together, even though for the moment she felt a little jealousy of
Ruth's growing popularity. Neither the evening before, nor during the
whole progress of the Bazaar, had Belle received any special attention
from even one of "the boys" as Philip and his friends were called
collectively. Ruth, to be sure, was nearly a year and a half older than
"The Four," and it was more natural that she should receive a little
more attention of the kind that young ladies receive. But Belle thought
that she herself felt as old as she should ever feel, and now since she
wore her hair done up, and had skirts that almost touched, she did not
see why she should not be treated just as if she were "grown up." To
suit her ideas, therefore, of the deportment of a young lady, she had
begun to assume a very coquettish manner. But this, instead of producing
the desired effect--that of gaining for her great admiration, only
amused the boys, and led them to make fun of her when by themselves.
Edith through Philip, and Nora through her brother, had some knowledge
of this fact. But Brenda regarded Belle with more or less awe, and
considered her an exceedingly worldly-wise person. When, therefore,
Belle proposed to her that instead of selling the water-color painting
of which I have spoken, at a fixed price, they should vote it to the
most popular young man of their acquaintance, Brenda acquiesced.
"You see it will be this way," said Belle, "we can get people to vote by
taking shares."
"How much will the shares be?"
"Oh, a dollar, and we can easily sell a hundred and fifty dollars worth.
I am sure that is a great deal better than letting the picture go for
one hundred dollars."
"But isn't that the same as a raffle?"
"No, stupid, of course not."
"For you know that Mrs. Blair has forbidden us to have any raffles."
"Yes, I know about that rule, and a very silly rule it is, too," replied
Belle, "but this isn't at all the same thing as a raffle. People just
pay for the privilege of voting, and don't expect any gain for
themselves, as they would in a lottery or raffle. It's a good thing,
too, for the person they vote for, it's doing him good, and no one can
disapprove of a plan to help other people," said Belle with an
unselfishness of sentiment that could not have been looked for in her.
"Oh, no," said Brenda, hesitatingly, "I suppose not."
"All the same," Belle had continued, "I think that we had better not say
anything to Edith and Nora about it, they might interfere in some way,
and besides I am sure that they both have enough to do looking after
their own tables."
"Well, but how can we get any votes if we do not say anything to
anybody?" enquired Brenda.
"Oh, of course we must take Frances into our confidence. She is at the
table where the picture is. There won't be much danger of its selling at
once for one hundred dollars, and we can trust Frances to head any one
off who pretends to wish to buy it."
So it was as a result of this plan of Belle's that Frances had prevented
a sale of the picture to Madame du Launy. For at that time Brenda and
Belle had a number of names on their books, enough in fact to represent
one half the valuation of the picture. Each girl who voted was bound to
secrecy, for Belle realized (though she had put it in a different light
to Brenda) that she was violating the spirit, if not the letter of Mrs.
Blair's command. Nevertheless the very fact that the carrying out of
this plan involved a certain amount of mystery, gave the whole thing
more zest than it would otherwise have had for the two.
Strangely enough, however, after the first fifty votes had been cast,
with a great scattering as to the most popular youth, the two girls
found it hard to get more names. The evening, indeed, was half over
before the list had increased to sixty votes.
About this time an awkward thing happened. Running upstairs from the
dining-room, Belle had dropped the neat little book in which she kept
record of her votes, and when one of the maids handed it to Mrs. Blair,
great was her surprise to find on the fly-leaf the sentence "voting
contest for the picture."
"Whose handwriting is this?" she asked Edith, "and what does this all
mean; surely none of you is carrying on a raffle."
"It's Belle's writing," answered Edith a little reluctantly, for she saw
that her mother was angry. "But I do not know what it means."
Well after this, of course Belle was summoned to talk with Mrs. Blair,
and though she reiterated that she had only desired to make as much
money as she could for the Bazaar, Mrs. Blair insisted that Belle should
give her all that she had already received to return to those who had
subscribed or voted. Brenda, too, came in for a good share of reproof,
and the whole thing was very humiliating to the two girls, who found
themselves so clearly in the wrong. Beyond obliging them to conform,
however, to her views of what was proper, Mrs. Blair had no intention of
making them unduly uncomfortable.
