BERT AND THE BARGAIN
THE day after Bernice’s party everybody went skating. A lake on the
outskirts of Berwick obligingly froze itself over with a sufficient
thickness of ice to be entirely safe. So the whole of the younger
population put itself on runners.
The Fayres and Roses arrived early in the afternoon. Encased in warm
sweaters and knit caps, they braved the cold, and were soon swaying
along the glassy surface.
Dolly and Dotty had decided not to call it a skating party, but after
they tired of the ice, to ask half a dozen or so to go back with them to
Treasure House.
Later Bernice came, alone. She wore a new skating suit of green cloth,
fur-trimmed, and a jaunty green cap with a red feather.
“There’s Bernice,” said Dolly quickly to Bert. “You must go and skate
with her.”
“Won’t do it. I did my duty last night, and I’m tired of the game. Get
somebody else.” Bert laughed good-naturedly, and skated off with Maisie
May, who had not heard the colloquy of the brother and sister.
Now Bernice, by reason of her good time the night before, seemed to take
it for granted that her star was in the ascendant. “Here I am!” she
cried, gaily. “Who bids for the honour of the first skate with me?”
She couldn’t have chosen a worse speech. It was full of arrogance, and
her condescending smile as she swung her skates in her hand, did not
attract the boys who were present.
“Come on, Dotty,” said Joe Collins, “let’s skate off. I don’t want any
Forbes in mine this afternoon.”
Dotty hesitated, for she had promised Dolly to help her, but Joe urged
her away and the two skated off.
Dolly went straight to Bernice, and said in a low tone: “Don’t talk that
way, Bernie! You scare them all off. They won’t stand your putting on
airs.”
“Airs, nothing!” cried Bernice. “Don’t tell _me_ how to behave, Dolly
Fayre! Hello, there, Tad Brown. Put on my skates for me, won’t you?”
Thus summoned, Tad had to obey, and after the skates were adjusted,
Bernice said, “Now, for a glide,” and perforce Tad skated with her. But
he made a grimace over his shoulder at Dolly, and Bernice saw it.
“I won’t go with you, you rude thing!” she exclaimed. “I saw you wink at
Dolly Fayre!”
“Well,” Tad exclaimed, “haven’t I a right to wink if I want to?”
“But I know what you meant, you meant you didn’t want to skate with me.
Come, now, didn’t you?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you so,” said Tad, half-laughing at Bernice’s
angry face. And this so enraged her, that she turned and left him, and
skated off alone.
Dolly was in despair. Was all her plan to fall through because Bernice
herself couldn’t make good?
“What matter, Dollsie?” said Lollie Henry, just arriving, and seeing the
woebegone face.
“Oh, Lollie, you’re my friend! _Do_ help me out! _Please_ go and skate
with Bernice, and be awfully nice to her, no matter _what_ she says.
Won’t you, Lollie, please?”
“Sure!” said Lollie, looking into the pleading blue eyes. “What you say,
goes. Me to the Bernie!”
He skated after Bernice, overtook her, and holding out his hands said,
“You’re a dandy skater, catch on!”
Gladly Bernice joined hands, and in a moment they were gaily skating
among the others. Dolly, delighted at the sight, looked about for
somebody to skate with, herself.
A laughing face peeped from behind a tree, and Reggie Stuart came
cautiously forth. “Hid from the other one,” he explained. “Thought you’d
never get her fixed up. Why are _you_ in charge of her goings and
comings, Dolly?”
“’Cause I want to be. Now, you be good, Reg. If you’re my friend, you’ve
got to be Bernice’s, too. Come on, let’s skate. I’m bothered in my head
and perhaps it will tangle up my feet, but we’ll try.”
It didn’t; on the contrary, the delightful exercise soothed Dolly’s
wrought-up nerves, and with every stroke she became more her own gay,
merry self.
“Look out for yourself!” she cried, as Reggie nearly tripped over a
chunk of ice.
“Yes, I _am_ a tangle-footed jay! Always getting in the way!”
“Nonsense! You’re a fine skater! Let’s catch up to Dot and Joe.”
As the afternoon wore on, Dolly saw several times that Bernice was
standing alone and neglected. Several of the boys, at Dolly’s
insistence, or at Dotty’s request, had skated with her, but only for
short excursions, and somehow all the popularity that Bernice had
enjoyed the night before seemed to be fading away.
