THEIR FIRST MEETING
The drawing-room at the Ashton homestead ran the whole length of one
side of the house and on this particular May afternoon was so filled
with sunshine and light that even the old portraits on the walls
appeared to change their severe Puritanical expressions and to look
down, from out their heavy gold frames, with something almost
approaching friendliness, on the strange girl now alone in the room,
although nothing in her appearance or manner suggested the birth and
breeding partly responsible for their New England pride.
The girl was also humbly engaged in placing fresh flowers on the tables
and mantel and in rearranging the chairs and ornaments in the room to
their best advantage. Finally, after a lingering glance out the front
window, she picked up her last vase of flowers, a single branch of apple
blossoms in a tall, green jar, and, crossing over to the grand piano so
placed it that the sunlight shone full upon it. Then she stood for a
moment looking thoughtfully at the open keyboard, which had a small
sheet of music spread before it. Esther Clark next sat down at the
piano and lightly ran her fingers over the keys so that it could
scarcely have been possible for any one farther away than the adjoining
hall to have heard her playing. The refrain was simple and repeated
itself, yet had dramatic force and lingered in one's memory, the musical
call of the watchword for the Camp Fire Girls.
Only that morning Betty had asked Esther to try to teach this call to
her friends when they came together at her home that afternoon to form
their club, and though Esther was painfully shy she felt obliged to do
her best. Some few of Betty's friends were known to her through their
acquaintance at school, but into not one of their homes had she ever
been invited socially.
The door of the drawing-room farthest from the piano opened quietly.
"Betty," a young man's voice inquired reproachfully, "aren't you even
glad enough to see me to say hello? When before did I ever know you so
devoted to practicing that you wouldn't stop for any excuse, and yet
here I have come all the way home from Portsmouth on your account!"
Richard Ashton ceased talking abruptly, for instead of the pretty figure
of his sister, Betty, he now beheld rising from the piano stool a tall
girl with bright red hair, looking as though she had been frightened
speechless.
"Great Caesar's ghost, what a homely girl!" was his first thought, but
not a change in his expression revealed what was in the young man's mind
as he stretched forth his hand.
"I am sorry to have interrupted you," he said quickly, "but I am Richard
Ashton, Betty's brother."
Of course he expected that the strange girl would then answer him, at
least tell him who she was or give some explanation of her presence, but
instead Esther stood silently looking down at the floor and twisting her
hands together in a wholly unnecessary state of embarrassment.
Richard Ashton was of medium height, slenderly built, but with broad
shoulders, and at this time of life twenty-three years old. His hair
and eyes were light brown; he bore no resemblance to Betty and had a
curiously serious expression for so young and fortunate a fellow.
Although not handsome, Dick had a look of purpose and distinction and
always had unconsciously served as the ideal for Betty's girl friends.
He was a Princeton graduate, but was now studying medicine in Portsmouth
and expected later to continue his studies in Germany. Perhaps it was
his own seriousness and settled purpose that had made him assist in
spoiling his small sister almost from her babyhood, yet lately seeing
Betty's restlessness and discontent he had begun to wonder if he and his
father and mother had been as kind to her as they had meant to be.
Betty was growing up and it might be she too needed to have something
asked of her, that she too wished to give as well as to receive.
"I am not your sister's friend (the girl near the piano had finally made
up her mind to speak), I am only a kind of companion, to help her with
her studying or to do whatever she desires."
Dick Ashton laughed, his face immediately losing its look of gravity.
"Well, that is no particular reason why you should not be her friend as
well, is it? At least I hope Betty won't make the task too hard for
you, but as to doing all the things she desires, I am afraid that will
keep you pretty busy. I believe I remember now, my mother did write me
about asking you to come here to stay; you have lived before--" The
young man hesitated. But Esther had now come nearer and really she
seemed almost too plain even to serve his pretty sister, Betty, the
contrast might be too hard for the homely girl.
"You were playing something when I came in, won't you go on," Dick
continued hastily, fearing that the strange girl, with her pale eyes
fixed on his, might be able to read his inmost thoughts and not desiring
to hurt her feelings. However she had started, edging toward the door.
