and drawing her to his side. “Now if you’ll sit down and finish the salad I took so much trouble to dress for you, we’ll discuss this weighty question of your fitness to personally conduct a party of venturesome maidens into the wilds. By the way,” added Mr. Carroll, “you haven’t told me where you are going. I suppose that has been decided, too.”

Patricia slipped into her place at the table and regarded her father with eager eyes.

“Yes, Dad,” she purred. “The place is de¬ cided. We’d love to motor to Lake Placid, away up in the Adirondacks, and spend at least two months there. But we don’t want to live in a hotel. We’d like one of those dandy camps that you read about. I don’t know whether there are any for rent or not, but that’s where you come in. You can find out for us, and if Mab and Nell’s mother is willing and Bee can go, then I can have a little house party, with Aunt Martha for chaperon. Of course, it will cost quite a lot of money, but you don’t care for that, do you, Dad, as long as your little girl’s happy?”

Patricia’s last question had touched a respon¬ sive chord. The one glory of Robert Carroll’s life was his gray-eyed, auburn-haired daughter, the image of the mother who had passed away when Patricia was a baby, and whose place in her husband’s sorrowing heart had never been usurped. From her babyhood Patricia had been her father’s idol, and as she passed from littlegirlhood to radiant young womanhood his love for her grew and deepened.

Miss Martha Carroll, his only sister, who had made the great lonely house, home, and had cared for his baby daughter after her mother’s untimely death, was equally in Patricia’s toils. In spite of her dignity and air of tolerance toward her high-spirited niece, she adored Patricia with a fervor second only to that of her father. There¬ fore, Patricia stood every chance of winning her point.

“Well, well; perhaps there is a little method in your madness,” conceded Mr. Carroll as his excited daughter finished her impassioned ap¬ peal. “I won’t promise anything definite yet, Patsy girl, but I’ll think it over and make a few inquiries about Lake Placid. I haven’t been up there in some years and I don’t know whether any one up there would have a camp for rent or not. You’re sure that no place else will do?” he quizzed.

“No, Dad,” returned Patricia, setting her firm little chin, “it’s Lake Placid or nothing. We’ll live in a hotel if we must, but I’m perfectly sure you can fix things if you try real hard.”

“Thank you,” bowed her father ironically. Then, turning to his sister, he asked lightly: “What about you, Martha? Are you heart and soul for Lake Placid, too?”

“Really, Robert, now that I’m used to this idea of Patricia’s, it doesn’t sound so impossible. I rather like it. I’ve never been in the Adirondacks, and they tell me Lake Placid is a most delightful place to summer in. You might make inquiry about the camp. It would do no harm.”

“You are perfect dears, both of you,” cried Patricia, “and I know you won’t mind if I don’t stop for dessert. You’ll excuse me, won’t you? I simply must tell the girls that there is hope. If only their mother and father are as splendid about it as you’ve been, we’ll soon start for the mountains:”

“Run along,” laughed Mr. Carroll. “As for your dessert, the less there is for you, the more there is for me.”

Dropping a light kiss on the top of her father’s head, Patricia danced out of the room. A second later the hall door closed with a resounding bang.

“What a little whirlwind she is,” smiled Mr. Carroll. “I wonder if she can really be trusted to be her own chauffeur and keep herself as well as the rest of you out of mischief, provided I decide to let her have her way?”

Miss Martha looked solemn for a second, then she said with a sudden air of decision: “Yes, Robert, I think you can trust Patricia. Remem¬ ber, I shall be with the girls, and then, too, Beatrice Forbes is a girl of rare good sense. The Perry girls are nice little things and not at all giddy or hard to manage. Besides, the prospect of a summer in the mountains is very pleasant. I am beginning to be quite enthusiastic. Only I should be better pleased if you could find time to run up there yourself and look things over. I haven’t much faith in agents.”

“I’ve been thinking of doing that very thing,” nodded Mr. Carroll, “only don’t tell Patricia. Whatever I find I wish to keep as a surprise for her. I’ll try to take a run up there the last of the week, and if I can make arrangements, then you can go ahead and do your worst—or your best.”