“Oh, dear,” Dolly sighed to herself, “I’m going to fail, after all. Last
night, it was at her house, so the boys and girls _had_ to be decent,
but they won’t keep it up, and it’s all Bernie’s fault. I’ve done all I
can. But I _won’t_ give up! I _can’t_! I must succeed!”
In desperation she flew over to Bob Rose.
“Bob, please, for my sake, _do_ go and skate with Bernice!”
“Good gracious, Dolly! Why this heart-rending plea? I’ll do it, if I
must, but I’d a lot rather skate with you. She’s so—so—dressy, you
see.”
“Never mind, just _go_! And _stay_, and keep on skating with her till
somebody else asks her.”
“Whew! That’ll be till—well, off I go!”
Off Bob went, and was so pleasantly polite and courteous that Bernice
had no suspicion that he had been asked to come.
“Hello,” he said, cordially. “May I have the honour of a glide with the
girl in green?”
Bernice smiled, and consented gladly. She was a good skater, and they
glided evenly along.
“Great little old lake, isn’t it?” said Bob, as they flew on. “We
haven’t such a good skating place at school. Only a skinny little river,
that hardly ever freezes solid.”
But before Bernice could respond, they heard Bob’s name called by a loud
voice on shore, and looking hack, they saw Mr. Rose in his motor-car,
beckoning to Bob.
“’Scuse me just a minute,” said the boy and ran to see what his father
wanted.
“Awfully sorry,” he said as he returned, “but I’ve got to go off with
Dad. It’s a special matter, or I wouldn’t leave you. We must have
another skate together, before I go back.”
With a wave of his cap, Bob ran off to join his father, and Bernice was
alone again. Again Dolly came to the rescue.
This time she went for Bert, who was skating with Dotty.
“Bert Fayre,” she began, “you go straight and skate with Bernie, and you
make her have a good time, and don’t let her know I sent you. Go right
off, and don’t muff it! Do it up _right_. I’m about all in, and this
game is going to be too much for me, unless _somebody_ helps me and
helps me right. Go on, now,—and Dot and I will skate together.”
Impressed by Dolly’s tense voice and harassed face, Bert obeyed.
“All right, little sister,” he said. “Trust big buddie to do it up to
the queen’s taste. Tra-la-la!” with a flourishing bow. Bert left the two
girls and skated over to where Bernice stood, looking pettish and sulky.
“Ah, there, Diana,” greeted Bert; “been waiting for a chance at you.
What did you do with Bob?”
“His father came, and he had to go away.”
“Good boy to obey his daddy, and thereby let me have his place. Come for
a whirl?”
“Do you want me to?” and Bernice looked coquettish.
“Sure! Been living all my life for this moment! Wow! You’re a peach of a
skater! All crosspatch girls are.”
“What!” and Bernice stopped short, thinking she could not have heard
aright.
“You heard me,” said Bert, carelessly. “Why? Didn’t you know you’re
crosspatch? It’s written in every line of your expressive face.”
Bert was laughing so pleasantly, that Bernice was bewildered. Did he
mean what he was saying? Was it a joke? Or what was the explanation?
[Illustration: “I know all about your bargain with my sister.”]
“Needn’t get huffy,” Bert went on. “I s’pose you can’t help it. Pity,
too, such a nice girl spoiled by bad temper! Well, I don’t mind; I like
crosspatches myself.”
“I think you’re very rude!” and Bernice tried to draw her hand from his.
“I don’t want to skate with you.”
“Oh, yes, you do, too. I’m one of the nicest boys here. And you’ve no
reason to get mad. I’m only telling you the truth. And of course you
want to be cross, or you wouldn’t be so.”
“I’m _not_ cross!”
“Oh, _no_! No! You’re our little ray o’ sunshine! Oh, _yes_!”
As a matter of fact, Bernice was in a towering rage. She had never
before been spoken to like this, and she didn’t know what to make of it.
But it was difficult to be angry at a boy who grinned in a most friendly
manner, even while he said such impertinent things.
“Now, look here, Bernice Forbes,” Bert went on, as they skated smoothly
along, “I know all about your bargain with my sister. I think it’s a
crazy idea, but all the same, I think it’s a fair deal. And I want to
help. But Dolly doesn’t need help, _she_ can do all she has set out to
do. So, I want to help you. Mayn’t I?”
Bert’s frank, boyish face was very wheedlesome, and as he smiled at
Bernice, she saw he was in earnest and in a kindly, whole-souled way
meant just what he said.
“I think you’re the strangest boy I ever saw!” she exclaimed.
