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Updated: July 28, 2025
Arline had told her bluntly that "the bunch" didn't want any coffee and cake. Whisky and cigars, said Arline, without so much as a blush, was what appealed to them fellows. If Manley handed it out liberal enough, they wouldn't bother his bride. Very likely, Arline had assured her, she wouldn't see one of them. That, on the whole, had been rather discouraging.
She went to the stable with Val, her apron thrown over her head for want of a hat. "When Val was settling herself in the seat, Arline caught at the wheel. "Say! How'n time you goin' to git your trunks loaded into the wagon?" she cried. "You can't do it alone." Val parsed her lips; she had not thought of that. "But Polycarp will come, by the time I am ready," she decided.
"I'm glad you're real modest about it," Arline retorted sharply. She was beginning to tell herself quite frequently that she "didn't have no time for Man Fleetwood, seeing he wouldn't brace up and quit drinkin." Val's lips curled as she looked at Manley's back.
But for the sake of the child which she expected she would have likely died with grief. The Canadian girl, Arline Bertrand, had told her so much of Canada, especially of Montreal, that she decided to follow the girl to her native land, and try to earn a living for herself and child, should God spare it, there, particularly as her aunt, Mrs.
"'Every little bit helps'" chuckled Arline as she opened the bank book and pointed to the new entry. She and Grace were on their way from the bank. "I should say it did," returned Grace warmly. "I only wish we could always make money as easily and pleasantly as we made that two hundred dollars." "It was lots of fun, wasn't it?" declared Arline happily.
"Nor I," admitted Grace, "until she mentioned it. Then I saw the wisdom of it." "Where are we to meet Ruth and Arline?" asked Anne. "Suppose both of them arrive at Vinton's before we do?" "I thought of that, too," chuckled Grace, "so Arline is to come here, and Ruth is to wait for us at Vinton's. They can't possibly meet until we are there to manage matters. Arline ought to be here by this time.
"I'm going to tell you now, and you mustn't stop me. I was brought up in an orphan asylum. That's why I didn't care to tell you about myself that evening." "You poor, precious dear!" exclaimed Arline. "How can I ever forgive myself for being so horrid? Won't you forgive me, Ruth? I never supposed it was anything like that. I was angry because you called me your best friend, but wouldn't trust me.
That's rather a long distance for Emma to come. You know she lives farther away than the rest of us. Why can't you come down to Wildwood again? I am nothing if not hospitable." "But it's my turn, now, J. Elfreda," protested Arline. "Why can't you come here?" "What's the use in taking turns?" propounded Elfreda sturdily.
I hope Mabel Ashe will never grow cruel and unfeeling and dishonorable." "She won't," predicted Arline. "Father knows many delightful newspaper women who are above reproach. Besides, Mabel will never remain on a newspaper long enough to change. There is a certain young lawyer in New York City who adores her, and I think she cares for him.
"I forbid you to mention the subject," cried Grace, her fine face clouding. "We mustn't even think of it. Oh, listen, Arline! The orchestra has begun that Strauss waltz I like so well. I'm going to put these clumsy old andirons over in the corner; then we'll dance and forget that we are seniors and must pay the penalty."
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