“It is extremely nice in you to take so much interest in Patricia’s plan, Robert,” approved his sister warmly.

i5

“You’d do the same, Martha. We’re both in Patsy’s toils. Doesn’t she always get just what she wants when she wants it?”

“Yet it hasn’t spoiled her a bit,” retorted Miss Martha. “Patricia is sweet-tempered and wholly unselfish.”

“She is like her mother.” Mr. Carroll’s eyes were filled with an old sorrow. He sat silent for a little while, then as his sister rose from the table, he said in his usual business-like tones, “I’ll leave the question of luggage, etc., to you, Mar¬ tha. Better make a schedule of just what you’ll need for the trip. I have a feeling that you are going to take it.”

While her father and aunt were discussing the proposed trip, Patricia had raced across the lawn at the top of her speed. The Perrys’ gate slammed energetically behind her, and she ran madly up the drive and up the steps as though her life depended upon it. Feeling for the bell, she pushed the button, but she had not taken her finger off it when the door swung wide, and two girlish figures descended upon her and whisked her inside.

“Did you ask him? What did he say? What does your aunt think?” were the questions that assailed Patricia’s ears.

“For goodness’ sake, tell us the worst,” pleaded Mabel. “We’re crazy with suspense. After you had gone, Patsy, Nell and I kept on talking about what fun a motor trip would be, and the more we talked the more excited we were. If everything is promising I wish you’d go and help break the news to Mother and Father. They’re in the living room. We’ll never have a better chance.”

“Everything is lovely, so far, girls,” assured Patricia. “Father approves and so does Aunt Martha. What I’m not sure of is whether we can rent or lease a camp at Lake Placid. I sup¬ pose that the people who own camps up there occupy them every summer. Perhaps some of them live there the year round. Father is going to see what he can do for us. Still, that needn’t prevent your interviewing the powers that be. We are positively going somewhere in my car, so lead me to the living room and see what hap¬ pens. Here, take a wing.” Patricia gallantly offered an arm to each girl and the firmly linked trio marched through the wide, arched doorway into the living room, bringing up directly in front of Mrs. Perry’s chair.

“Well, what is it?” she asked, smiling up at the three eager faces.

Mr. Perry, who had been deep in a trade paper, peered shrewdly over his glasses. “It’s a con¬ spiracy, Laura,” he warned. “Be careful what you promise.”

“Of course it’s a conspiracy,” agreed Patricia, her eyes dancing, “a perfectly delightful one.” Then she plunged abruptly into the all-important subject. Hardly had she finished when there came a pleading chorus of “Can’t we go? Please let us,” from the excited sisters.

“You fairly take my breath,” complained Mr. Perry. “How can you expect us to decide such a weighty matter at once?”

“Don’t stop to decide, just say ‘yes’ this min¬ ute,” put in Patricia audaciously.

“What do Mr. and Miss Carroll say?” was Mrs. Perry’s question.

“Mr. and Miss Carroll are de-lighted,” in¬ formed Patricia with emphasis. “If Father can find a nice camp for us the expedition can go forward with a grand rush—that is if all the* members can make satisfactory ar¬ rangements with their families,” she added slyly.

“Well, who knows?—perhaps they can,” tan¬ talized Mr. Perry. “This is all so sudden. You’ll have to give the committee time to take action.

How many noted explorers of the wilds are planning to go?”

“Aunt Martha, Mabel, Nell, Bee Forbes and I,” announced Patricia, “and I’m going to drive the car. We haven’t asked Bee yet, but she’ll just have to go. We can’t get along without her. We’re going over to see her now. We hope the committee will take favorable action while we’re gone.”

“We can go with Patsy to see Bee, can’t we. Mother?” asked Eleanor.

“Yes; don’t stay long. You haven’t done your last hour of practice yet, and Mabel is going to look up some references for me for my club arti¬ cle.”

“We’ll hurry back; honest Injun,” promised Mabel.

With armsistill firmly linked, the trio wheeled and marched out of the room, all talking at once. Mr. and Mrs. Perry smiled at each other as the hall door closed and the echo of their running footsteps on the stone walk died away. Their exchange of smiles did not presage refusal.

