e twenty-five _chambres_, counting great with small, and
with haste two beds are being installed in some. Each person, if you
will believe me, is forced to pay at the least thirty dollars (a hundred
and fifty francs) a day. It is crushing! I have thought no one would
come. But they do already, though we are not yet in a state of
reception. The first day when the announcement showed in the journals of
New York and all other grand cities the rush began. That same night we
had what Molly Winston calls sholes (or is it shoals?) of telegrams. I
thought shoals were of fish only. I will copy a little of the _avis au
public_. _Le voila!_

"Monsieur Marcel Moncourt has the honour to announce that from April 1st
the historic mansion of Kidd's Pines, near Huntersford, Long Island,
will open under his direction as a hotel de luxe."

There was quite a lot more, explaining how Lafayette and Jerome
Bonaparte, and King Edward VII when Prince of Wales had been entertained
by ancestors of the present owner, Mr. Laurence Moore, who would now act
as host; and that there were baths to all but five of the bed chambers.
Was it not good chance that Larry had them put in? They are not paid for
yet, and the plumber, with some others, has been very unkind, making
Larry a bankroot--no, a bankrupt. We shall soon be rich again with all
these thirties and forties and fifties and hundreds of dollars a day (we
can take forty people to say nothing of servants if some of them will
sleep _ensemble_), and then we can pay every one. _Aussi_ the
announcement spoke of the pines which have given to our place its name.
There was a pirate captain named Kidd who buried gold under these trees
or near, and though each of our generations since has dug hard whenever
it felt poor, nobody has ever found anything, so the treasure is still
there--wherever it is. Larry wanted to advertise that all might dig,
male or female. Monsieur Moncourt would not permit, however. He said his
name was enough, and further advertising would waste the money of the
_syndicat_. He is part of the _syndicat_, and has more in it than the
others. He would not come if it could not be that way, Mr. Storm told
Larry. Mr. Storm has a friend who is a friend of Monsieur Moncourt's, a
great friend he must be, because Monsieur M. will do anything to please
him. Monsieur M. takes his salary of manager in shares. Mr. Storm does
not have shares, because he, too, like us, is poor as mice who go to
church