"I would much rather not; your sister is to have some friends here this
afternoon and wishes me to teach them a few lines of music. I hope your
mother won't mind my touching this splendid piano."
"What on earth is the girl afraid of? I have no desire to eat her,"
Richard thought to himself, continuing to observe Esther's frightened
expression and nervous manner, but only answering good-naturedly:
"Certainly she won't mind. Please use the piano whenever you like, for
Betty hates practicing and I don't care much for a man musician,
especially a poor one, though I love music."
Just for a moment the newcomer's timidity vanished and her smile of
pleasure, showing her big, strong mouth with its white teeth, relieved
her face of its entire plainness. "I should love it more than anything
in the world; would you mind asking your mother if I may? I am afraid
to ask her."
"But not afraid of asking me?" Richard laughed; he had made his
suggestion without any special thought, but the girl might as well be
allowed to bang at their piano if she liked. Should she get it out of
order why it could soon be straightened out again. And then kindness to
persons less fortunate than himself was second nature with Richard
Ashton.
"Here is the mater coming, I will ask her at once," he returned, and
then seeing Esther's unspoken look of entreaty, as he went forward to
open the door for his mother, he silently agreed to postpone his
request.
Mrs. Ashton was a tall, blonde, handsomely dressed woman, who rarely
showed affection for anyone save her husband and children and whose
leisure time was largely devoted to playing bridge. Neither Betty nor
her son looked like her. Richard resembled his father, while Betty must
have inherited her appearance from some more remote ancestor. In one
comer of the parlor hung an oil painting of one of Mr. Ashton's
great-aunts, a young English girl in a white muslin dress and picture
hat, whom Betty always insisted she resembled.
Mrs. Ashton was frowning anxiously.
"Hasn't Betty returned, Dick?" she inquired. "It is an hour since
luncheon and her friends may arrive at any moment. The child was not at
all well yesterday and, I do wonder if her science teacher can be
keeping her in, Miss McMurtry is so inconsiderate. I really don't know
what to do about Betty this summer, she is so opposed to going to Europe
with us again and wants to form a club or a camp, something perfectly
extraordinary, so as to spend her summer in the woods. She almost
talked your father into the idea last evening, but I do hope, dear
Richard, that you will oppose her. You have such influence with Betty."
Dick and his mother were standing together by the window now on the
lookout, for the truant. "Don't be such a weakling, mother," the young
man replied teasingly. "If you really wish Betty to go to Europe with
you and father say so and let that settle the matter, but I am not so
sure this new scheme of hers is a bad one. Betty sent me a night
telegram at bedtime last night (telephoned it, I suppose, when you
thought she was in bed) asking me to come home for the day and help her
get her own way. Living out of doors all summer, mother, and learning
to look after herself and to rub up against other girls may be the best
thing in the world for Betty. I am afraid she has been growing up to be
more ornamental than useful."
"There is no reason why Betty should be anything but ornamental," Mrs.
Ashton argued, although plainly thinking over her son's words.
Dick Ashton shook his head. "No, mother, the modern world has no place
in it but for useful people nowadays. And somehow it seems to me that
even more is going to be asked of women than has been asked of men.
They have got to do their own housekeeping and some of the world's too,
pretty soon."
Before the young fellow finished speaking he and his mother were both
smiling and waving their hands toward Mollie and Polly O'Neill, who were
at this moment crossing the street with several other girl friends.
Before they entered the house, however, Betty's automobile, driven by
herself, dashed into sight, containing five other passengers: Margaret
Everett and her small brother; Miss McMurtry, the science teacher at the
high school; a tall girl with a clever face and a far-away expression in
her near-sighted blue eyes; and a fifth girl, an entire stranger both to
Mrs. Ashton and Dick and until a short while before an equal stranger to
Betty.
Almost before the car stopped Betty was out of her seat and ushering her
visitors into their big, sweet-smelling drawing-room. There Esther
stood close against the wall, trying her best to shrink out of sight
even while she reproached herself for her unnecessary awkwardness and
fear. Suppose she had had no home and no social training like the
greater number of these other girls, yet did she not mean to follow
forever the law of the Camp Fire and would it not teach her in time to
gain the knowledge necessary to happiness?