Brenda, Her School and Her Club
Page 19
XIX
NORA'S THOUGHTLESSNESS
It is never the easiest thing in the world to settle down to work afterthe holidays, and even Julia for a day or two found herself a littledreamy, with her thoughts constantly going back to the many pleasantthings of that Christmas week. But it was not as hard for her as for hercousins to resume the regular routine. She had a more definite aim thanthey, with the prospect of college examinations not so very far away.Brenda had not yet made up her mind to give her approval to her cousin'sstudying Greek, and she did not take the trouble to contradict Belle andFrances Pounder when they said that it must be a very disagreeable thingto have a cousin who intended to be a teacher. It is true that neitherBelle nor Frances was thoroughly informed as to Julia's intentions, butthey never needed very definite facts on which to base their theories.Consequently when they were at a loss for a subject of conversation,they were in the habit of discussing Julia's peculiarities. Otherpersons did not find Julia peculiar. To older people she seemed anespecially well-mannered girl, with a delightful vein of thoughtfulnessthat was not too often met in young girls. She had become also a decidedfavorite with the brothers of her school friends to an extent thatsometimes seemed surprising. For Julia was not an extremely pretty girl,and she was not half so well informed on sports and games as were thegirls who had lived all their lives in Boston. But she had a way oflistening attentively to whatever any boy happened to be saying to her,and the questions that she asked always showed an unusual degree ofattention--an attention that any one could see was not a mere pretence.Philip Blair had already begun to confide to her a larger share of hiscollege woes than he would have confided to his placid sister Edith. ForEdith had an uncomfortable habit of forgetting just what was to be keptsecret, and though Philip had no very dark secrets, there were stilllittle things that he preferred not to have told. Julia was also veryready to help Nora's younger brothers in their lessons, and as HarryGostar said, "There isn't another girl Nora knows that could help afellow with his Greek exercises, and even if she hasn't studied Greekany longer than I have, she has learned more than enough to show mewhere I make mistakes in these beastly old conjugations."
There was probably some jealousy in the feeling of Frances and Belletoward Julia, but jealousy was not a strong motive with Brenda. In hercase there had been little more than pettishness in her first attitudetowards her cousin--the pettishness of a spoiled child. Yet thispettishness, which left to itself would have seemed of littleaccount,--hardly worth noticing, when fanned by Belle and Frances tookon the aspect of jealousy. In consequence of this feeling Julia had beenmade at times very uncomfortable, though no one had ever known her tosay a word to Brenda in resentment.
Sometimes she found it very hard not to say a word when she heard theFour rushing upstairs on the afternoons of the club meetings. Strangethough it may seem, no invitation had yet been given her to assist inthe work for the Bazaar, even although all the other girls realized thatthe success of the Rosas' Christmas tree had been largely due to her.Perhaps it was just as well that Julia had no opportunity to inspect thethings that were preparing for the Bazaar. For even after these manyweeks of work there was hardly a single finished article. Belle'scentrepiece was so elaborate that a whole afternoon showed hardly morethan a single finished leaf, or one exquisitely wrought blossom.
"If any one would pay you for your time, Belle," Nora said mischievouslyone day, "we should have money enough to send one of the Rosa childrento Europe."
"You'd better talk, Nora," Belle replied, "your afghan isn't half doneeither, and an afghan does not begin to be as fussy as a centrepiece,and it isn't even artistic, or----"
"Oh, well," Nora replied, "this is not the only thing that I have done;I keep it to work on here, but I have finished a small shawl at home,and a pair of baby's shoes, and I am going to do any number of thingsbesides."
"Ah," said Belle, tossing her head, "you won't find me working myself todeath over a Bazaar. I think one afternoon a week is a great deal togive to any poor family, for that is what it amounts to, and you knowthat I don't care much about those Rosas, anyway."
"Oh, Belle!" cried Edith, looking shocked.
"No, indeed, I don't, and I am sure that Brenda does not care half asmuch as she pretends. Why, Edith, as for that you yourself never go downto the North End to see them."
"I can't; my mother won't let me go into dirty streets or into tenementhouses."
"Oh! if you cared very much, you'd find some way to go thereoccasionally. You could drive."
