Part 61 (1/2)

”The girls hate them,” answered Miss Podder. ”They'd rather board--even two or three in a room. They like their independence. You remember Martha Joyce?”

Mrs. MacAvelly remembered. ”Yes,” she said, ”I do--I met her mother this summer.”

”She's a cripple, isn't she?” asked Miss Podder. ”Martha's told me about her.”

”Why, not exactly. She's what a Westerner might call 'crippled up some,' but she's livelier than most well persons.” And she amused her friend with a vivid rehearsal of Mrs. Joyce's love of the city and her former triumphs in restaurant and hotel.

”She'd be a fine one to run such a house for the girls, wouldn't she?”

suddenly cried Miss Podder.

”Why--if she could,” Mrs. MacAvelly admitted slowly.

”_Could!_ Why not? You say she gets about easily enough. All she's have to do is _manage,_ you see. She could order by 'phone and keep the servants running!”

”I'm sure she'd like it,” said Mrs. MacAvelly. ”But don't such things require capital?”

Miss Podder was somewhat daunted. ”Yes--some; but I guess we could raise it. If we could find the right house!”

”Let's look in the paper,” suggested her visitor. ”I've got a _Herald._”

”There's one that reads all right,” Miss Podder presently proclaimed.

”The location's good, and it's got a lot of rooms--furnished. I suppose it would cost too much.”

Mrs. MacAvelly agreed, rather ruefully.

”Come,” she said, ”it's time to close here, surely. Let's go and look at that house, anyway. It's not far.”

They got their permit and were in the house very shortly. ”I remember this place,” said Miss Podder. ”It was for sale earlier in the summer.”

It was one of those once s.p.a.cious houses, not of ”old,” but at least of ”middle-aged” New York; with large rooms arbitrarily divided into smaller ones.

”It's been a boarding-house, that's clear,” said Mrs. MacAvelly.

”Why, of course,” Miss Podder answered, eagerly plunging about and examining everything. ”Anybody could see that! But it's been done over--most thoroughly. The cellar's all whitewashed, and there's a new furnace, and new range, and look at this icebox!” It was an ice-closet, as a matter of fact, of large capacity, and a most sanitary aspect.

”Isn't it too big?” Mrs. MacAvelly inquired.

”Not for a boarding-house, my dear,” Miss Podder enthusiastically replied. ”Why, they could buy a side of beef with that ice-box! And look at the extra ovens! Did you ever see a place better furnished--for what we want? It looks as if it had been done on purpose!”

”It does, doesn't it?” said Mrs. MacAvelley.

Miss Podder, eager and determined, let no gra.s.s grow under her feet.

The rent of the place was within reason.

”If they had twenty boarders--and some ”mealers,” I believe it could be done! she said. ”It's a miracle--this house. Seems as if somebody had done it just for us!”

Armed with a list of girls who would agree to come, for six and seven dollars a week, Miss Podder made a trip to Willettville and laid the matter before Martha's mother.