An Unexpected Intrusion
One morning about two weeks later Bettina Graham entered her Camp Fire
guardian’s small private sitting-room bearing a note in her hand.
The sitting-room adjoined Mrs. Burton’s bed-room and was at the front of
the house on the second floor. Indeed the two rooms were the choice ones
of the entire house so that Mrs. Burton had objected to Miss Patricia’s
not occupying them herself. The house was hers and she was also the
oldest member of the household.
However, Miss Patricia had at once protested that not only were the rooms
not particularly desirable, but that they were too cluttered with
artistic paraphernalia for her to endure living in them. She had then
established herself in a severely plain bed-room on the third floor,
after having a great part of the furniture which the room had previously
contained removed to other bed-rooms.
Knowing that Miss Patricia would probably not have been comfortable amid
her present surroundings, afterwards Mrs. Burton allowed herself the
privilege of thoroughly enjoying them.
The two rooms evidently had been designed for a woman of luxurious and
exquisite taste. The walls of both rooms were of a delicate robin’s egg
blue with panelings of French oak. The furniture was of French oak
upholstered in the same shade of blue tapestry and the curtains were of
heavy, blue satin damask.
Mrs. Burton was curled up in a large blue chair, writing a letter upon a
portfolio which she balanced shakily in her lap.
“I was afraid you might be Aunt Patricia, Bettina. She would undoubtedly
reproach me for writing a letter on my lap instead of upon that ornate
desk in the corner so plainly intended for the purpose. Don’t tell on me,
I know it is reprehensible, but I have always hated doing the right
things in the right places at the right time.
“My husband is unhappily aware of this trait of my character. I am
writing him now. He joins us in a short time and I expect to go to
England with him on a government mission before we sail for home. We may
be in England for months. I wonder if you Camp Fire girls would like to
spend the summer with us? Aunt Patricia will soon return to the
devastated French country to continue the reclamation work there. Her
whole thought is absorbed in it, and I believe Vera Lagerloff and Alice
Ashton wish to return with her.
“But pardon my talking at such length, Bettina. Was there not something
you specially wished to say to me?”
Mrs. Burton straightened herself in her chair trying to appear in a
slightly more dignified attitude, and quite unconscious of the small spot
of ink which decorated one of her cheeks.
She was also wearing a faded blue cotton morning dress, which she had
formerly worn at the farmhouse on the Aisne, which was entirely unsuited
to her present surroundings. But she had dressed in a hurry and had
forgotten to change her costume.
Bettina smiled.
“It is all right, Tante, I won’t tell, only let me take care of your
portfolio while I talk to you and please don’t allow Aunt Patricia to see
you in your present toilet. She is too funny! She used to be so extremely
severe in the past over any expression of frivolity, either on your part
or on ours. Now she seems to wish us to keep perfectly dressed all the
time, so as to be in harmony with this lovely house I suppose! Besides,
you know she insists that since your maid, Marie, left you finally to
marry Mr. Jefferson Simpson, after having refused to consider him in
their early acquaintance in the west, that you are unable properly to
take care of yourself. This is an unfortunate reputation for a Camp Fire
guardian! I won’t keep you a moment; I only want you to read this note
from Mr. Hale. He has written to say that he has written for permission
for us to visit the Queen’s little secret garden a second time and this
time will you please come with us? You will, won’t you, Tante? I want to
see the garden again and I would not wish to go alone with Mr. Hale and
would rather have you with us than one of the Camp Fire girls.”
Before replying Mrs. Burton looked at Bettina searchingly. Bettina was
older than the other Camp Fire girls, not so much in years as in certain
phases of character, although in others she was peculiarly candid and
childlike.
Ever since their original meeting David Hale had been a frequent guest at
Miss Patricia’s home and although on extremely friendly terms with the
entire group of American Camp Fire girls, it had seemed to Mrs. Burton
that he appeared to have an especial liking for Bettina. Yet Mrs. Burton
could not be sure; of late she had observed him talking to Marguerite
Arnot as frequently as to Bettina.
At present there was nothing in Bettina’s expression in the least self
conscious or confused.
“Why don’t you answer, Tante? Would you rather not join us? I think it
will be worth while. The little garden has haunted me, even after seeing
it on a winter day, with the promise of what it might be in the
springtime!”
Mrs. Burton gave a tiny, impatient shake to her shoulders.
“Why of course, Bettina, I want to go with you; haven’t I answered you? I
am really anxious to see the little secret garden and would have been
envious of you had you gone without me. Put down Mr. Hale’s note, I will
read it later. I must have Captain Burton’s letter ready for the next
post.”
And Bettina departed, having placed her letter, which she had taken out
of its envelope and left half open upon Mrs. Burton’s table in the center
of her sitting-room.
After she had gone, Mrs. Burton finished her own letter, then dressed and
went downstairs for a walk. She did not regard the reading of Bettina’s
note from Mr. Hale as of immediate importance, as she already knew its
contents.
Five minutes after Mrs. Burton’s departure, some one else knocked at her
door. When there was no reply from the inside it was slowly opened. This
was not an intrusion; the young French girl, Julie Dupont, had been told
to leave Mrs. Burton’s gown in her room, even if she were not there to
receive it.