Within two blocks of the beautiful homes of the Carrolls and Perrys was the modest, two-story brick house in which Beatrice Forbes, the fourth member of the quartette of girls, lived.

Beatrice’s mother was a widow who supported herself and her daughter by selling millinery in one of the largest shops of the flourishing little city of Morton. Beatrice, known as Bee, to her intimate friends, had just been graduated from the Morton High School. The four chums were members of the same class, but, while Patricia Carroll and the two Perry girls looked forward to college in the autumn, Beatrice had taken and, as a result of hard study, had passed the commis¬ sioner’s examinations for a certificate that would enable her to teach in the lower grades of the grammar schools. She had applied for a posi¬ tion and only that day she had received the joy¬ ful news of her acceptance and assignment to the second grade of the Dexter School.

It had been a happy day for Beatrice and, as she wiped the supper dishes that night, she put some of her exuberant joy into song. She had just finished wiping the last dish and was on the last line of 19—’s class song when the doorbell shrilled three times in quick succession. It was the ring affected by the chums, and hastily sliding.the dish into place on the sideboard, Beatrice ran to open the door.

“How did you know that I wanted to see you?” she cried at sight of her friends.

“We didn’t know it,” replied Patricia. “We came because we wanted to see you.”

“ ‘Kind captain, I’ve important information,’ ” trilled Mabel, who had sung in an amateur pro¬ duction of “Pinafore” the week before.

“But it’s not about the merry maiden and the tar,” caroled Patricia. “It’s a whole lot more interesting.”

“I’ve something to tell you, too,” declared Beatrice.

By this time they had trooped into the Forbes’ cozy sitting room, where Mrs. Forbes sat sewing. She was a dark-eyed, sweet-faced woman with brown hair that broke away from her forehead in little crinkles and waves. Beatrice resembled her strongly, although she was taller and had a sturdy air of independence which her mother lacked. While the mother’s face was beautiful, the daughter’s made up in strength and intelli¬ gence what it lacked in the way of purely femi¬ nine beauty.

“Which of us is going to talk first?” queried Patricia impatiently after they had exchanged a few pleasantries with Mrs. Forbes.

“I’ll tell my news first, because somehow I don’t believe it’s as important as yours—that is, it is more important to Mother and me than to any one else. I can see by the way Patsy acts that she has a marvelous tale to unfold.”

“Wise Bee. I have. But let us hear your news first.”

“I’m going to be a second grade teacher in the Dexter grammar school,” said Beatrice, her voice trembling a little. “I received the notice of my appointment to-day.”

“How splendid!” chorused Mabel and Eleanor Perry. Patricia, however, looked solemn.

“What’s the matter, Patsy? Aren’t you glad I received the appointment?” Beatrice’s tones sounded hurt and wistful.

“Oh, Bee,” burst forth Patricia. “I can’t be glad. You know I want you to go to college. I’ve always thought we’d be freshmen together. If only you’d let Father lend you the money-”

“I couldn’t do that, dear.” Bee’s voice was gentle, yet it rang with pride. “I—I—haven’t told you all our news. Mother has an invitation from a great-aunt, whom she never saw but once, to spend the summer at her farm. Poor Mother hasn’t had a vacation for years, so I am trying to coax her to go. She says she can’t, but I know I can get a position in Winton’s drugstore at the magazine and stationery counter. Mr. Winton offered it to me last week. He will give me six dollars a week and I can get along nicely on that. You see, we own our house, so I don’t have to pay rent. Now, don’t you think I’m lucky?”

