Brenda's Bargain: A Story for Girls

by Oliver Optic

  X

  ARTHUR'S ABSENCE

  When Arthur wrote that he should be away Christmas, Brenda seemedundisturbed, although Ralph and Agnes were annoyed by his absence.

  "But he has been in Washington less than a month, and probably he wishesto stay over New Year's. We'll keep his Christmas presents until hereturns."

  Ralph and Agnes exchanged a glance.

  "Hasn't he written you?"

  "Why, yes--but what?"

  Then Ralph explained that Arthur had had an offer to be privatesecretary to a certain senator, and that this would keep him inWashington all winter. "I received my letter only last night," Ralphhastened to add, lest Brenda should feel slighted. Brenda's own letterarrived that very day, but as it was second to Ralph's she read it in novery gracious spirit.

  Then, too, Arthur seemed to take it too much a matter of course that shewould praise his remaining in Washington. Brenda, forgetting that sheherself had really reproached him for his idleness in Boston, began tocomplain to her mother of his lack of dignity in taking the position ofprivate secretary.

  "My dear," Mrs. Barlow had responded, "I am glad to hear that Arthur isbusy. As there is no likelihood of his practising law, it is much betterfor him to have his mind occupied. It would be bad for you both were heto spend the winter in Boston with nothing to do but walk or drive or goto dinners and dances."

  "But he isn't very strong, Mamma."

  "Perhaps not; on that account the climate of Washington will be betterfor him. We have the assurance, however, that his health will becompletely built up in a year, and your father has plans for him. It isno secret, so I may tell you that a new branch of the business is to beestablished next winter, and it is of such a nature that Arthur'sknowledge of law will be valuable, and he will be put in charge of theoffice work."

  "Does Arthur know?"

  "Yes."

  "Then I cannot see why he need be busy this winter. I believe that he isjust staying in Washington to annoy me."

  "Nonsense, Brenda!"

  But Brenda would not listen to her mother, and it is to be feared thather letters reflected her impatience, for Arthur's letters came at longintervals. Although she did not hear from him directly, she knew fromRalph and Agnes that he was well, and from another source she oftenheard about him.

  Although Brenda and Belle saw much less of each other than formerly, orperhaps because of this, they kept up a vigorous correspondence. AfterChristmas Belle and her mother had gone to Washington, and in her veryfirst letter she mentioned having met Arthur Weston at a certainreception; "And I can assure you, that, in spite of being cut off fromBoston, he looks very cheerful."

  After this Belle never failed to mention Arthur in her letters toBrenda. She told what a great favorite he was with this one or that one."He is an immense favorite, and I almost ought to warn you that he isreally too happy in the society of other people."

  Poor Brenda! All she could do was to write glowing letters to Belle,telling her that she herself had never known so pleasant a winter inBoston. She left Belle to infer that she was enjoying herself even morethan would have been possible had Arthur been nearer. If the truth weretold, Brenda amused herself rather sadly. Society wearied her, but shehad not strength of mind to give it up altogether. To the delight,however, of Maggie McSorley, she went more often to the Mansion, andeven condescended to give the girls some lessons in embroidery. Sinceher earlier school-days Brenda's skill in needlework had developedwonderfully, and she could work very beautiful patterns on doilies andcentrepieces.

  But to design and fill out these patterns was one thing, and to impartany of her own skill was another. The latter required infinite patienceon Brenda's part, and Brenda had never been noted for her patience. Yetthe discipline was better for her even than for the younger girls as sheguided their needles and watched them take the right stitches, andhelped the careless Maggie pull out the threads where she had drawn themtoo tight, puckering the linen web, and, alas! too often soiling ithopelessly.

  It was good discipline for Brenda, because strangely enough she foundherself more inclined to blame than to praise, and she could not helpnoticing how much defter and neater than all the others were the fingersof Concetta. Indeed, the latter did not really need the instruction. Shehad already, like many little Italian girls, served an apprenticeship inembroidery under her aunt. She did not intend to deceive any one injoining Brenda's class, but she could not bear the idea that she, amongall the girls, should be deprived of the chance to be near the charmingyoung lady, as she called Brenda, simply because she knew more than theothers; so she too puckered her thread, and made occasional mistakes infear lest perfection on her part should lead to her being excluded fromthe class.

  Amy called herself a detached member of the Mansion staff. She could notgive much time to assisting Miss South and Julia without neglecting hercollege work. But there were certain things that she could do in herleisure, and occasional spare hours she gave with great good-will to aclass in literature. Amy was still devoted to her early love, "The FaeryQueen," and once in a while, like Mr. Wegg, of fragrant memory, shedropped into poetry herself. She was winning her laurels in college,however, for more serious work than poetry--more serious, that is, inthe eyes of the world; and already she was famous among her classmatesfor her literary ability.

