Brenda's Ward Part 43

"Of course I won't fall in with all of Carlotta's plans; if I did she'd keep me busy from morning to night. But I got into college without conditions--and that reminds me--Miss Martine Stratford--I heard you complaining the other day about your Cicero, and so, if you are not too lazy, I will come to you two or three times a week to read Latin with you. We'll make the orations fly like hot-cakes, and Carlotta will be more infuriated than ever that I have something to do that will keep me from trotting around after her."

"If that's your motive, I refuse to be helped."

"You ought to be very grateful, for in general I don't approve of a girl's going to college, and I understand it's because you have college in view that you wish to skip on with your Latin. But it's only because I think college won't spoil you that I consent to give you the benefit of my knowledge," and Herbert a.s.sumed a pompous air that greatly amused Martine. Thus it happened that a day or two after Elinor left York, Herbert entered on his self-appointed office of tutor. Mrs. Stratford had made no objection when Martine told her of Herbert's plan. She had known Herbert for a long time, and she understood some of the difficulties of his home surroundings. Carlotta and he were so unlike in temperament, that they were constantly at swords' points, and Mrs.

Brownville was so absorbed in her own narrow interests that she had never found time to study her children.

Mrs. Stratford realized that Martine could do more for Herbert than he for her, as he never resented the sisterly advice that she bestowed on him.

Carlotta was the only one who seemed to object to Herbert's new occupation. She teased him unmercifully, and showed an inclination to snub Martine. The two girls, fortunately, did not meet often, for Martine had little part in the gayeties of August, while Carlotta was a leader of the younger set.

Carlotta, had she been so disposed, might have done much for Martine. On the other hand, Martine, with a little effort, could have shared in the pleasures of the young people of her own age. At last her mother remonstrated with her for holding herself aloof from those who were pleasantly disposed to her.

But Martine was firm.

"No, mother, I can't serve two masters. The summer has been flying away, and I haven't accomplished half that I had hoped to. I shan't dare to look Priscilla in the face if I haven't made up all that Latin. Then I shouldn't have a really good time if I 'mingled' more, as Angelina suggests. People here are cliquey, and Carlotta and Peggy are the only girls in the crowd that I've ever known before. Peggy is a regular will-o'-the-wisp, and Carlotta and I never could be intimate."

"But still--" began Mrs. Stratford.

"But still," echoed Martine, "you seem to forget, mother dear, that we came here to save money--and everything costs so much--and I don't want to spend my poor little allowance on dress and excursions, and sometimes I feel pretty blue, and until we know from Lucian how father really is, I couldn't plunge into things. There wouldn't be any half way with me; if I should begin to 'go,' I would just have to go all the time."

Here Martine stopped for sheer want of breath. But her mother, watching her closely, wondered if she really understood herself. Yet Martine was sincere. It was only when she heard of some particularly pleasant thing that she felt left out. A moonlight sail, an all-day picnic up the river, an excursion to Agamenticus, all seemed to her as she heard of them more delightful affairs than they actually were to those who took part in them.

Before Herbert and Clare, Martine maintained her Spartan indifference, even when they talked of their own experiences in a well-meant effort to make her express a desire to go with them on their next expedition.

But nothing could weaken Martine's determination to lead a quiet life.

"It isn't as if I never had had any fun, or never should have any more,"

she wrote to Priscilla, "but even as it is I believe I have been running about too much. For the next few weeks I mean to be quiet as a dormouse, and two pages of Latin a day will keep me pretty busy. You see, Prissie, if papa really has lost all his money, I shall want to earn my living at once. I never could be dependent on my relations, and Lucian will have all he can do for the next few years. Oh, how different this summer is from last, when I almost felt as if I owned the world, though I hope I didn't show it. Of course we are very comfortable here. The house is small, but we brought enough of our own things to make it homelike, and Angelina does pretty well, though I have to help out with things sometimes. We have radishes and peas and a few tomato plants in the kitchen garden, but the rest of the place is all in gra.s.s, except the flower garden, and that would do your heart good. There are all kinds of old-fas.h.i.+oned things that you would love. They have grown up in the wildest way, and I am kept very busy weeding the flowers as well as the vegetables. Now, Prissie, before we leave York you must make us a visit.

Mother and I both want you, and York will suit you to a T. The summer people make it livelier than Plymouth, but there are enough queer old houses to make you feel quite at home. You'd enjoy the graveyard opposite the church. It is shaded with ancient trees, and every one browses around there at least once. The funniest stone that I saw there was Father Moody's; he was the father of Handkerchief Moody. The inscription is just what you might expect from a thrifty New Englander.

I wonder more haven't tried the same thing. Instead of having a long inscription put on he just gave the chapter and verse, 2 Corinthians, III, 1-6, so that any one interested could read. I am sorry to say I haven't yet had time. There's another thing that might amuse you. There are a lot of little cottages down by the Long Beach beyond the harbor.

They look as if they were made of cardboard, painted in bright colors, and have fancy names like 'Sea-crest' and 'Harbor View.' Well, the other day on our way to Cape Neddock, I noticed one called Gorgeana, and I thought the owners had given it this name because they meant to enjoy themselves by eating all they could, or gorging.

"I was awfully snubbed by Herbert when I asked him if it wasn't a shame for people to advertise their greediness. He laughed well at me when he reminded me that the name was in honor of Gorges, the founder of York, a fact which I really ought to have remembered, for of course I knew it.

"You need not be jealous of Clare, as you suggest. It is certainly pleasant to have a congenial girl so near. But she never could take your place--never in the world.

"She is something like you, however, quiet and dignified, and fond of history. Mrs. Ethridge is great fun, and would be good company for mother, except that she plays bridge from morning till night.