During Beatrice’s recital the three girls had exchanged numerous significant glances. When she ceased speaking there was an instant’s silence, then, ignoring her question, Patricia spoke in tones vibrant with excitement:

“After what you’ve just told m£, Bee Forbes, I really and truly believe in Fate. That invita¬ tion your great-aunt sent your mother is sheer Providence. But I can’t imagine you working in Winton’s drugstore. I imagine I see you sit¬ ting on the front seat of a big dark blue automo¬ bile with the chauffeur. The chauffeur has gray eyes and auburn hair—some people are rude enough to call it red—and on the back seat

“Patsy, have you suddenly gone crazy?” ex¬ claimed Bee. “I don’t understand-”

“You will in two seconds,” interrupted Pa¬ tricia. “We are going to take a motor trip to Lake Placid—we hope it will be Lake Placid— away up in the Adirondack Mountains. The venerable Patsy Carroll is going to be the chauf¬ feur. Mab, Nell and you are going, and Aunt Martha is going to play chaperon. Everything is arranged except a mere detail like finding a camp. We’re not going to stop at a hotel, you know, provided we can rent or lease a camp for three months. Now, which will you choose, to languish in Winton’s drugstore all summer or enlist under the glorious banner of our expe¬ dition? She may go with us, mayn’t she, Mrs. Forbes?” Patricia turned eagerly to Beatrice’s mother and poured forth a more detailed account of the great plan.

“I hardly know what to say,” rejoined the little woman, eyeing her daughter reflectively.

“Oh, yes, I forgot,” went on Patricia. “Aunt Martha is going to call on you and talk the trip over when everything is settled, but we just had to come and tell Bee and you about it.”

“I am sure the trip would do my little girl a world of good.” Mrs. Forbes’ eyes rested tend¬ erly on her daughter. “She has studied and worked so hard. She really needs a rest. I had not intended to go away, but Beatrice insists that I must go, and my firm have very kindly offered to hold my position open for me when I return in the fall.”

“But, Mother, do you think I ought to give up my chance of work all summer?” Beatrice’s brown eyes were anxious. “You’ve worked so hard to keep me in school. Isn’t it right for me to begin to earn my own way?”

For a moment mother and daughter forgot their visitors. Each thought only of the welfare of the other. Then Mrs. Forbes spoke.

“Fall will be time enough for you to begin earning a living, dear. The summer in the moun¬ tains would be wonderful for you; but I cannot give my consent to your going yet. I must think it over first.”

“Oh, dear,” was Patricia’s doleful cry, “here we are at a standstill again. Mr. and Mrs. Perry are thinking things over, too. So are Father and Aunt Martha. There’s one consolation: ‘great minds run in the same channel,’ and it will surely be the right channel. While we are all here let’s think about what we are going to call ourselves, if we go. Don’t forget the ‘if.’ ”

“We could call ourselves the Motor Girls,” suggested Mabel.

“That’s too matter of fact,” objected Eleanor.

“We could call ourselves the Vagabonds. We are going to be something like vagabonds,” asserted Patricia, “only Aunt Martha wouldn’t like it the least little bit.” She smiled at the idea of referring to stately Miss Martha as a vaga¬ bond.

“Why couldn’t we call ourselves the Wayfar¬ ers?” proposed Beatrice eagerly. “There is something so delightful about the word ‘way¬ farer.’ It sounds carefree, and if we go we will truly be wayfarers, even if we do ride in an auto¬ mobile. Didn’t you say, Patsy, that we were to travel by day and look for shelter wherever the night found us?”

“Hurrah!” cried Patricia. “Bee’s found a name for us already. Three cheers for the Way¬ farers, and the long road to the mountains!”

Chapter III The Beautiful Land Of Adventure

F OR the next week the Wayfarers, as they had decided to call themselves, lived in a quiver of expectation. Mrs. Forbes had been won over to Patricia’s plan, and Beatrice, after considerable hesitation and much coaxing, had at last consented to give up her plan of sup¬ porting herself through the summer to go on the glorious expedition. The question of suit¬ able clothes had been a source of worriment to her, and in order to make her mind easy on that score Patricia and the Perry girls had good-naturedly agreed in private to take only their plainest gowns. Then Patricia had called a spe¬ cial session ostensibly to discuss the subject of dress. “Our graduating gowns will do for eve¬ ning dresses,” she said. “We aren’t going in for society, but we may have to use them once or twice. We all ought to have plenty of middy 26 blouses and white linen skirts. Wash dresses are all right, too. One suit apiece is enough and two hats per girl will see us through. You can all do as you like about shoes, slippers, bathrobes, negligees, kimonos-”

“It sounds like the elevator man in a depart¬ ment store,” giggled Eleanor.