"Think no more about it," she said, "only remember that you have
prevented the sale of the picture, for I saw to-day that Madame Du Launy
was very anxious to buy it."
After hearing this Brenda and Belle, although mortified, decided to make
the best of the rest of the evening. They merely explained to some of
the voters who asked them, that it had been decided to give up this plan
for disposing of the picture, and that the money would be returned.
The episode of Madame Du Launy in the afternoon, and this little
unpleasant incident of the evening were the only things to make this
Bazaar seem very different from other Bazaars.
You know what they are all like, and that each fair or sale or Bazaar
depends for its charm on the unity with which the workers carry things
on, and the extent to which their friends patronize it, and I will say
for "The Four" that they were much more in harmony through this whole
affair than often they had been in the past, and that their
friends--especially their young friends--did even more than had been
expected of them to help swell the fund for the Rosas.
Brenda had been anxious to have one or two of this interesting family on
the spot to work on the sympathies of the patrons of the Bazaar. She had
thought that it would be delightful to have Angelina wait on the
refreshment table, and she did not see why Manuel might not have been
present all the time. "In some kind of fancy costume, of course, for I
know that his own clothes would not be exactly clean and whole."
But Mrs. Blair had objected to the presence of the Rosas whether in
fancy dress, or in their usual garb, and Mrs. Barlow had succeeded in
making Brenda see that it would not be the best thing in the world for
the Rosa children to be introduced to what must seem to them a scene of
great luxury in a Back Bay house, even though it might be explained to
them that part of the gorgeousness was due to a desire to help them--the
special gorgeousness, I mean, of the Bazaar.
"Who in the world is to take care of all the money?" asked Nora, as she
looked at the large tin box almost running over with silver and bills
taken in as receipts at the various tables.
"Oh, Mrs. Blair is to put it in her safe to-night, and to-morrow it will
be exchanged at the bank for large bills!" answered Brenda.
"And then----?"
"And then we must have a committee meeting to decide what is to be done
with it. When it was last counted there were nearly three hundred
dollars, and there has been something added to it since."
"Why, how perfectly splendid!" cried Nora; "why we should be able to do
almost anything we wish to do for the Rosas; why, it is a regular
fortune!" for Nora had ideas almost as vague as Brenda of the value of
money.
"Oh, yes, we've done very well, but I am glad that it is all over; the
Bazaar has been fun, but it is kind of a relief not to have it on my
mind any more."
"Oh, Brenda, it hasn't worried you much, you took things very easy until
the last day or two."
"Well, that's just it; I've felt so busy to-day, that I would like to
rest for a week."
"But you haven't been half as busy as Julia, she has hardly left her
post all day, and I think that she looks pretty tired."
"Dear me," said Brenda crossly, "if she had not wished to serve at the
flower booth, we could have found some other girl to do it. Oh, Julia,"
she cried as her cousin drew near her, "are you coming home in the
carriage with me?"
"Why, yes, if you wish it."
"Well, it has just taken papa and mamma home, and when it comes back, I
shall be ready."
The pretty dancing-hall now presented a thoroughly disordered
appearance. It was strewn with wrapping papers that had been pushed from
behind the tables, or had been thrown there by careless persons who had
tossed down the coverings of their surprise packages. There were also a
number of faded flowers lying about, and the tables themselves were in
confused heaps. For, of course, not everything had sold, and the
"remains" as one of the boys called what was left, had to stay on the
tables until the morning.
When Brenda and Julia were finally ready to go home, they were almost
the last to leave. Even the Cambridge boys had said "good-bye" and Ruth
and Frances had started for home.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Blair, for letting us come here," said
Brenda, as they left the room. For Brenda seldom forgot her good manners
where older people were concerned, even though she was sometimes
inclined to be pettish toward her younger friends.
"Why, what is that?" she enquired, as Julia had a large package lifted
into the carriage.