  Indirectly she had been the means of Haleema's going to the Mansion. Ithad happened in this way: during her first year in college she had goneonce a week to play accompaniments at a College Settlement. In thechorus, for which she played, Haleema had been one of the mostvociferous singers, and although Amy had not been able to see her muchoutside of the class, she had become much interested in the little girl,and had received one or two letters from her during the summer. WhatHaleema herself wrote, and what the head worker at the Settlement toldher about Haleema's home life, convinced her that the little Syrian wasexactly the kind of candidate desired for the Mansion school, and shewas really pleased with her judgment when, after the first week or two,she heard Miss South and Julia praising the quickness and docility ofher protegee. Haleema, however, was not a young person capable of greatpersonal devotion, a fact that her pleading, poetic eyes seemed tocontradict. As she sometimes confided to the other girls, she liked oneperson as well as another, and if she had gone a little further in herconfidences, she might have said that the person in the ascendant wasusually the one who at the time was doing some special favor for her.She appreciated presents, and had a hoard of pretty things stowed awayin the bottom drawer of her bureau.

  On Mondays Brenda often found herself going to the Mansion, chieflybecause this was her only chance of seeing Amy. Monday, the Wellesleyholiday, Amy gave in part to a Mansion class in literature, and when herlittle informal talk was at an end Brenda would seize her for ahalf-hour of "gossip," as she called it. Sometimes she arrived at thehouse before the class was over, and then, if she slipped into theclass-room, Amy had not the heart to send her out. Amy protested thather work was by no means up to the standard that Brenda should look forin a teacher, while Brenda insisted that Amy's account of certain greatpoets and their work was so stimulating, that she should take up acourse of reading herself; and, indeed, she did induce Amy to make out alist of books that she ought to read.

  "I should rather they were interesting, but even if they are not reallyexciting, I'll promise to read at least three or four of them."

  "To please me?" queried Amy.

  "Well, partly to please you, but more to--to--well, to give me somethingto think about. Everything seems so dull and stupid this winter, thatI'm going to try a homoeopathic remedy and try to read dullbooks--just to see if I can't strengthen my mind."

  Then Amy, noticing that Brenda seemed far from happy, wisely asked noquestions, and as they walked across the Common to the station theytalked of everything except the subject that lay nearest Brenda's heart.

  "How is Fritz Tomkins?" Brenda asked, almost abruptly, referring to anold playmate of Amy's, now a Harvard Sophomore.<
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  "Oh, Fritz is doing splendidly. I hardly ever see him, and I'm sopleased."

  "What a funny way of putting it--pleased because you seldom see him."

  "Why, yes, because I know that means that he is so busy with his workthat he has no time for other things. He has come to Wellesley only oncethis winter, and he tells me that he never worked so hard in his life."

  If Amy's speech was a little disjointed, Brenda understood her, and incontrast her mind wandered to Arthur Weston. He, too, was busy, andperhaps doing his duty by remaining at his post in Washington. Butunlike Amy, she did not feel pleased that he could so contentedly keephis back turned to his Boston friends. Consequently she sent only thebriefest answers to his letters, and his replies became at last, ifpossible, briefer than hers.

  Belle, however, kept her informed of Arthur's doings, and Brenda wasnever quite sure whether the information that she gave her was intendedto please or to trouble her. She wrote, for example, of a riding partyto Chevy Chase, where Arthur and Annabel Harmon had led all the othersin gayety.

  "Annabel Harmon!" The name was familiar; and soon Brenda recalled one ofJulia's classmates at Radcliffe, a popular girl, and yet one whom someof the best girls did not like. She had had some trouble with thatstrange Clarissa Herter. Although Brenda had never cared so very muchfor Clarissa Herter, she was pleased now to recall that she had heardthat Clarissa had in the end been more popular, or rather better liked,than Annabel. She remembered that Annabel's father was a politician, andwhen a second letter came with Annabel's name still connected closelywith Arthur's, Brenda thought more deeply on the subject. She wonderedif, perhaps, Arthur was planning to stay permanently in Washington, andif he hoped to get some position through the influence of Mr. Harmon.

  Had Arthur been at home, Brenda would, undoubtedly, have given less timeto the Mansion work; for in the first place, in starting the work MissSouth had not counted on her aid. Other girls, more enthusiastic in thebeginning, had given less service in the end, and Brenda was almost theonly one who, without having promised much, was willing to do a greatdeal.

  On the whole, Miss South was well pleased with the interest shown by herformer pupils. There was Anstiss Rowe, for example, one of the mostvalued of the residents, who, after a year in society, had pronounced itall a bore. She had been one of the younger girls during Julia's days atMiss Crawdon's.

  "You never knew," she said once to Julia, "my intense admiration foryou. It would have spoiled it all had you known. But each of us littlegirls had to have some object of devotion, and you were my pattern ofperfection."

  "The idea!" responded Julia. "I suppose that I ought to blush, but whatyou say is too absurd."

  "Oh, I suppose that you never wondered who used to send you thosevalentines; probably you had so many that you never thought about mine.But there was one with some lovely mother-of-pearl ornaments. In fact, Isent you two valentines that year, and two the next; but, of course, youwouldn't remember mine especially."

