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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/36105-8.txt b/36105-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5fa03a --- /dev/null +++ b/36105-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7770 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hope Benham, by Nora Perry + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Hope Benham + A Story for Girls + +Author: Nora Perry + +Release Date: May 14, 2011 [EBook #36105] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPE BENHAM *** + + + + +Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + HOPE BENHAM. + + A Story for Girls. + + By NORA PERRY + +AUTHOR OF "LYRICS AND LEGENDS," "ANOTHER FLOCK OF GIRLS," "A ROSEBUD +GARDEN OF GIRLS," ETC. + + + Illustrated by + FRANK T. MERRILL. + + BOSTON: + LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + _Copyright, 1894_, + BY NORA PERRY. + + Printers + S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. + + +[Illustration: "TEN CENTS A BUNCH"] + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + +"TEN CENTS A BUNCH" + +"HE LIFTED THE BOW AND DREW IT ACROSS THE STRINGS" + +"SHE TOOK HOPE'S VIOLIN FROM HER HANDS" + +"IT WAS THE WORK OF A MOMENT TO POSSESS HERSELF OF THE BOOK" + +"HOW DE DO, HOPE?" + +"SHE STOOD THERE AN IMAGE OF GRACE, HER CHIN BENT LOVINGLY DOWN TO HER +VIOLIN" + +"DON'T, DON'T GO" + +"HOPE KNELT DOWN BY THE COUCH WHERE DOROTHEA HAD FLUNG HERSELF" + + + + +HOPE BENHAM. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +"Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" + +A party of three young girls coming briskly around the southwest corner +of the smart little Brookside station, hearing this call, turned, then +stopped, then exclaimed all together,-- + +"Oh, how perfectly lovely! the first I have seen. Just what I want!" and +they pulled out their purses to buy "just what they wanted," just what +everybody wants,--a bunch of trailing arbutus. + +"And they are made up so prettily, without all that stiff arbor-vitæ +framing. What is this dear little leafy border?" asked one of the young +ladies, glancing up from her contemplation of the flowers to the +flower-seller. + +"It's the partridge-berry leaf." + +"Oh! and you picked them all yourself,--the arbutus and this +partridge-berry leaf?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh!" repeated the young lady, giving a stare at the little +flower-seller,--a stare that was quickly followed by another question,-- + +"Do you live near here?" + +"Yes; very near." + +"But you don't find this arbutus in Brookside?" + +"No, in Riverview." + +"In Riverview! why, I didn't know that the arbutus grew so near Boston +as that." + + +"We have always found a little in Riverview woods, but this year there +is quite a large quantity." + +Riverview was the next station to Brookside. In Riverview were +manufactories, locomotives, and iron-works, and in Riverview lived the +people who worked in these manufactories. But in Brookside were only +fine suburban residences, and a few handsome public buildings, for in +Brookside lived the owners of the manufactories and other rich folk, who +liked to be out of the smoke and grime of toil. The railroad station of +Brookside, as contrasted with that of Riverview, showed the difference +in the residents of the two places; for the Brookside station was a fine +and elegant stone structure, suited to fine and elegant folk, and the +Riverview station was just a plain little wooden building, hardly more +than a platform and a shelter. + +"But you don't live in Riverview, do you?" was the next question the +young lady asked of the flower-seller, about whom she seemed to have a +great deal of curiosity. + +"Yes; I live in Riverview," was the answer, with an upward glance of +surprise at the questioner and the question. Why should the young lady +question her in that tone, when she said, "But you don't live in +Riverview?" + +The next question was more easily understood. + +"You come over to the Brookside station to sell your flowers, don't you, +because there are likely to be more buyers here?" + +"Oh, yes; I couldn't sell them at Riverview." + +Just then other voices were heard, and other people began to gather +about the flower-seller, who from that time was kept busy until the +train approached. As the cars moved away from the station, the young +lady who had been so curious looked out of the window, and then said to +her companions,-- + +"She has sold every bunch." + +"What? Oh, that flower-girl! Why in the world were you so interested in +her?" one of the girls asked wonderingly. + +"Why? Did you look at her?" + +"I can't say that I did, particularly. What was there peculiar about +her?" + +"Nothing. Only she didn't look like a poor child,--a common child, you +know, who would sell things on the street. She was very prettily and +neatly dressed, and she spoke just like--well, just like any +well-brought-up little girl." + +"Did she?" politely remarked her friend, in an absent way. She was not +in the least interested in this flower-girl. Her thoughts were turning +in a very different direction,--the direction of her spring shopping, a +gay little party, and a dozen other kindred subjects. + +In the mean time the little flower-seller, with a