"It's that water-color that was on Edith's table."
"Why, what are you taking it home for?"
"I have bought it," replied Julia quietly, "and I am going to give it to
Aunt Anna."
Brenda was almost too much surprised to speak, for this was the picture
which she and Belle had tried to raffle.
"But you did not pay one hundred dollars for it?"
"Why not?" said Julia with a smile, as they reached their door.
XXVII
A MISTAKE
Brenda, herself, was too sleepy that night when she reached home, to
express her surprise at Julia's having bought the picture. Yet she
certainly wondered that the cousin whom she had hitherto regarded as
bound down to economy, should have been able to spend so large a sum for
a single purchase. Julia on her part was not surprised at her cousin's
indifference, for Brenda had a way of seeming curious or especially
interested only in relation to things that immediately concerned her.
When they had separated, and Julia was alone in her own room, she had
opportunity for the first time since the morning for thinking over all
the events of the day. Her place at the Bazaar had been a very pleasant
one, and while she had not had much to do with any of the girls except
Ruth, her attention had been constantly occupied in disposing of her
flowers. Philip and his friends had been especially good patrons, and
the former had taken the chances that came to him of going up to the
table and talking to Julia on one thing and another, not always
connected with the Bazaar or with the Rosas. In spite of a certain
amount of conceit--and what young sophomore is without this
quality--Philip was really a very agreeable fellow, and in Julia he had
some one ready to listen to him more attentively than was Edith's habit,
or indeed that of the other girls. For Belle, for example, although she
liked what she called "attention" from the boys of her set, wished to
have the conversation turn entirely upon herself and her own affairs,
and she always showed impatience when the person with whom she was
talking turned to any other subject. Now Philip--though in this he was
not so very different from other young men--liked to have some one to
talk to who would listen sympathetically to his tales of college
triumphs, or grievances, and occasionally give him a word of advice. In
Julia he found not only an attentive listener, but an intelligent
adviser. So although the Bazaar was not just the place for confidences,
he had been able to have several pleasant little snatches of
conversation with Julia. She had enjoyed these little fragmentary talks
as much as Philip had, and they both had had much amusement from his
rather clumsy attempts to help her in arranging bouquets for her
customers.
Julia, therefore, had many pleasant things to recall connected with the
Bazaar, and not the least pleasant was the fact that she had been able
to contribute a good deal toward helping the Rosas.
The one strange feature of the whole affair had been the sudden
departure of Madame Du Launy. "And why," mused Julia, "did Miss South go
away without bidding me good-bye? I know that she meant to stay until
evening. Well, perhaps it will all be explained. Though certainly now I
cannot understand it all. Perhaps to-morrow--" and here Julia fell
asleep with the question still unsettled.
Early the next morning--as soon at least as she had had her breakfast,
Julia started off to find Miss South, but the maid at her boarding-house
said that she had gone out and probably would not be back before
evening; with this she had to be content, although in addition to
general enquiries about the strange event of the day before, she wished
to talk over with Miss South some of the plans which they had been
discussing for the assistance of the Rosa family. They had been finally
successful in getting Mrs. Rosa to promise to go to the country for the
summer, if for no longer a time. They had found a house in Shiloh, a
small village with elevated land not so very far from Boston, and they
were sure that a residence there would benefit the sick woman. A man
whom Miss South knew, who had been at one time given up by the doctors
as in hopeless consumption, had moved to this village, and after a year
had been pronounced almost well. He had opened a little shop there, his
children had found employment for their spare hours, and the family had
at last started on the high road to prosperity. This was a great change
for them, for during their father's illness in town, they had often had
to have charitable relief. Miss South's plan for Mrs. Rosa included a
certain amount of work for the family. A farmer had been found who
promised to employ the oldest boy, and a woman who took summer boarders
said that she could pay Angelina two dollars a week, to help in her
kitchen, if she could sleep at home. The house which they had selected
had a small piece of land where it was hoped that Mrs. Rosa could raise
some vegetables.
