The Camp Fire Girls by the Blue Lagoon, Page 2

  *CHAPTER II*

  *THE GENERATIONS*

  At ten o'clock the next morning Bettina and Mrs. Burton were in hersmall sitting-room with the door closed.

  The room was characteristic of its owner--filled with warm, soft colorsin shades of rose and blue, a few beautiful pieces of furniture, a fewphotographs, two exquisite paintings on the wall.

  In a large chair before the fire, with a small table drawn up besideher, Mrs. Burton had just finished breakfast and was reading her mail,while Bettina wandered about examining the rosewood desk, the pictures,dipping her nose into a blue bowl filled with violets which had arrivednot a quarter of an hour before and which Bettina herself had arranged.

  "I have a letter from your mother, Princess; she is not writing fromWashington and has not yet heard you are with me. However, she says shewishes that we could have a talk together," Mrs. Burton remarked,dropping into the fanciful title the Camp Fire girls had bestowed uponBettina Graham years before, and which they now only used occasionally.

  "Come and make your confession, dear, for besides being by naturecurious I can't help being troubled. Surely, Bettina, you have not beenfalling in love with some one whom your mother does not approve! If so,I am going to be equally difficult. When I became your Camp Fireguardian long ago, and you were all small girls, I never considered theresponsibilities that your growing up would thrust upon me, and haveoften thought of resigning the honor since."

  Bettina came and stood before the fire with her hands clasped in frontof her and looking down at the older woman, who was gazing up at herhalf smiling and half frowning.

  "I don't see what especial difference your resigning as our Camp Fireguardian would make, Tante. We would all continue to come to you withour problems and you would be wounded and offended should we choose anyone else. It is true most of us are growing rather old for the CampFire, and yet it has become so important a part of our lives no one ofus would dream of giving it up. By the way, you are looking wonderfullywell, as if your work were agreeing with you better than I thoughtpossible."

  "Yes, I am well, thank you. Is it so difficult to confide what you cameto New York to tell me? I don't like to think of your search for meyesterday and the possibility that you might not have found me. WhenCaptain Burton, believing I was seeing too many people, left the orderat the hotel I was afraid that some one might come seeking me whom Ishould regret missing. Won't you sit down?"

  Bettina shook her head.

  "No, I would rather not. Somehow it is harder to begin my story than Idreamed! You see, I want so much to have you feel as I do about what Iam going to tell you, since it means my whole life, and yet I amdreadfully afraid you won't. As you know, mother and I have disagreedabout many small matters since I was a little girl. I was obstinate, Isuppose, and she never has wholly recovered from her disappointment thatI am so unlike her in my disposition and tastes. In the past father andI have seemed to understand each other, until now when he too is not insympathy with me. Oh, I realize I am coming to my point slowly, but youmust let me try and tell you in my own fashion. You care so much formother I fear your affection for her may prejudice you against me."

  "Isn't that a strange speech, Bettina, as if I did not care for you aswell, and as if there could be any division of interest between yourmother and you?"

  The Camp Fire guardian spoke slowly, studying Bettina closely. Morethan she realized, in the past six months Bettina had changed; shelooked older and more serious and did not appear in especially goodhealth. She had grown thinner. Under her eyes were shadows and abouther lips discontented lines.

  With the first suggestion of criticism her manner had altered.

  Years before when Bettina was much younger, during the first months asSunrise Camp Fire guardian, Mrs. Burton had not understood Bettina'sreserve, the little coldness which made her apparently express lessaffection than the other girls. Later, when this proved to be moreshyness than coldness, she had come to believe that, although Bettinadid not care for many persons, her affections were deep and abiding andthat between them lay a friendship as strong as was possible between agirl and a so much older woman.

  "Yes, Bettina has altered more than I dreamed," she reflected.

  "I am sorry to hear you say, Tante, that mother and I cannot have aninterest apart, because that is exactly what has occurred," Bettinaannounced. "We have differed, we do still differ upon a question ofsuch importance that I doubt if our old relation can ever be exactly thesame. Of course I care for mother as much as I ever cared, although shedeclines to believe it. She already has said that her affection for meis not the same."

  "Nonsense, Bettina," Mrs. Burton answered. "Please tell me what youmean more clearly and be prepared to have me frank with you. If youfeel you will be angry unless I agree with you, my opinion will not beof value."

  "Oh, I am accustomed to everybody's being frank in their disapproval ofme whenever they hear what I wish to do. I do not expect you to agreewith me, Tante, but I did hope you would listen to my side of thequestion and not think me altogether selfish and inconsiderate, which isthe family point of view at present."

  In Bettina's manner there was a subtle change, her tone lessself-assured, her expression showing more appeal and less challenge.

  In the same instant Mrs. Burton appreciated that to fail Bettina now wasto fail Bettina's mother as well, even to end the long friendship uponwhich they both depended. Beneath Bettina's assumption of hardness andwilfulness, she was sincerely troubled. Moreover, she was facing somedecision vital to her future.

