The Scott house was a scene of great activity on the morning following the party. John Hadley, who took upon himself to assume the leadership of the boys, and Jack Wilkinson, an able lieutenant, had put their heads together on the way home the night before. Before taking leave of the other boys, John cautioned them to get excused from work—it was Saturday, and a half holiday—and to be on hand early. “Wear your old clothes,” he warned them. Having the keys in their possession, he and Jack accompanied by Mrs. Hadley, were the first to arrive. Like a good commander, John had planned ahead—in his Ford he had a collection of buckets, scrub-brushes, brooms, and other implements with which to give the place a thorough scouring. The other boys, arriving soon after, and seeing the array of implements lined upon the porch, realized that they had not come to play.

Consequently, when the girls came to the scene of action in Lily’s car about an hour later, they found the work progressing rapidly under the direction of Mrs. Hadley. The windows all over the house were open wide to admit the air and sunshine. A medley of sounds greeted their ears: singing, whistling, the boys’ voices calling back and forth in the empty house. But over all the swish of the broom and the scrub-brush predominated.

The appearance of the girls caused a momentary cessation in the work. John and Jack, who had been removing the barricade of boards from the lower windows and doors and were storing them in the stable, came around to the front of the house; boys’ heads appeared at the windows here and there. And when Marjorie, who was the first out of the car, ran up the porch steps, Mrs. Hadley stepped from the doorway to welcome her. Looking inside, the girl saw the two new boys, Pierce Ellison and Eugene Schofield, grinning out at her, their hands laden with soap, cleaning rags, and scrub-brushes.

“Behold! The Gold Dust Twins!” cried Lily.

“But you have progressed marvellously!” exclaimed Marjorie.

“Regular Brownies, cleaning up while we slept,” said Ethel.

“Girls, before we do another thing, let’s go on a tour of inspection,” suggested Marjorie. “I want to see everything.”

So they went about examining the house, while the boys went back to work again.

The double doors opened upon a wide central hallway, from which the stairway in the rear led to the apartments above; on each side was a large, high-ceilinged room, with windows extending to the floor, and a fire-place in the corner.

“We must certainly take this room on the left, with the side entrance from the garden, for the tea-room,” remarked Marjorie. “The lay-out could not be more suitable. Evidently the Scotts used it for their dining-room, for here is a breakfast room and kitchen adjoining. We could fix up the living-room as a sort of rest-room, where people could sit for awhile after having tea.”

When they passed into the kitchen they examined everything with close attention, almost as if they were practiced housekeepers.

“Isn’t it lucky to find a gas stove!” cried Ethel joyfully. “Of course it’s fearfully dirty—”

“But the boys can clean it!” laughed Florence. “Isn’t that what you were thinking?”

“Yes, I guess it was,” admitted the other.

“But don’t you wish they had left us some pots and pans!” sighed Lily, surveying the empty closet in dismay.

“No, because they’d be terribly rusty,” replied Marjorie. “But I tell you what I do wish—that Doris were home to help us. She could give us so many suggestions—and tell us about prices.”

“I can tell you that much!” remarked Florence. “They’re out of sight!”

“You’re always so optimistic, Flos!” said Alice.

The girls stepped out on the back porch for a minute, and then, returning through the hall, took a peep at the cellar. But it appeared dark and forbidding.

“That must be where the ghost lives!” remarked Marie Louise, with a shudder. “Don’t let’s go down!”

“Just as you say!” laughed Marjorie. “Now for the upstairs.”

After a brief inspection of the second floor they returned to Mrs. Hadley who was waiting for them on the porch, with her notebook in hand. They all grouped themselves about her on the steps.

“Do you like it?” she asked, smiling into their enthusiastic faces.

“Adore it!” cried Marjorie, feeling that no words could be too superlative. “And when it gets fixed up—”

“Well, that is what we’re here for!” replied Mrs. Hadley. “Now let’s get down to business. First of all, I think you ought to elect a treasurer—”

“Oh, we wouldn’t consider anybody but Marj!” interrupted Lily. “Isn’t that so, girls?”