To accomplish what they wished, considerable money was needed, and they
had enlisted Brenda's interest to so great an extent that she professed
herself perfectly willing to have the money raised at the Bazaar used to
rent and equip the house, and pay the many little expenses that would be
caused by the enterprise. "As Brenda really has been interested in
Manuel, it would be hardly fair to leave her out of this plan,
although," said Julia, "although we might get on without her help."
"Oh, dear, no," Miss South had said, "it would never in the world do to
overlook Brenda. She is an impulsive little thing, and although Mrs.
Rosa and the children might have fared badly this winter, had they had
no one but Brenda to depend on, still it is a great advance for Brenda
to be interested in some one besides herself, and it is excellent
discipline for her to have a certain share in carrying out this plan. It
is not altogether a matter of money."
Now, Brenda, of course, in deciding to favor the plan proposed by Miss
South was not acting entirely for herself. Edith, Nora, and Belle were
as much concerned as she, and Nora in fact, as the rescuer of Manuel,
was more interested than any of the others. Belle, the only one who
might have been expected to oppose Miss South's plan, really had no
objection to it. Her one thought in the whole matter had been to get as
much pleasure and glory as possible out of the Bazaar itself. Edith,
while practical about some things,--needlework for example, and
lessons,--seldom put her mind on money matters, and Nora was as heedless
about this as about other things. Brenda was almost as heedless, and yet
The Four had thought it perfectly proper that she should be treasurer of
their little fund.
So it happened that on the very morning when Julia was trying to find
Miss South, Brenda had received from Mrs. Blair's hands four crisp one
hundred dollar notes. This was a little more than had been taken at the
Bazaar. But in getting the loose bills and cheques changed into more
compact form, Mrs. Blair had added enough to make the sum an even four
hundred dollars.
The other three girls were with Brenda as she received the money from
Mrs. Blair, and immediately they sat down to count up the expenses that
must be paid from their receipts. Rather to Mrs. Blair's surprise these
expenses mounted up to more than one hundred dollars, and she scolded
The Four a little for having engaged an expensive orchestra for the
music of the preceding evening, when music was not really needed at all.
The ices and other things furnished the refreshment room made another
large item in the bills, although there had been some profit from this
department.
"I will take one of your one hundred dollar bills, and with it pay the
expenses," said Mrs. Blair, "and I would advise you to take care of the
three hundred dollars, for after all it is not a large sum to be used
toward the support of a sick woman and five children."
"Of course we'll take care of it, at least Brenda will," cried Nora, as
Brenda folded the money away carefully in her purse, and placed the
purse in a small leather bag. Then they went home with Brenda, and they
saw her lock the bag into her top bureau drawer.
After this they sat for a while as girls will, idly talking about the
affairs of the day, while Mrs. Barlow's French maid bustled about,
laying away some new waists and skirts of Brenda's that had just come
home from the dressmaker's.
"Look," at last cried Brenda, jumping up from her seat impetuously,
"look, Marie, did you ever see so much money," and opening the drawer
and the purse she brandished the three hundred dollar bills before the
eyes of the young Frenchwoman.
"Oh, my! Mees," cried Marie, "three dollars, that is not so very much!"
"Three dollars!" shouted Brenda, "three hundred dollars, what you call
twelve hundred francs."
"Oh, my!" exclaimed Marie, her eyes almost jumping out of her head, "oh,
my! I never did see so much money, let me look." So they let her touch
the bills, and they laughed at the comments she made, and especially
when she cried, "Louis would marry me if that money was mine."
"I thought he was going to anyway," said Belle, "you have always said
that you were engaged."
"Oh, yes," she replied. "Oh, yes, sometime, perhaps, but it takes much
money to get married. If I have to wait too long, perhaps Louis will
find another girl with more money. But no matter." And she went out of
the room looking much less cheerful than before she had seen the money.
"How mercenary!" said Belle as she disappeared, for Belle always had a
word large enough to fit every happening.
"Well, it must be hard not to have any money but just what you earn
every week," interposed Edith sympathetically.