Edith looked so uncomfortable at this suggestion, that Nora, on whomusually fell the duty of taking up the cudgels, exclaimed,
"You know that Edith was very generous at Christmas, and that she isready to do ever so much more for the Rosas, and it isn't a bit fair tospeak in that way."
Belle discreetly said nothing further, for she had learned that whenNora assumed this positive tone, Brenda was apt to go over on her side,and then Belle herself would be so in the minority as to be obliged toseem an unpopular person, and if there was one thing in the world thatshe dreaded, it was to be considered unpopular. So trimming her sailsshe said, "Why, how silly you are, Nora, you know that I was only infun. Of course we all are interested in the Rosas, and I only wish thatI could do two or three centrepieces for the Bazaar. But I am always sobusy at this season----"
"You busy, Belle," cried Nora. "Who ever heard of such a thing. You arejust the idlest person I know."
"Indeed I am not," was the answer. "I have to do all the errands for thefamily, and half my clothes are made in the house, and we always havesuch stupid seamstresses, that----"
"I should say so, Belle; I do think that you have had some of theugliest clothes, lately, that I have seen this winter," interruptedNora, rather unceremoniously. Belle reddened very deeply at this speech,for as a matter of fact she was extremely sensitive on the subject ofher clothes. Unlike Brenda or Edith, she never had the privilege ofgoing to a fine costumer; nor could she even employ the dressmaker whomade some of the gowns worn by others of her set of friends. Thecircumstances in her family were such that she could not gratify hertaste in dress. She must wear this thing or that thing that hergrandmother had selected, or must have something of her mother's alteredto the present fashion for girls. However skilful the alterations, shefelt as if she were in some way disgraced. Now to tell the truth Belleherself had so much natural taste that only a very severe critic couldsee anything to criticise in her dress, and a sensible person watchingthe two girls would have said that it was much better for a young girlto be brought up with the somewhat economical habits that had to beBelle's than to have the rather too elegant clothes, and the manychanges of costume which Mrs. Blair seemed to prefer for Edith. Butgirls will be girls, and Belle's great grievance was that when fawnbrown for example, was the fashionable spring shade, she had to wear agown of stone grey, because somewhere in the cedar chests in hergrandmother's attic there was a stone grey thibet, ample enough to cutover into a spring gown for her. As to hats, neither her mother nor hergrandmother approved of her having her hats trimmed at a milliner's. Inconsequence, after her mother had put on a hat a simple trimming such asshe approved herself, Belle would spend her first spare afternoon inripping it all off, in order to retrim it. Indeed she usually spent notone afternoon but several in this operation, and even ventured to layout her own pocket money in little ornaments or in ribbons that shethought would add to the appearance of the hat. In the same way she wasable too to make slight alterations in the appearance of her gowns, andsometimes the changes were improvements. At other times what she hadconsidered a genuine addition to the style of her garment or hat toother eyes seemed only queer, or in schoolgirl parlance "weird."
When therefore Nora said that she had considered Belle's clothes of thepresent winter the ugliest she had seen, she touched a tender cord. Inthe first place Belle had had a strong dislike for the coat and hatwhich her mother and grandmother had selected for her, and in the secondplace she thought that
she had improved the appearance of her costume asa whole by entirely altering the style of her winter hat. For she hadtwisted the front to the back, had added a deep blue bow to thetrimming, and she believed that altogether she had accomplished wonders.
At Nora's speech the tears came to her eyes, and the heedless Brenda,who was not herself always careful of the feelings broke forthindignantly,
"I do think, Nora, that you might be careful what you say; you know thatBelle dresses as well as she can, and I think that she always lookswell. I wish that I could trim hats."
"Oh, Brenda, it is a good thing that you can't, for if you could younever would have a thing to wear; you can do fancy work, but you haven'ta thing finished yet for the Bazaar."
While Nora was talking Belle had been folding up her work, and in amoment more she was putting on her hat and coat.
"You are not going now?" cried Brenda. "Oh, don't go; you're not mad atNora, are you?"
"Oh, no," answered Belle with the air of injured innocence. "Oh, no, butI think that I ought to be going. I did not mean to stay the wholeafternoon."