“It certainly is!” shouted two or three at the same time.

“Then that’s settled,” said the older woman. “I do hope you dispose of everything as quickly.”

“We will!” returned Alice. “Just watch us!”

“Well, I have jotted down the things to be considered, and I thought we might give one responsibility to each girl—and vote her so much money. The biggest job of course is furnishing—and dishes; then there is decoration—menus, and sign, and so forth; then hiring a cook and getting the gas and electricity turned on; then advertising; and finally, buying the food and supplies. Can anybody think of anything else?”

“I certainly think you have covered everything,” said Marjorie, admiringly. “Now—do you think five hundred dollars will be enough?”

Mrs. Hadley did not answer immediately, and the girls waited nervously for her opinion.

“It will have to be,” she said. “In fact, four hundred will have to be enough, because you ought to keep a hundred in bank, to run on.”

“But everything is so dreadfully expensive!” Florence reminded them again.

“How many rooms do you plan to furnish?” asked Mrs. Hadley.

“The porch and dining-room with tables and chairs, and the rest-room with wicker furniture and grass rugs,” said Marjorie.

“And that,” observed Ethel, “could use up the four hundred alone!”

“Oh, no!” objected Marjorie. “Surely not! We’ll shop around.”

“A good shingle is expensive, too,” observed Mrs. Hadley. “At least, if it is painted to order.”

“I think I could do that!” offered Marie Louise, shyly. “Provided one of the boys would cut out the wood for me.”

“John will,” said Marjorie. “He loves to do work like that.”

“And you could paint the menu cards, too, couldn’t you?” asked Ethel. “It’s wonderful to have an artist in the crowd, isn’t it?”

They talked for awhile longer, apportioning the duties and the money, but deciding to do nothing about making purchases until Monday morning; for, as Mrs. Hadley reminded them, Saturday was an unsatisfactory day to shop. She herself promised to interview a cook—a girl named Anna Benton—that afternoon; for she wanted to secure her immediately before someone else captured her. And, as she assured them, this girl was just the person they wanted.

They found plenty to do over the week-end, and enjoyed some delightful rides in both Lily’s and John’s machines, but Marjorie was glad when Monday morning came, that she might go into her work in earnest. She and Ethel had been delegated to purchase the furniture, and for this purpose had been assigned the sum of two hundred dollars. It seemed like a fortune to Marjorie.

“It would be nice if we didn’t have to use it all,” remarked Marjorie, as they entered one of the large department stores; “so that we could save some for flowers. I love to see them in a tea-room.”

“Yes, so do I,” agreed Ethel. “And the boys promised to take care of the garden if we get it started.”

“What’s the idea for the tea-room furniture?” asked Marjorie.

“Oh, painted, of course! Some light color—with flower decorations, if possible.”

“It would be nice if we could get pansies,” remarked Marjorie. “Especially since it’s to be called ‘Pansy Tea-Room,’ and Marie Louise is using them on her shingle and her menu cards.”

The girls went happily in search of the furniture department, and, upon locating it, stepped confidently up to a salesman. He showed them charming little breakfast sets of cream, and gray, and canary, decorated with dainty bouquets and flower baskets; and both girls exclaimed in delight. Marjorie was in the act of counting up how many sets they would need, when Ethel casually asked the price. To her utter dismay they heard that one set alone would cost more than they had planned to spend upon the entire furnishings.

“I am afraid it is too expensive,” Marjorie murmured in confusion to the clerk. “We—shall have to look elsewhere.”

When they turned away she was almost in tears.

“Don’t worry, Marj!” said Ethel, reassuringly. “This is one of the most expensive shops in town. We’ll try some place cheaper.”

But though they went from place to place, examining furniture of cheaper grade, they could not find anything to fit in with their pocket-book. At last, dismayed and dejected, they returned to the house. They found Marie Louise designing menu cards at the wicker table on the porch.