"Oh it's better not to have much money than to have a man think only of
that in marrying you," responded Belle in her most worldly-wise voice.
"Come, I think that we are talking of things that we know nothing
about," said Nora, "but if I were you, Brenda, I would not let every one
in the house know where that money is."
"Nonsense, I always carry the key with me, and anyway it won't be here
long," answered Brenda.
"No matter, if I were you I would give it to Mr. Barlow to take down
town."
"Yes, you ought to," added Edith.
"Oh, what fusses you are!" cried Brenda, "any one would think that I was
a two-year-old baby."
Just then there was a tap at the door.
"May I come in?" said a voice, which they at once recognized as Julia's.
"Yes, indeed," cried Nora and Edith, and the former flung the door wide
open and greeted Julia with a kiss.
"Where have you been, but of course you have been to see Miss South. It
was so funny that she did not stay last evening. What was the reason?"
"Well I did not find her; she was not expected home to-day," answered
Julia.
"How queer!"
"Why, to tell you the truth, I was a little surprised myself, for we had
an appointment together this morning, although if we had not had one, I
should have gone up there to find out if she was ill yesterday."
"Oh, tell me," enquired Edith, "have you heard anything about Madame Du
Launy? Mamma said that she would send there to enquire this morning, but
I have not been home since she sent."
"Yes," said Julia, "I did make enquiries at the house, and was told that
she was feeling pretty well to-day, but that she could not see anybody."
"Not even you!" exclaimed Belle, a little sarcastically.
"Not even me," replied Julia pleasantly. "I suppose for one thing that
the Bazaar yesterday tired her. They tell me that it is the first time
in twenty years that she has been inside of any house in Boston besides
her own."
"I wonder if that is true," said Edith, reflectively.
"Yes, I believe that it is," answered Julia. "Madame Du Launy said
almost as much to me, although I must admit that she never talks very
much about that kind of thing. As often as I have seen her this spring,
she has never said a word to me on the subject of Boston people and
their attitude to her,--or her attitude to them--" she hastened to add.
"You talk like a book, Julia," said Brenda, who had complained once or
twice that Julia talked too precisely, "like a school-teacher," she
generally said, when she spoke on the subject to Belle.
Julia laughed good-naturedly. Brenda's little arrows did less harm now
than in the earlier part of the season.
"So long as I make myself clear, it is all right, isn't it?" she asked.
"Oh, of course," answered Brenda, "but you and Belle always do use such
alarmingly correct expressions."
"Brenda," called Mrs. Barlow from the floor below. The girls exchanged
glances. There was something ominous in the tone, and even the dilatory
Brenda decided that it would be best to respond as quickly as possible
to the summons.
Thereupon the other girls rose to go. In fact, the morning was almost
over, and during the two or three hours which The Four had spent
together they had talked about everything connected with the Bazaar
until there was little more for them to say. The late hours which they
had been keeping were telling upon them all, and if any one of them had
been asked to tell what she felt the most need of at that particular
moment, she would probably have said, "A good nap."
Julia, however, was the only one to say frankly that she felt sleepy,
and she excused herself as the others went downstairs, while they bade
her good-bye at the door of her own room. She had been there but a few
minutes seated in a wicker easy-chair before the long window which
afforded a beautiful view of the river, when the door was hastily flung
open, and in a second Brenda stood before her.
"I think that you are just as mean as you can be, Julia Bourne," she
cried angrily. "It does seem as if I ought not to have spies in my own
house watching everything that I do and carrying tales just as if I were
a baby."
"Why, what do you mean, Brenda?" asked Julia in genuine astonishment.
"You know very well what I mean. You and Miss South, you saw me with
Belle the other afternoon; oh, it wasn't so long ago that you could
forget it, you saw us down there by the Music Hall and you told mamma
that we had been there. Anyway, I do not see whose business it is. We
are old enough to go about by ourselves, but I think that you are just
as mean as you can be," and with this final outburst Brenda flung
herself from the room without giving Julia time to reply.