  "It's all very touching, and, indeed, I do remember them, my dearAnstiss, for I have an idea that I received no other that year. Atleast, I have them safely put away at this very minute."

  "Well, I suppose that you thought some extraordinary youth sent them."

  "He would, indeed, have been extraordinary. But to tell you the truth, Isuspected that some girl had a hand in them."

  "We missed you when you went to College," said Anstiss meditatively.

  Though Anstiss had pronounced society hollow and a bore, she had notentirely forsworn it, and at times she went home for a week or two,returning, however, always on the evening of her history reading. Thiswas her special contribution to the school work.

  Anstiss had her own protegee at the Mansion--a girl who had been in herSunday-school class. Phoebe had been loath to leave school when herparents insisted, and Anstiss said it was merely avariciousness on theirpart, as her father was earning good pay. "When I came to investigate,"she said, "I found that he was only her stepfather, and her mother saidthat she did not need her money. So in the end I was able to get herconsent to her coming here. Phoebe was never very bright at school--"

  Then Julia interrupted her.

  "But she's doing splendidly here. Miss Dreen says that she's a borncook, and never makes a mistake."

  "Yes, I know. And when she has finished her course I'm going to see whatcan be done to encourage her to study still further. She says she'd liketo be a cook, but it seems to me that if she continues to be interestedin her study, she might be a director of cooking somewhere."

  "She'd earn as much by being a cook in some household."

  "Yes, but after all she has hardly the physique, and certain qualitiesof hers lead me to think that she would be a good manager. We are goingto have an exhibition soon, and although we do not expect the greatestresults this first year, still I am sure that you will admit that thegirls have learned something, and Phoebe shall exhibit one of hermodel luncheons. She has already served us some very good meals at afabulously low cost. That is one of the things she is learning, to makethe best use of inexpensive material."

  It was Edith who had been listening attentively to all that Anstiss hadsaid, and her reply, "I believe that I would rather see than eat thosevery, very inexpensive things," was given seriously. Edith was alwaysglad to help the work at the Mansion when some matter of additionalexpense was brought to her, and she made conscientious visits toGretchen, and in turn reported her progress to the old gardener. Butthere was a certain coldness in her manner that the young girls felt.They thought that she was not really interested in them, and her visitswere never greeted with the delight that was so evident when Nora madeher appearance. Edith was decided in her likes and dislikes. She couldalways be depended on to stand by a friend, and as certainly was she aptto be severe toward a wrongdoer. Though devoted to Julia and Miss South,she was less fond of Pamela and Anstiss.

  "An artist's model! how Ralph would love to paint her!" Brenda hadexclaimed to Miss South after first seeing Concetta. "How I wish that Ihad discovered her instead of Maggie."

  "She may have more personal charm," Miss South had responded, "butMaggie is devoted to you, and some persons call her rather pretty,although," a little apologetically, "we all understand here at theMansion that 'handsome is what handsome does' should be our chief ruleof conduct. I never permit the girls to make one word of comment aboutthe personal appearance of another."

  "Oh, naturally," responded Brenda, accepting the implied reproof; "butthe comparisons that I make will not come to the ears of the girls."

  "No, not the comparisons, perhaps; but we try ourselves not to let themthink that any girl is preferred by any one who comes here. All girls offifteen are sensitive."

  Yet Maggie, in spite of the fact that Concetta tried to make herjealous, was unwilling to believe that Brenda had a preference forConcetta.

  "Miss Brenda asked Miss South to send me up to her house to get thatparcel of embroidery patterns; she could have sent it down by her manjust as well," concluded Concetta, with an important air; "or she couldhave asked you to come."

  Then, when Maggie made no reply, except perhaps that she polished herglasses a little more vigorously, Concetta added:

  "But I'm sure she just loves to have me come to her house. You see shealways invites me to go up to her room, and she asks me all kinds ofquestions."

  Then, as Maggie still continued provokingly silent, Concetta continued:

  "You see, my country is a very interesting country, and I tell her allkinds of things that I have heard, especially about the beautifulcathedrals. She thinks I remember them all, but it is what I have heardthe elders say, and she listens quite open-eyed, that, so young, I canremember so much. Don't you hate that you were born only in Boston."

  "No, I don't," said Maggie gruffly; "I despise foreigners."

  Then did Concetta become wisely silent, for she heard the step in thehall of one in authority, and she did not wish at the moment to bringMaggie to the point of tears.
Maggie wept with unusual ease, and justnow Concetta was not anxious to draw on herself a reproof, lest itshould be followed by a withdrawal of the permission to go to MissBarlow's.

  It was true that Maggie had never swerved in her devotion, showing itoften in unexpected ways. Whenever Brenda entered the room she followedher with her eyes, and when her goddess addressed her she always blusheddeeply. Mrs. McSorley was constantly putting poor Maggie through acourse of questioning, that the former might be made sure that littlegirl had done nothing likely to drive her out of this paradise.