CHAPTER XIX Memories
Betty arrived at her home before her visitors. Esther was engaged foranother half hour with a music lesson and besides Betty wished to seethat the house was in order for her visitors.
It was a curious sensation to come home alone and to wander from one endof the big house to the other, hearing only the sound of her ownfootsteps, for Mrs. Mitchell, the caretaker, was in the kitchen preparingafternoon tea to be served the guests a little later, while her husbandwas working in the yard. Betty had an uncomfortable feeling ofdesolation, as though she were a kind of a ghost. First she went straightto her mother's room, but there the pictures were covered with sheets,the mattress rolled up, the curtains down, and the tables and mantel sobare of ornament that Betty hurried away to her own blue sitting roomacross the hall. Would her father and mother never be back? Surely theywould both be returning in the early summer when the weather would beless severe upon her father's health and the great house would bereopened as it had always been.
At the cabin with the other girls the time had not seemed so long toBetty, nearly ten months now since their sailing, but here at home why itseemed that years might have passed. A sudden fear clutched the girl'sheart--would things ever be quite the same again; did life ever repeatitself in exactly the same old way? And yet Betty had no regrets, onlypleasure, that she had been the moving spirit in the first organizationof the Sunrise Camp Fire club. How much they had learned in their summerand winter together! And though she might count herself as having learnedleast of all, yet surely she would never be quite so spoiled and selfishas on that May day when she had accidentally discovered Esther Clarksinging the Camp Fire hymn in their formerly deserted back room.
When her mother returned she would relieve her by taking the care of thehousekeeping upon her own shoulders and certainly she would be able tocut down expenses. Now that her father's income was so reduced, thiswould be a great assistance to him, as Mrs. Ashton had no idea ofpossible household economies. Betty smiled, not in the least mournfully.There was no thought of any real poverty to be grappled with in her mind.She was only considering in what an unexpected fashion she was going tobe able to show to her mother and father the benefits of her Camp Firetraining, for which she had plead so earnestly not quite a year before.
The young girl was in her own room at the time of these reflections,seated in her own blue rocking chair with her feet tucked up under herand her chin resting in her hand, looking out her open window at thedesolate garden, for this April afternoon was just as cold anduninspiring as that other May afternoon, and there was also no fire inher grate, although downstairs a big blaze had been lighted for theexpected company.
That Betty had changed in the past year, her parents would be able to seereadily. Really she was prettier than ever; from her outdoor life thecolor in her cheeks was deeper, her lips a more vivid scarlet and theselfish, sometimes discontented lines about her mouth and forehead hadwholly disappeared. Now thinking of her parents return, of how she wouldbe able to prove her love for them by greater devotion to her father inhis ill-health; that perhaps he would even teach her something of hisbusiness cares and responsibilities since Dick would be so long awaycompleting his medical studies, her expression was very thoughtful andcharming and her gray eyes unusually serious. Yet the next instant with agay laugh Betty jumped to her feet.
"My goodness, I must hurry downstairs and see how the drawing roomlooks!" she exclaimed aloud. "I have been forgetting what an interestinginterview we are going to have this afternoon! Dear me, I wonder what thetrouble is and why Esther and I should be privileged to attend thisromantic meeting? Perhaps there is going to be some kind of marriagecontract, arranged in German fashion, and Esther, Rose and I are wantedas witnesses. It matters not just so I am allowed in the secret." AndBetty started running down the hall.
However, before arriving at the front steps a moment's hesitationovertook her and she paused. The next second she had gone to the end ofthe passage and stood with her hand on the door-knob of the very roomwhere she had once surprised Esther. But to-day she could hear no soundsof singing on the inside.
"I am going to peep into Esther's old room; I wonder if she will wishthis same one when she comes back to live with us again. Somehow it mustaffect me like the locked chamber did Bluebeard's wife; there isn't theleast reason why I should be peering into this empty place to-day."
The door opened quickly and Betty gave a sudden scream of terror. Theroom was not unoccupied, some one was kneeling over in a corner by aclosed window.
The figure rose slowly to its feet. "I am sorry, Betty, I didn't mean tofrighten you. Really, dear, I didn't dream of your coming in here."