“All right, let it go at that. But let’s have this thing out. Are you
willing to let me help you?”
“Help me what?”
“Don’t let’s pretend. You know what I mean, or,—if you want it in plain
English,—help you to be one of the most popular girls in Berwick, which
is what you _ought_ to be, and _can_ be as well as not.”
“No, I can’t. I’ve tried—”
“Excuse me, you haven’t tried. At least, not in the right way.”
“What is the right way?”
“Ah, you ask that. Then, you are willing to let me help you?”
“Of course I am, if you can do it.”
“Then, first of all, you must remove that chip from your shoulder.”
Bert spoke so earnestly, that Bernice involuntarily glanced at her
shoulder.
“Yes, it’s there,” said Bert gravely. “You see, Bernie, you think the
world owes you a living, and the world is not sure that it does. So
you’ve got to earn that living.”
“Earn my own living! Why, my father—”
“Oh, can’t you understand parables? I mean, you think Berwick owes you a
liking, then, and really, you’ve got to _make_ Berwick like you.
Berwick, in this case, meaning the dozen or so boys and girls of our
set.”
“Well, then, if you know so much, how am I to make them?”
“First, as I said, dislodge that very large and elegant chip that adorns
your shoulder,—meaning, don’t feel grouchy toward people because they
don’t run and fall on your neck as you approach.”
“Why, Bert Fayre, you’re awful!”
“’Course I’m awful, but I’ve simply got to put it to you straight. I
know what Dolly’s after, and I know you can give it to her, and yet, it
will all be of no use if you don’t play up yourself. You will, Bernice,
won’t you?”
“Yes, I will. But I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you _do_ know how, only you find it hard. All you have to do to
make people like you and want to be with you, is to like them and be
nice to them. You can’t just sit around accepting,—you must give.”
“Give what?”
“Smiles, kindliness, gaiety, fun, nonsense, real true understanding, and
all the things that go to make a tiptop girl.”
“Like Dolly?”
“Yes, like my sister, and Dot Rose and Maisie May, and the Rawlins
girls—”
“Everybody except me!”
“Well, if you see it that way, then act so you’ll put yourself in the
bunch.”
“I’m going to try, Bert. You’ve given me a new idea.”
“I know; you thought Dolly could do it all, and you just sit back and
take favours as they drop in your lap. Well, probably you can do that
some day, but first, you’ve got to make good. See?”
Bernice had only a chance for an answering smile, when Dolly called to
them to come on, as they were going home.
Bert and Bernice turned back, and joined the others, took off their
skates and started homeward. The crowd separated to take their various
ways, and the two D’s asked a few to go to Treasure House with them for
a fudge feast.
“Better come,” said Bert to Bernice. “The girls make ripping fudge.”
And very gladly Bernice went along. Dolly had not meant to ask her, for
she was wearied with her afternoon’s efforts and a little discouraged.
But she seconded Bert’s invitation, and with the two Browns and Lollie,
they all went to Treasure House.
The boys built up a roaring log fire while the girls went to the
kitchenette to make the cherished fudge.
“Let me help,” said Bernice in such a gay, sunshiny voice that Dotty
looked up in surprise.
“All right, Bernie,” she said, meeting her half way. “You shave off this
chocolate, and Doll and I will fix the other ingrejunts.”
All three worked with a will, and in the shortest possible time
consistent with good fudge, the candy was ready.
“Sim-pul-ly delicious!” exclaimed Lollie, rolling his eyes up. “Who made
it?”
“All of us,” said Bernice, “but mostly Dolly and Dotty. I only helped.”
“It’s the help part that tastes so good, then,” and Bert smiled at her,
with a knowing nod.
This delighted Bernice, and expanding under the warmth of Bert’s
approval, she tried her best to be entertaining, and in gayest mood she
chaffed and joked until she was really the centre of attraction.
“Must go home now,” she said, at last. “I just hate to leave, but Dad
gets home at six, and he always wants to see his little girl there
waiting for him.”
“Good-bye, Bernie, if you must go,” said Dotty, and then all were
surprised to hear Bert say, “I’ll walk around with you,—it’s sort of
dusk.”
“Thank you,” said Bernice in the nicest kind of way, and they started
off.
“Well,” said Dolly, as the other boys had gone too, “Bert _is_ an old
trump, after all. Bob was, too, only he was called off just at the wrong
time.”
“He’ll do his part yet,” and Dotty wagged her head assuredly; “I’ll make
him!”
“Do, Dot,” said Dolly.