amused themselves by singing and dancing as they waited.
18
B ACK IN B USINESS
A LTHOUGH THEY HADN’T talked it over ahead of time, somehow everyone knew what to do.
Emma checked in the guests, one after another, and Masterman made sure that the guests who had not been checked in yet were seated comfortably in the Lobby. Winston carried all the bags and trunks and showed people to their rooms. Mrs. Beet went down to the Kitchens, of course, and got to work cooking for everybody. Captain Doubloon sidled into the Bar and mixed a big bowl of punch for the guests.
When at last everyone had been checked in, Emma looked in astonishment at the cash box, which now overflowed with strange loot. Besides the emeralds, there were gold and silver coins stamped with pictures of turbaned kings, bottles of rare perfumes, black pearls, filigree chains, bangles set with rubies, a sapphire the size of a tennis ball, and a vial of something pink that was supposed to cure melancholia.
Emma beckoned to Masterman to come see. “I guess you don’t have to feel bad about Captain Doubloon getting your old treasure,” she told him. “Look at all this new stuff! I think we’re going to be all right now.”
“Of course we are!” said Masterman smugly, rolling up his sleeves. “This is the Grand Wenlocke, after all. We’re all rich as kings now. We can lie around on silk pillows and have servants bring us chocolate!”
“Er—with respect, Master Masterman, we’re going to have to work a lot harder than that,” said Winston, as he came down the Grand Staircase. “Your great-grandfather knew that running a first-class hotel takes a lot of effort. Who’s going to wait on the guests in the Dining Room? Who’s going to make their beds and keep the floors swept?”
“You are,” said Masterman, looking very surprised even to be asked the question.
Winston shook his head. “I’m in Heaven, so I don’t get tired, and I can work all day and all night long. But there’s only one of me, you see? And I can’t be in two places at once, let alone twenty. Besides me, Mr. Wenlocke had a staff of ten chambermaids and ten bellboys. And there was a man to serve drinks in the Bar, and there were three kitchen-maids to help poor Mrs. Beet. What are we to do?”
“I know how to make beds,” said Emma.
“Good! Then you can be the chambermaid as well as the desk clerk,” said Masterman.
“Not all by myself, I won’t,” said Emma hotly. “You’ll have to help me. Two people can make a bed much faster than one.”
“But I’m a Wenlocke!” Masterman exclaimed.
“A gentleman would help a lady, sir,” said Winston. “And all the Wenlockes were gentlemen, you know. Except for the girls.”
“Haar! I’ll bet the little lubber don’t know how to make a bed, nohow,” said Captain Doubloon, stumping in from the Bar.
“That’s not true!” cried Masterman. “At the horrible old Academy, I had to make my bed as neat and tight as an empty envelope. I’ll show
you!
I bet I can make beds ten times better than a sloppy old sailor.”
“Sailors ain’t sloppy,” said Captain Doubloon. “Sailors is very clean. We keeps everything shipshape!”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said Winston. “Because we need someone to do the laundry, and I’m sure you’d be better than anybody else.”
“I’ll bet he doesn’t know how to wash clothes,” said Masterman, not very nicely.
“Why, you little—of course I can wash clothes!” blustered Captain Doubloon. “Show me that laundry, by thunder, and you’ll have the cleanest bed linens you ever seen!”
“Good!” said Winston happily. “That’s settled, then.”
So three days went by, or so it seemed—time stretched out so strangely in the Grand Wenlocke that Emma was never sure. If the weather was nice, the morning sunlight seemed to take forever to trickle across the Lobby, and the bright noon light filled up the long halls like slow flood water, while the gold and purple
18
B ACK IN B USINESS
A LTHOUGH THEY HADN’T talked it over ahead of time, somehow everyone knew what to do.
Emma checked in the guests, one after another, and Masterman made sure that the guests who had not been checked in yet were seated comfortably in the Lobby. Winston carried all the bags and trunks and showed people to their rooms. Mrs. Beet went down to the Kitchens, of course, and got to work cooking for everybody. Captain Doubloon sidled into the Bar and mixed a big bowl of punch for the guests.
When at last everyone had been checked in, Emma looked in astonishment at the cash box, which now overflowed with strange loot. Besides the emeralds, there were gold and silver coins stamped with pictures of turbaned kings, bottles of rare perfumes, black pearls, filigree chains, bangles set with rubies, a sapphire the size of a tennis ball, and a vial of something pink that was supposed to cure melancholia.
Emma beckoned to Masterman to come see. “I guess you don’t have to feel bad about Captain Doubloon getting your old treasure,” she told him. “Look at all this new stuff! I think we’re going to be all right now.”
“Of course we are!” said Masterman smugly, rolling up his sleeves. “This is the Grand Wenlocke, after all. We’re all rich as kings now. We can lie around on silk pillows and have servants bring us chocolate!”
“Er—with respect, Master Masterman, we’re going to have to work a lot harder than that,” said Winston, as he came down the Grand Staircase. “Your great-grandfather knew that running a first-class hotel takes a lot of effort. Who’s going to wait on the guests in the Dining Room? Who’s going to make their beds and keep the floors swept?”
“You are,” said Masterman, looking very surprised even to be asked the question.
Winston shook his head. “I’m in Heaven, so I don’t get tired, and I can work all day and all night long. But there’s only one of me, you see? And I can’t be in two places at once, let alone twenty. Besides me, Mr. Wenlocke had a staff of ten chambermaids and ten bellboys. And there was a man to serve drinks in the Bar, and there were three kitchen-maids to help poor Mrs. Beet. What are we to do?”
“I know how to make beds,” said Emma.
“Good! Then you can be the chambermaid as well as the desk clerk,” said Masterman.
“Not all by myself, I won’t,” said Emma hotly. “You’ll have to help me. Two people can make a bed much faster than one.”
“But I’m a Wenlocke!” Masterman exclaimed.
“A gentleman would help a lady, sir,” said Winston. “And all the Wenlockes were gentlemen, you know. Except for the girls.”
“Haar! I’ll bet the little lubber don’t know how to make a bed, nohow,” said Captain Doubloon, stumping in from the Bar.
“That’s not true!” cried Masterman. “At the horrible old Academy, I had to make my bed as neat and tight as an empty envelope. I’ll show
you!
I bet I can make beds ten times better than a sloppy old sailor.”
“Sailors ain’t sloppy,” said Captain Doubloon. “Sailors is very clean. We keeps everything shipshape!”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said Winston. “Because we need someone to do the laundry, and I’m sure you’d be better than anybody else.”
“I’ll bet he doesn’t know how to wash clothes,” said Masterman, not very nicely.
“Why, you little—of course I can wash clothes!” blustered Captain Doubloon. “Show me that laundry, by thunder, and you’ll have the cleanest bed linens you ever seen!”
“Good!” said Winston happily. “That’s settled, then.”
So three days went by, or so it seemed—time stretched out so strangely in the Grand Wenlocke that Emma was never sure. If the weather was nice, the morning sunlight seemed to take forever to trickle across the Lobby, and the bright noon light filled up the long halls like slow flood water, while the gold and purple
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