  "Come and sit down beside me, dear, you look so tall and old toweringabove me. And suppose we do not presume in the beginning that we aregoing to misunderstand each other. You want to confide in me and I amglad you do; now go on and I shall not interrupt."

  At the change in her Camp Fire guardian's manner, Bettina's facesoftened, she seemed younger and gentler. Sitting down on a low chairshe leaned forward, placing her clasped hands in the older woman's lapand gazing directly at her with eyes that were clear and gallant, evenif they were a little obstinate and cold.

  Mrs. Burton experienced a sensation of relief. In Bettina's oppositionto her mother there could be nothing seriously wrong.

  She began to speak at once:

  "Perhaps my confession is not so dreadful as you fear, Tante. Theunfortunate thing is that mother and I cannot seem to agree and that wehave argued the question so many times until of late we have not onlyargued but quarreled. Well, I shall begin at the beginning! When wesaid good-by to one another at Tahawus cabin,[*] I remained at home inWashington for only a few weeks and then mother and I opened our summerhouse. We both wrote you that she and father and Tony and MargueriteArnot and I spent several perfect months together motoring and sailingand swimming with one another and with the people who came to see us.David Hale came now and then, and Tony's college friends, besidesWashington friends and Sally and Alice Ashton for a few days. There wasonly one small difficulty. I became intimate with an older woman whowas boarding not far away. Mother did not consider her particularlydesirable. She was polite to her as she is to most people and did notreally object to Miss Merton until she began to feel that she was havingmore influence over me than she liked. Miss Merton is a settlementworker and used to tell me of her life and the people she is thrown withand the help she is able to give them. I found the account of her workvery fascinating, until mother began to feel I was neglecting my familyand preferring Miss Merton's society. This was not true; I did not careso much for Miss Merton herself, although I do admire her. It was herexperiences among the poor which interested me so keenly; the clubs andclasses and the nursing and the effort to teach our immigrants more ofthe spirit and opportunities of the United States."

  [*] See "Camp Fire Girls at Half Moon Lake".

  "Yes, I know, my dear, social settlement work is not a new discovery.Was it to you? What in the world can this have to d
o with you? Surelyyour mother did not oppose your friendship with this Miss Merton to suchan extent that you have made a tragedy of it!"

  "No, of course not. What happened was just this. I became sointerested in social settlement work that I have decided it is the workto which I wish to devote my life. I thought over the question forweeks and then I spoke to mother. I told her that I could not possiblydo what she desired for me and make my debut in Washington society thiswinter. The very idea makes me wretched! I assured her she could notrealize what an utter waste of time a society life appears to me.Besides, I am not in any way fitted for it. I asked her to allow me tospend this winter studying social settlement work. Then if I found Icould be useful I would choose it as my life work. You know I neverhave felt that I wished to marry and for the last two years, when wewere not busy with the reconstruction work in France I have been morerestless than any one realized. I must find my own road, yet I did notknow in what direction it lay."

  "Yes, well, go on, Bettina," Mrs. Burton urged, smiling a littleinwardly and yet conscious of Bettina's immense seriousness, which madeher egotism pardonable.

  "Well, mother at first simply declined to pay any attention to what Itold her. Afterwards when she began to see that I was in earnest shedeclined to have me mention the subject to her again. She announcedthat her plans were made; I was to make my debut early in October and tospend the winter at home. She declared that social settlement workshould be left to older people and to girls who had fewer opportunities.She said other things of course, but the important fact is that sherefuses to permit me the choice of my own life. Because she cares forsociety and people and being beautiful and admired is no reason why Ishould care for the same things. If I were older I should do as I like.Miss Merton has charge of a settlement house on the east side in NewYork and would take me in to live with her."

  Bettina put up her hands to her flushed cheeks.

  "I suppose this sounds as if I did not care in the least for what motherwishes, and yet I do. I am sorry to disappoint her; I wish I had beenwhat she desired. Yet I cannot for that reason change my own nature andmy own inclinations. Do please say something, Tante; it is not like youto remain silent so long."

  "I did not wish to interrupt you and I am feeling sorry for Betty."

  "Sorry for mother? Of course I expected you would be; everybody issorry for her. They always have been sorry that she should have adaughter who has neither her beauty, nor charm, nor sweetness; the factthat I am a failure in society and wish to lead my own life is only onething more. You need not for a moment suppose that the sympathy is notall with mother. I regret having troubled you. I thought when you werea girl your family and friends were bitterly opposed to your going onthe stage and that regardless of them you did the thing you wished. Butyou are a genius and have proved your right to do as you like. Iunderstand that makes all the difference in the world. It evenjustifies sacrificing other people."

  Hurt and angry, and not sure of her own position, Bettina felt thecommon impulse to strike at some one else. The moment after her finalspeech she was sorry to have made it.

  "Have I sacrificed other people to have my own way, Bettina? I wonder?If you mean that I returned to the stage in opposition to AuntPatricia's wish, it is true," Mrs. Burton answered.