It was Esther Clark. In the half light Betty was now able to distinguishher perfectly. Esther's face was extremely white, there were tears in herlarge pale blue eyes and her lids were red and swollen. Her big handsworked nervously as they had on that former occasion when Betty hadthought her so plain and unattractive looking.
"Oh, it's you, Esther," Betty exclaimed in relieved tones. "Gracious, howyou startled me! But I thought you were taking your music lesson. What inthe world is troubling you, child, and how did you get into this houseand upstairs without my knowing?"
"I came in through the kitchen and crept upstairs as quietly as possible,since I wanted to be alone here for a few minutes," Esther explained."Will you please leave me for a little while?"
"Most certainly not," returned Betty in her most autocratic tones. "Ifyou have anything on your mind that is worrying you, come on downstairsand tell me what it is. You have a dreadful tiresome fashion, Esther, ofjust hugging your grievances to yourself, when if you just told outrightwhat they were, there would probably be nothing for you to fret about."Betty was annoyed and her tone was far more irritable than usual.Nevertheless, Esther crossed the short space between them and takingBetty's lovely face between her hands kissed her two or three times insuccession.
"Do as I tell you, Princess, please," she spoke in unusual tones ofauthority. "I will join you downstairs in a very little while, but I mustget back my self-control first."
So there seemed to be nothing left for Betty but obedience, so plainlydid Esther appear to know what she wanted. Very slowly the younger girlwalked down to the drawing room. "Esther did find it difficult to confidethings to people, but usually she was willing to tell them to her," Bettythought. "Well, perhaps her shyness and reticence came from having beenraised in an orphan asylum where no one was really deeply interested inher or her personal affairs. Nothing very serious could have happened,however, since Esther had left school only about an hour before."
In the drawing room everything was far more cheerful, the fire wasburning, the window blinds were drawn up, the grand piano was open and onit rested a vase of white roses. It was perfectly impossible for BettyAshton to learn to be economical all at once, and with the thought of apossible betrothal in the house that afternoon she had stopped at aflorist's and brought the flowers in with her. Now she could not helpfeeling a little glow of pride over the beauty of their old drawing room,especially noticeable after the simplicity of the living room at thecabin.
Feeling rather nervous over the idea that Esther might probably becontinuing with her crying upstairs and so unable to take part in thecoming interview, Betty walked slowly around the great room studying theportraits of her ancestors,--a favorite amusement with her so long as shecould remember. They were stern persons most of them. Betty did notbelieve that she could ever have such strict views of the differencebetween right and wrong, be so harsh in her judgments as they had been,but then the world had moved on to a wider vision since those days. Oneof her great, great uncles had assisted in the burning of witches. Bettyturned from this self-righteous looking portrait to the picture of theaunt whom she had always believed herself to resemble, the young woman inthe white dress with the big picture hat, then the girl smiled at her ownvanity. How absurd to think that she cou
ld look like any one so lovely!And yet here was the auburn hair, only a shade more golden than her own,big eyes that were blue instead of gray and a kind of proud fashion oftilting her chin. Very probably Betty had always held her own head inthis fashion because she had always so wished to be thought like thisspecial great aunt.
"Well, it was a good thing to feel a certain pride of ancestry," theyoung girl thought, "in spite of all of Polly's teasing. Surely thepossession of a great name ought to keep one away from littleness ormeanness, make one strive to fill an honorable position in the world. Ifshe had not the ability to be a great woman certainly she intended to bea good one. And then the recollection of Esther came to her again. PoorEsther, who had not even a name of her own! For this very reason had shenot always been more ambitious for her friend than Esther had seemed forherself? If she had no position, no money and no family, Esther did havea real talent and must make a place for herself some day."
But there sounded the first ring at the door bell! Let one hope it wasnot Herr Crippen arriving first, since, with Esther still upstairs, howcould she ever hope to keep him entertained until the arrival of theothers? But probably the elderly violinist had never seen anything quiteso handsome as their drawing room. Betty had the grace to laugh and thenblush over her own foolishness, snobbishness Polly might call it. Whatdid she know of Herr Crippen, his past, what he had seen, where he hadtraveled in the forty-five years or more of his life?
With a smile of welcome and her hand extended Betty then moved forwardtoward the door to receive her first guest.
The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows Page 19