“Did you buy the stores out?” she asked, cheerily. “Because Lily and Florence did. I wish you’d see the stuff they brought home in Lily’s car from the five-and-ten-cent store!”

“No,” said Marjorie; “we didn’t buy a single thing!”

“Remarkable girls!” exclaimed Marie Louise. “I don’t know any other girls who could go shopping with two hundred dollars and not spend a cent!”

“We couldn’t find anything cheap enough!” sighed Ethel, dismally.

Marie Louise put down her pencil, and looked about the porch for a minute. Suddenly she was seized with an inspiration.

“I have it, girls!” she cried joyfully. “We didn’t go to an artist for our sign, and pay artists’ prices; we didn’t hire an expensive house-cleaning establishment to put our house in order; we’re not going to engage professional waitresses at big wages—we do all those things ourselves! Why not apply the same principle to the furniture?”

Marjorie regarded Marie Louise in utter amazement. Her suggestion did not sound sensible.

“But we can’t make furniture!” she protested.

“We can buy a cheap grade from a manufacturer, and finish and decorate it ourselves,” explained Marie Louise. “I know how to do it—we studied the method at school. And I’m sure our crew of boys would help in the evenings. As for the rest-room furniture, why not use this from the porch? Nobody would mind doing without it for the summer.”

“Wouldn’t your mother object to our using it?” asked Ethel.

“No, I’m sure she wouldn’t, for we could be careful. Now cheer up! We’ll get the boys on the telephone and have them come over to plan everything.”

Acting upon the suggestion of Marie Louise, they set out the next day to search for a furniture manufacturer. This time the artist went with Marjorie and Ethel. They were able to procure small round tables at eight dollars each, and good looking chairs at three dollars. They were plain, but substantially built, and had what Marie Louise called “good lines.” So they went home happy, having bought six tables and twenty-four chairs, and one extra oblong table, costing ten dollars, to be used as a serving-table.

“Now, Marie Louise,” said Marjorie, “it’s up to you to see that they get fixed up.”

“Don’t worry about that,” replied the other girl. “This is right in my line. I’m going to get more fun out of the old tea-house than I expected.”

“Well, we got more furniture than I ever thought we would,” said Ethel, “and we’ve spent only a hundred and thirty of the two hundred dollars. That’s seventy dollars to the good on this item, Marj.”

“The paint must come out of that yet,” reminded Marie Louise. “But that won’t cost much.”

The days that followed were even busier for the girls than they had anticipated. For the rest of the week the place reeked with the odor of the successive coats of paint which they applied to the furniture. Under the direction of Marie Louise, they finished it in a pale cream-colored enamel, and she decorated it with a charming pansy design. It was work they enjoyed doing; for they took great pride in seeing the bare, unfinished pieces being converted into furniture as beautiful as any they had seen in the shops.

Mrs. Hadley and Ethel made scrim curtains for the windows; and John, poking about one day in the cellar, found a full set of made-to-order screens for the doors and windows, which he freshened up with paint and put in place. He also procured two boards which he cut in the shape of tea-kettles, and which Marie Louise painted and decorated with a large pansy in the center of each, and lettered to read:

THE PANSY TEA-ROOM.

John planted two posts outside the hedge by each entrance of the drive and hung the signs in conspicuous positions.

By the time that the two weeks of preparation were up, the outside of the place presented the well-kept appearance of a beautiful home, and inside was cozy and charming. Both the girls and the boys had enjoyed the work, and were pleased with the results. Indeed, they felt sorry for Daisy Gravers, who arrived after everything was in readiness for the opening day.

The good news that she brought with her added another drop to their already brimming cup of happiness. Mrs. Trawle, the baby’s mother, was out of the hospital now, and able to take care of little Betty herself, though not yet strong enough to earn any money towards their support. And so the scouts faced their opening day with only one anxiety: the fear that the tea-room would not have the patronage they hoped for, that it would not warrant their expenditure of the four hundred dollars they had borrowed. But in this, as in all of their other undertakings, they lived up to the law that a Girl Scout is cheerful, and hoped for the best.