These instructions had been given Julie by Marguerite Arnot, who had been
altering a costume which Mrs. Burton had said she wished to wear later in
the day.
Therefore, there was no objection to Julie’s entering the sitting-room,
or having entered it, to stand quietly in the room and study it in
detail.
By a chance the little French girl, who was the latest addition to Miss
Patricia Lord’s household, had never been in Mrs. Burton’s room before.
Now its luxury and typically French appearance, fascinated her. It was
true that Julie had seen such rooms before; she had not been apprenticed
to a fashionable dressmaker without having been sent on errands which had
taken her to French homes of nearly the same character as Miss Lord’s
present temporary one. But Julie was too intensely French herself to find
their fascination grow less.
At present she appreciated details in the furnishings of the sitting-room
as no one of the American Camp Fire girls could have appreciated them. As
Julie’s eyes swept from the beautifully shaded blue walls to examine each
separate article of furniture, her eyes rested upon the note to Bettina
in David Hale’s handwriting. She recognized the writing. He had recently
loaned Marguerite Arnot books in which he had written his own name and a
few lines as well.
Julie was able to read only a very little English which she had acquired
at school.
Nevertheless, she at once picked up the letter, with an expression of
eager curiosity.
To her surprise she first discovered Bettina’s name. She had not
anticipated this, presuming the note had been written to Mrs. Burton.
Instantly she became more interested.
The note was also written in French and not English.
Julie devoted no time to puzzling over this fact. However, the
explanation was simple, Bettina and David Hale had been studying French
together and therefore David had written in French.
At first Julie read the note idly, but with no compunction, and without
even glancing toward Mrs. Burton’s door as if she were fearful of
interruption. She really scarcely appeared to appreciate the fact that
one did not read a note addressed to another person without that person’s
consent. Later she grew more absorbed.
But to understand the young girl’s apparent lack of principle, one needs
to know something of her history and also of the state of mind which her
stay in Miss Patricia Lord’s household had engendered.
Julie’s mother had died when she was a baby; after a careless fashion she
had been brought up by her father, who was a Bohemian and ne’er-do-well.
Never for any length of time had her father worked long at any task, or
Julie been sure of sufficient food. But always she had shared her
father’s confidence and a certain shallow affection and had never
criticized or reproached him. Indeed, he was the only person for whom she
had ever cared until after her father’s death when she had first learned
to know Marguerite Arnot.
When war was declared, Robert Dupont, Julie’s father, had gone off to
fight and had been killed in so gallant a manner at Verdun, that one must
forgive his weaknesses.
Yet can one ever escape the consequence of weakness? Julie had been left
behind, without training, without a natural sense of honor, to repeat his
mistakes, unless some one would help her to a new ideal of life. So far
there had been no such influence for good in the young French girl’s
life.
Marguerite Arnot, Julie cared for devotedly, nevertheless, although this
may not have appeared upon the surface, of the two girls Julie Dupont
possessed the stronger nature.
Meeting by chance in the tiny hall between their two apartments in the
old house in Paris, it was Julie who had first made the advances. It was
Julie who had done more for Marguerite’s happiness and comfort than the
older girl had done for her. Instinctively Julie had recognized that
while Marguerite was beautiful and gentle, she was not strong and needed
some one to care for her. And Julie had always cared for her father;
after his death her strong, clever, but misguided nature had really
required some one upon whom she could lavish her affection.
In her friendship with Marguerite Arnot, Julie’s dreams of the future,
absurd and fanciful as dreams often are, were always for Marguerite’s
future and not for her own. Believing Marguerite beautiful and charming
enough for the most fortunate experience, and yet without the ability to
fight for herself, Julie had come to regard herself in the light of
Marguerite’s fairy godmother. As soon as possible she must manage to
rescue her from the hardships of her present life. Marguerite was
nineteen and sufficiently old for a change in her fortune. Yet Julie’s
romantic promptings toward arranging for her friend’s future were of the
vaguest character, until her visit in Miss Patricia’s home and her
meeting with David Hale.
She had not dared speak of her dream openly to any one, least of all to
Marguerite Arnot. Yet daily as she sat at her sewing Julie had
entertained herself with the thought of Marguerite and David Hale
learning to care for each other and the happy future they might spend
together.
There had been no foundation for her fancy beyond the fact that David had
seemed interested to talk to Marguerite and had admired her beauty and
gentle manners. However, Julie knew nothing of the frank and friendly
attitude which is a matter of course between young people in the United
States. Her only annoyance was, that David Hale appeared equally
interested in Bettina Graham.
After reading Bettina’s note, instantly Julie decided that Bettina and
David Hale must not visit the Queen’s garden unless Marguerite Arnot
accompanied them. The fact that Marguerite had not been invited might
have appeared as an obstacle to most persons, but not to Julie.
Her plan was conceived at once undeterred by the necessity for falsehood.
She would go and tell Marguerite Arnot that Bettina and David Hale
desired her to join them for the afternoon’s expedition to the Queen’s
secret garden at Versailles.
Julie Arnot was a student of human nature. Discovering that Marguerite
believed herself to have been invited and was eager for the pleasure,
neither Bettina nor David would be sufficiently unkind to reveal the
truth.