"You haven't told me what you think of my rescue, and of Balfour and the burglar. I wrote you a few days ago.

"I had a letter from Brenda last week. Isn't it wonderful that she should find time to think of me when she is so far away. She is delighted because all the family are with her now, and they are to be in San Rafael the rest of the summer.

"She is not sure whether she will be in Boston next winter. How I wish we might have her apartment again. But we can't tell what we shall do until father and Lucian return. She says she would like to be with me one winter, to be sure that I really deserve to be called her ward."

Then, with messages to Mrs. Danforth and the children, Martine concluded her letter.

It brought a quick reply, in which Priscilla laughed at Martine for her two rescues--if one can be said to laugh in a letter.

"For an independent person it seems to me that you succeed in getting rescued from extreme danger pretty often. Balfour, in the fog last summer, had the easier time I should say, and I only hope that he and Herbert Brownville may not come to blows in trying to decide which is the greater hero.

"If I am called on to help to decide, I should have to decide against Balfour, for you could not be half as much lost on a horse as in a boat."

Although Priscilla was correct in her diagnosis of the different kinds of dangers, Balfour and Herbert gave no signs of coming to blows on the subject of their prowess. On the contrary, they showed an inclination to be very good friends. As Balfour's time was so fully occupied with his duties, Herbert acquired the habit of taking long rides on the cars.

Then at the end of the route, or when waiting at turn-outs, he and Balfour had chances for the s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation in which boys find more pleasure than girls.

Carlotta was as little pleased with Herbert's intimacy with Balfour, as with his interest in Martine's Latin. It might not be fair to say that she wished to keep her brother entirely under her thumb, and yet it annoyed her that he was so much less amenable to her than formerly. She liked to feel that he was ready to come and go as she wished. She especially needed him to help entertain her visitors, of whom she usually had two or three staying in the house.

Now it happened one evening that Martine reading a Boston newspaper came upon something that excited her mightily.

"O, mamma," she exclaimed, "Only think! Mrs. Dundonald is coming here--just listen; Mrs. Dundonald, the well-known artist, pa.s.sed through Boston to-day on her way to York Harbor where she is to spend a few days with friends."

"Well, my dear, what of it?" responded Mrs. Stratford.

"Oh, you know how I admire Mrs. Dundonald's work. She does exactly the kind of thing I should like to do, and they say she is perfectly charming. To think she is coming here! Oh, I do hope we shall meet her!"

Then Martine paused suddenly, remembering that for the present she and her mother were not likely to meet any distinguished stranger visiting York. From Clare she learned the next day that Mrs. Dundonald was staying with Miss Stark, an elderly lady whose house was next that of the Brownvilles'. Clare offered to take Martine to call on Miss Stark and Mrs. Dundonald, but Martine hesitated because she had heard that Miss Stark was a rigid upholder of formal etiquette.

"I have had one or two little snubs," she said, "and I should hate to be treated with scorn because I had made the first call on an older woman."

"There is no danger of that," replied Clare, "but still, there will probably be some other way, for you ought to have a chance to meet Mrs.

Dundonald."

Just at this time Herbert happened to be away on a short yachting trip, so that Martine could not tell him of her desire. The Brownvilles were cousins as well as neighbors of Miss Stark's, and had Herbert been at home he could easily have arranged a meeting between Martine and the artist.

"Martine," said Clare a day after their conversation about Miss Stark and her guest, "I saw Carlotta at the beach this morning and I told her how anxious you were to meet Mrs. Dundonald. She knows her very well, and--"

"She didn't promise to introduce me immediately?"

Martine's tone was sarcastic. She knew very well that Carlotta would hardly exert herself to do her a favor. The girls were seated on Mrs.

Ethridge's piazza at this moment, and before Clare could reply to Martine, the maid handed her a note that had come by special messenger.

Martine watched her friend as she read, and noticed that she made no comment as she slipped the note back in its envelope. Then for a few moments neither girl spoke. Martine had recognized the man who had given the note to the maid. He was one of the Brownvilles' coachmen.

"Martine," said Clare, at length, "Carlotta is giving a large stand-up luncheon for Mrs. Dundonald the day after to-morrow. It is just to let the girls here at York have a chance to meet her. Of course you will find your invitation when you go home."

"Perhaps," replied Martine, and this word found an echo in Clare's heart.

When Martine returned home she found no invitation from Carlotta, nor did one come before the luncheon. Strange as it may seem, in view of Martine's repeated declaration that she hated formal festivities in summer, she felt aggrieved that Carlotta had left her out.

"Perhaps Carlotta has heard you express yourself. You know my dear, you have been a little scornful about the doings of the younger set."

"Oh, no, mamma, I have seldom taken the trouble to express my opinions to Carlotta. Besides, she knows I am anxious to meet Mrs. Dundonald.

Unluckily Clare has told her this, so my snubbing is all the harder to bear."

Nor was Martine's disappointment lessened by the fact that Clare gave up the luncheon. "You might as well have gone," she said. "It is all the worse for me to know that I have kept you out of something you would have enjoyed."

"But I have met so many artists," replied Clare, smiling, "that one more or less makes little difference to me. You know I do not care for crowds, and although Carlotta speaks of this luncheon as 'small,' I know there will be a crush. I'd much rather go off somewhere with you for the day. Cousin Mary has been urging me to come over to Portsmouth for the day. She would love to see you too. Let us go to-morrow; it will be much more fun than Carlotta's luncheon."

But when to-morrow came, a strange thing happened. By some means known only to her, Angelina had heard that a man had been arrested in Portsmouth for breaking and entering a little shop.