Brenda, Her School and Her Club, Page 2

  II

  JULIA'S ARRIVAL

  As the two girls went downstairs, Brenda politely urged Belle to goahead of her. She, herself, lingered a moment to look over thebalusters, and thus, when they reached the broad hall at the foot of thestairs, she was several steps behind her friend.

  Belle, with a quick eye, before she reached the bottom of the stairs,noticed a little group near the fireplace,--an elderly woman with ashawl over her arm, who looked like a maid; Mrs. Barlow, holding thehand of a slight girl in black, and last but not least, a large Irishsetter which lay at the young girl's feet. All this Belle had hardlytime to notice when the young girl rushed forward and throwing her armaround her neck, cried,

  "Oh, Cousin Brenda, I'm so glad to see you." Belle for a moment lookeddisconcerted, and Mrs. Barlow, without showing any surprise at Belle'spresence, relieved the latter by saying:

  "This isn't Brenda, Julia, but one of her friends."

  Julia, still with her hand in Belle's, smiled pleasantly.

  "I'm glad to see you," she said, and just at that moment Brenda came insight.

  Julia was hastening forward to greet her cousin as she had greeted herfriend, but something in Brenda's face forbade her. Brenda could not,perhaps, have explained why she felt so annoyed at Julia's mistake. Shewas not unduly vain, yet it annoyed her that her cousin had mistakenBelle for her. For well as she liked Belle, she knew that all the othergirls considered her not especially good-looking. Though she could not,probably would not, have put it into words, the thought flashed throughher brain that Julia was stupid to have made such a mistake. The thoughttook form in a rather repelling glance as her eye met her cousin's.

  "Come, Brenda, you should not make Julia go more than half-way to meetyou," called her mother from her place near the fire.

  "No'm," replied Brenda, hardly knowing what she said, for really shefelt a little shy about the new cousin, who was more than a year hersenior. "With her hand outstretched, she stepped toward Julia, movingwith the dignity that her lengthened skirt demanded.

  "Dear me! What can it be?" she thought, as she felt something hinderingher progress. It could not be that the skirt was _too_ long. She stoopeda little to raise it from beneath her feet, and then, how mortifying!she felt a string snap. She clutched wildly at her skirt with bothhands. But it was too late, and making the best of the situation, shestood before her cousin in her short ruffled petticoat, instead of herlong, grown-up gown.

  "There, Brenda," cried her mother, comprehending the situation at aglance, for this was not the first time that Brenda had tried tolengthen her skirts. "There, Brenda, I hope you won't be as foolish asthis again. Speak to your cousin, and then go up and put on your skirtproperly."

  Poor Brenda! What a loss of dignity! She hardly knew what she said toJulia, or what Julia said to her. She resented Belle's offer of help,for had she not heard a decided giggle from her friend at the moment ofthe catastrophe? So rushing to her room, she locked the door and did notleave it until called to dinner.

  Now Brenda, though by no means perfect, was not ill-natured, and sheseated herself at the table with the intention of making herselfagreeable to Julia.

  But there are times when nothing seems to go exactly right, and thisevening was one of them. In the first place it disturbed Brenda to seeher father's glance of amusement as his eye fell on her new style ofhair-dressing.

  "Which is it now?" he laughed, "Marie Antoinette or Queen Elizabeth?Dear me, Brenda, it's a long time since we've seen you masquerading inthis fashion."

  Brenda reddened. In spite of the mishap to her dress, she wished hercousin to believe that she always wore her hair on the top of her head.Vague hopes were floating through her mind that she could persuade hermother to let her give up her childish pigtail altogether.

  "Why does papa always say things like that?" and she reddened still moreas Julia's eyes fell on her. She remembered, however, her duties asassistant hostess.

  "Did you have a pleasant journey?" she asked politely.

  "Yes, indeed," answered Julia. "That is, I was just a little tired, butit was so delightful to look out of the car window and know that I wasreally in Massachusetts. It seemed too good to be true."

  Mr. Barlow looked pleased. "Ah, Julia, it gratifies me very much to haveyou say this. Sometimes when people have traveled they lose their lovefor their early home."

  "Yes, Uncle Robert, I've always loved to think of Boston as my realhome. Although it's so long since we lived here."

  "Why, what do you really remember of Boston?" asked Mr. Barlow.

  "Well, the State-House, Uncle Robert, and the Common--ofcourse--and--and Brenda."

  "Oh, you can't remember Brenda?"

  "Yes, indeed I can. She was the dearest little thing! You see when I wasfive years old, Brenda seemed almost a baby--a year and a half betweentwo girls makes a good deal of difference,--when they're little."

  But even this last saving clause did not prevent Brenda's heart fromgiving a sudden thump, especially as she caught a sympathetic glancefrom Belle which seemed to say,

  "Ah, she's reminding you how much older she is than you."

  Brenda straightened herself up. She tried to think of something to saythat would show that though younger, she at least had some knowledge ofthe world.

  "Can you eat raw oysters, Julia?" were the rather strange words thatcame to her lips. Julia, unable naturally to follow the train of thoughtleading to this question, answered brightly,

  "I've never tried. You see we don't have very good oysters in the West,and some way I've never thought I'd like them raw."

  "Oh, if you want to seem really grown-up you'll have to eat oysters offthe shell," said Mrs. Barlow. "I believe Brenda has practised so thatshe can eat them without wincing."

  Then Belle, who prided herself on her tact, hastened to change what sheknew might become a sore subject with Brenda.