"Oh, don't go," urged Edith; "if you'll wait half an hour I will go withyou, but I must finish this piece of drawn work."
But Belle continued to put on her outer wraps, and in a few minutes hadbidden the others good-bye. As a matter of fact Belle was deeplyoffended, and she knew that if she had stayed much longer with herfriends she would have been driven to express herself strongly. Now ageneral quarrel was a thing to be dreaded, and she knew that it would beunwise to risk it. Belle was certainly a sensible girl, and what she nowdid was really the best thing under the circumstances.
Left to themselves the three other girls let their tongues move veryfreely. It was something new for the rather loquacious Belle to go offwithout a word, as if in some way she had been vanquished. It was thevery best thing that she could have done for herself.
"Really, Nora, I don't see how you could speak in that way to Belle. Iam sure that she feels very badly," began Edith.
"Well, she is awfully conceited about her clothes, and sometimes shedoes look so queer."
"But you shouldn't say so to her face----"
"Better to her face than behind her back."
"I don't know," rejoined Edith, "there are some things that it is justas well not to say at all. Belle has a right to wear whatever kind ofhats she likes."
"Oh, Edith," responded Nora, "you are altogether too fair. I am tired ofhaving Belle find fault with every one else as if she were just perfectherself. For my own part, I----"
"Well, Nora," said Brenda, "you ought not to say anything to Belle whenshe is in my house. I happen to know that she is very sensitive abouther clothes. In the first place her mother will never let her have whatshe wants----"
"No, it's her grandmother," interrupted Edith. "She really does have ahard time, and it isn't fair to criticise her."
"No," added Brenda, "it is not."
"Well, Brenda," said Nora, "you ought not to say anything. You makeBelle awfully mad sometimes by what you say. I heard you telling her theother day that you should think that she'd just hate that winter coatthat she has been wearing, the fur is so very unbecoming, and you askedher why she didn't have a chinchilla collar and muff. She won't quarrelwith you, because there are so many little things that you can do forher."
"There, there," cried Edith who saw that neither Brenda nor Nora was inan amiable frame of mind. "Don't let us bicker. Any one would think thatwe were all enemies instead of the inseparable four."
"Oh, Edith, we can't all be as amiable as you," responded Nora. "Butreally I am a little sorry that I offended Belle, for I know that shehas a rather hard time at home, but I do wish that she would not put onsuch superior airs, and I do wish that she would not wear her hats hindside before. Sometimes I almost hate to go out with her."
"Why, Nora, I never heard of such a thing. I did not know that youattached the least importance to appearances. Besides I thought that youalways wanted to make every one comfortable in her feelings. It seemsstrange that you should have been so awfully thoughtless towards Belle."
"I dare say that you are perfectly correct," responded Nora; "youusually are, Edith Blair. And I haven't a doubt that I shall go down onmy knees to-morrow at recess, and apologize to Belle and to every oneelse whom I have ever offended. But I say that we have had enough ofthis exchange of compliments for to-day. Let us put up our work, andtalk about something else. Why, see here, Belle has left her centrepiecebehind her."
"Oh, give it to me," cried Brenda; "I will put it away," and she took itfrom Nora's hands.
"We shouldn't have had this fuss, should we," said Edith, "if Julia hadbeen working with us?"
"You don't call this a fuss," rejoined Nora, "only a slightmisunderstanding."
Now in spite of her outspokenness Nora was really a very fair mindedyoung person, or perhaps I ought to say because of it. Those who expressthemselves very plainly often hurt the feelings of their friends, andnot all of them have the courage to admit that they have been wrong. Itdoes require some courage to go to a girl who is in the habit ofjustifying all her own words and deeds to tell her that you yourselfhave been wrong. Yet this was just what Nora did a day or two later whenshe began to reflect on the criticisms she had made in the matter ofBelle's clothes. She was surprised herself at the graciousness withwhich Belle received her apology. But this was one of the cases--ratherexceptional to be sure,--in which Nora was decidedly in the wrong.Belle, therefore, could afford to be magnanimous. After this Nora wasmuch more careful about criticising any one, for it was her general aimin life to follow as closely as she could the Golden Rule.