  "You would not have referred to this had you known how unhappy it hasmade me. Since we parted at Tahawus cabin Aunt Patricia has neverspoken to me or answered one of my letters. She has not allowed me tosee her, although I have been twice to Boston for no other purpose.Yet, Bettina, are the circumstances the same? I do not wish to hurt AuntPatricia, but I am not a girl by many years, and I chose my professionlong ago. I explained that my husband and I needed the money I am ableto make and could not continue to accept Aunt Patricia's generosity.She has no real objection to my return to the stage except the mistakennotion that I'm not strong enough and the fact that she cannot allow meto do what her will opposes. Dear Aunt Patricia is nothing, if not anautocrat! Still there are hours when I miss her so much, when it hurtsto have her believe me ungrateful, until I almost regret what I havedone, pleased as I am at the success of my new play. I often wish I hadtried more persuasion with Aunt Patricia. But, Bettina, I never claimedto be a model person, and as you seem to feel I have no right to judgeyou, suppose we do not discuss your difficulty."

  Flushing Bettina bit her lips and lowered her lids over her grey eyes.

  "I don't wonder you say that, Tante, and I deserve it. To be rude toyou does not help my cause, does it? Certainly it would not withmother. Besides you know I thoroughly approved of your return to thestage and think Aunt Patricia utterly unreasonable. There isn't anylikeness between my position and yours in this instance. What I wantyou to do is to try and think how you felt when you were a girl and allyour family and friends opposed your going on the stage. Didn't theytell you that you were selfish and unreasonable and breaking people'shearts from sheer obstinacy? I don't wish to be disagreeable, I have nogreat talent as you have, I just want you to try to feel a littlesympathy for me, even if you feel more for mother."

  The Camp Fire guardian smiled and shook her head, yet laid her hand onBettina's.

  "My dear, you are making a more difficult request than you realize. Itis so hard to go back to one's past that most of us only understand ourown generation. You Camp Fire girls should have taught me more wisdom!Of course I sympathize with you if you are unhappy, Bettina, and feelyourself in the wrong place, yet I am sorrier for your mother, becauseyou cannot possibly realize how much you are hurting her. She never hasbelieved you cared for her deeply and now that you are not willing tospend even one season with her in doing what she wishes, she is the morefirmly convinced that you have no affection for her. You talk a greatdeal of not having your mother's beauty and charm; well, perhaps not inthe same degree; but Betty, I know, is very proud of you and thinks youare infinitely cleverer than she and that you feel this yourself."

  "Tante, you are not fair," Bettina interrupted.

  "Then perhaps you would rather I would not go on."

  "Yes, I want to know what you think, only what you have said is absurd.Mother never has been proud of me, although this is scarcely her fault.She agrees with me that I am not a success in society, only she insiststhat this is because I won't try to make myself popular."

  "Do you try?"

  "Well, no, not especially, but why should I? If I were allowed to dowhat I like, to give all my energy and the little knowledge I possess tohelp people less fortunate than I am, I should try as I have never triedto accomplish anything in my life."

  "You are not willing to make any effort to fulfill your mother's wish.Suppose we do not discuss the subject, Bettina, any further at present.We are both tired. I telegraphed your mother last night and am writingto-day to ask if you may make me a visit."

  There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Burton arose.

  "I told you I did not wish to be disturbed," she protested when the dooropened and another girl entered.

  This girl possessed an apparently colorless manner and personality, shehad ash-brown hair and eyes and the question of her appearance wouldscarcely occur to any one who knew her but slightly. Juliet Temple wasnot a member of the Sunrise Camp Fire. She had been introduced to theCamp Fire guardian and the group of girls by Mrs. Burton's husbandduring the winter they had spent together in the Adirondacks.

  Not popular with the rest of the household, Juliet Temple had continuedto live with Mrs. Burton in a position a little difficult to describe.Treated as a member of the family, she was useful to Mrs. Burton in avariety of ways, in fact she had come to depend upon her far more thanshe appreciated.

  "Yes, I understood that you did not desire to be disturbed, but I thinkwhen you know who wishes to see you that you will feel differently,"Juliet said quietly.

  Accepting the cards that were offered her, Mrs. Burton exclaimed:

  "Bettina, you cannot guess who has arrived, unless you have arranged tosu
rprise me! Not to have seen one of you Camp Fire girls in all thesemonths and now to have four of you appear at the same time scarcelyseems accidental."

  Bettina got up.

  "I don't know what you mean!"

  The Camp Fire guardian disappeared.

  A moment later, returning to her sitting-room she was accompanied bythree girls, one of them a tall girl with dusky black hair and eyes anda foreign appearance in spite of the fact that she was an American.

  The other two girls were sisters, although utterly unlike in appearance;one of them was tall and slightly angular with gray eyes and reddishhair. The younger girl had golden brown hair and eyes, was small andsoftly rounded. Her expression at the moment was one of demurehappiness.

  "Vera Lagerloff, Alice Ashton and Sally Ashton, at your service,Bettina," the Sunrise Camp Fire guardian announced with a curtsey.

  "But, Bettina Graham, how in the world do you happen to be in New Yorkat this time?"

  Bettina laughed.

  "That is exactly the question I was about to ask of you."