  "Were there many people you knew on the train, Miss----"

  "Oh, please say Julia," broke in the young girl. "Every one always does.No, there wasn't any one I knew in the cars between here and Chicago. IfI had not had Eliza I should have been very lonely."

  Brenda had subsided into an unwonted silence. She was wondering how shecould excuse herself to her cousin--whether her mother would really makeher give up the tableaux for that evening. She heard, without reallylistening, an animated conversation between her father and Belle on thebest way of learning history. Belle believed that more could be learnedby general reading than by studying a text-book. "Belle always has somany theories," Brenda was in the habit of saying.

  "I wish Jane would hurry with the coffee," she cried.

  "Why, Brenda," and her mother looked surprised. "You are not going tohave coffee."

  "Of course, you know you always let me have a little cup when I'm goingout."

  "But you are not going anywhere to-night. Didn't you get my message?"

  Brenda understood well enough that her mother did not wish to discussthe question of her leaving her cousin when Julia herself was present,yet she persisted.

  "But, mamma----"

  Mrs. Barlow shook her head. "There is nothing to be said. You know,Brenda, when I mean a thing I mean it."

  Julia looked a trifle embarrassed, realizing that in some way she was ahindrance to a full discussion between her aunt and cousin.

  Brenda's face was twisted into a curious scowl. She was forgetting herduty to her cousin.

  "Oh, mamma, I've made up my mind to go."

  "No, Brenda, it is impossible. Let us hear no more about it."

  "What is it, Brenda, that you wish to do?" asked Mr. Barlow, who whiletalking with Belle had only half heard the conversation between Brendaand her mother.

  Mrs. Barlow shook her head. She did not care to enter into a discussionbefore Julia likely to make the young girl feel that her arrival hadinterfered with any plan of Brenda's.

  Then Belle, who realized that she was not always in favor with Mrs.Barlow, saw her opportunity.


  "If Brenda will change with me, she can have my ticket for to-morrowevening."

  "Why, that is very kind in you, Belle, but have you time to get ready?"

  "Oh, yes, if you'll excuse me now," and before Brenda could remonstrate,she saw Belle receive the tickets from Mrs. Barlow's hands and heard herhasty words of good-bye as she started home under the escort of Thomas.

  Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Barlow took any notice of the cloud on Brenda'sface. Fortunately they could not read her reflections on the duplicityof Belle, who after pitying her so in the afternoon, had now begun toside against her. This at least was the form which Brenda's thoughtstook. Rightly or wrongly she considered herself an ill-used youngperson.

  Just then the maid entered with a letter on a salver. Mrs. Barlowglanced at it and then laughed.

  "This explains the mystery, Julia, you wrote 'New York' instead of'Boston,' and so your letter has been two days longer than it shouldhave been in reaching us."

  "Oh, did I, Aunt Anna? How stupid! Well, you have treated me much betterthan my carelessness deserved."

  "Well, I'm only glad that I happened to be at home when your telegramcame. It would have been a little cheerless for you had you happened toarrive when we were all out. But come, you must be tired."

  "Oh, not very." Then, as they left the room, Julia threw her arm aroundBrenda.

  "I know that we shall be great friends."

  Already Brenda had begun to return to herself. She hoped that Julia hadnot noticed her ill-temper. Perhaps after all she should like this newcousin better than she had expected.

  "If I were you, Brenda, I'd take Julia to her room now," said Mrs.Barlow.

  "How lovely!" exclaimed Julia, as they entered the pretty bedroom nearthe studio. "Am I to have this all to myself?"

  "Yes," replied Brenda.

  "I never saw so pretty a room! How I _shall_ enjoy it! Whose used it tobe?"

  "Oh, it was Agnes's room. She had it decorated to suit her ideas. Youknow she's an artist."

  "Oh, yes. How delightful to be an artist. I wish that I had some specialtalent."

  "I thought you had. Some one, mamma I think, said that you weremusical."

  "So I am in a way. I've given more time to music than to anything else.But that was chiefly to please papa."

  Here Julia sighed, while Brenda hardly knew what to say.

  "You must miss him very much," she ventured.

  "Oh, don't speak of it, Brenda. I can't bear to think that he is reallygone." And Julia's tears began to fall.

  "What shall I say?" thought Brenda, and as her words of sympathy werebeginning to take shape, her mother entered the room. Wisely enough, shemade no comment on Julia's tears, believing that they would flow lessfreely if she seemed to take no notice of them.

  "I have come to see if you are perfectly comfortable. To-night Elizawill sleep on the lounge in your room, and after this we will arrange abed for her in the room across the hall. In either case you will notfeel lonely."

  When Julia had thanked her aunt for her kindness, Mrs. Barlow drewBrenda one side.

  "Now, Brenda, we must bid your cousin good-night," and then, with afinal word or two of advice to Julia, Mrs. Barlow with Brenda left theroom.

  "I'm going to bed now, mamma," said Brenda, as they reached the hall.

  "Very well, I haven't time myself to tell you that I think you havebehaved very foolishly this evening. I hope you will be more sensibleto-morrow."

  "Good-night," cried Brenda, without making any promises.

  When she was within her own room she flung herself down on her bed.

  "I know just how it will be," she said to herself. "I can never do whatI want to. It will always be 'Julia, Julia.' She isn't so bad herself,but it's the way every one will treat me that I hate."

  With these confused words on her lips she began to get ready for bed.