light basket and a +lighter heart, was waiting for the down train. It was only a mile from +Brookside to Riverview, an easy walk for a strong, sturdy girl of ten; +but all the same, this strong, sturdy girl of ten preferred to ride, and +you will see why presently. The down or out-going train from Boston +passes the in-going train a short distance from Brookside, and she had +only five minutes to wait for it. This five minutes was very happily +employed in mentally counting up her sales, as she walked to and fro +upon the platform. She had brought twenty bunches of arbutus in her +basket, and she had sold every one. Twenty bunches at ten cents a bunch +made two dollars. She gave a little hop, skip, and jump, as she thought +of this sum. + +Two dollars! Now, if she should go again this very afternoon to the +Riverview woods and gather a new supply, she might come back to +Brookside and be ready when the 5.30 train brought people home from the +city. So many people drove down to the station then to meet their +husbands or fathers or brothers,--ladies and children too. It would be +just the very best hour of all to sell flowers. Yes, she would certainly +do it. It was only half-past one. She would have ample time, and then +perhaps she would double--Cling-a-ling-a-ling, went the electric +announcement of the coming train, and pouf, pouf, pouf, comes the train +down the line, and there is her father looking out for her from the +engine cab. He nods and smiles to her, and in another minute she has +been helped up, and is standing beside him. + +"Well, Hope, how did the flowers go?" + +"I sold them all,--twenty bunches. Now!" The last word was thrown out as +a joyful exclamation of triumph. Her father laughed a little. "And, +father, I want to go to the woods again this afternoon for more flowers, +and come back here for the 5.30 train,--there's such lots of people on +that train." + +The father looked grave. + +"Oh, do let me, please!" + +"I don't like to have you hanging around a station so much." + +"But Brookside is different from a great many stations. There are no +rough people ever about;" and with a brisk little air, "It's business, +you see." + +Mr. Benham laughed again, as he said, "Two dollars a day is pretty good +business, I should think." + +"But it won't last long,--only this vacation week. 'T isn't as if I were +going to make two dollars every day all through the season." + +"That is true. Well, go ahead and 'make hay while the sun shines.' +You'll be a better business fellow than your father if you keep on. But +here we are at Riverview. Mind, now, that you leave Brookside to-night +on the six o'clock train, no matter whether you've sold your flowers or +not." + +"Yes, sir." There was a joyful sound in this "Yes, sir," and a happy +upward look at her father, which he did not catch, however, for not once +did his eyes move from their steady watchfulness of the road before him. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +"There he comes!" and Hope ran forward out of the little garden to meet +her father, as he came down the street, while her mother turned from the +door where she had been waiting and watching with Hope, and went back +into the tiny dining-room to put a few finishing-touches to the +supper-table. Mr. Benham nodded as he caught sight of Hope. Then he +called out,-- + +"How's business?" + +"Two dollars more!" + +"Well, well, you'll be a big capitalist soon at this rate, and grind the +poor." + +"Poor engineers like John Benham!" and Hope laughed gleefully at their +joint joke. + +"Yes, poor engineers like John Benham, who have extravagant daughters +who want to buy violins. But, Hope, you mustn't get your thoughts so +fixed on this violin business that you can't think of anything else. +Your school, you know, begins next week." + +"Yes, I know. I sha'n't neglect that. I wouldn't get marked down for +anything." + +"You're going to learn to be a teacher, you know; keep that in mind." + +"I do; I do. Oh, father dear, don't worry about the music! 'All work and +no play makes Jack a dull boy,' you said the other day. Now, music is my +play. Some of the girls in my classes go to dancing-school, and do lots +of things to amuse themselves. They don't seem to neglect their lessons, +and why should I, with just this one thing outside, that I like to do?" + +There was a twinkle in John Benham's eyes, as he looked down at his +daughter. + +"Who taught you to argue, Hope?" + +"A poor engineer named John Benham," answered Hope, as quick as a flash. + +John Benham laughed outright at this quick retort; and as he opened the +gate that led into the little garden in front of his house, he put his +arm over his daughter's shoulder, and thus affectionately side by side +they walked along the narrow pathway. They were great friends, he and +Hope. He used to tell her that as she was an only child, she must be son +and daughter too, and he had very early got into the habit of talking to +her in a confidential fashion that had the effect of making her a sort +of little comrade from the first. + +The young lady who had wondered at the little flower-seller's looking +and speaking just like any other well-brought-up little girl would have +had further cause for wonder if she could have followed the engineer and +his daughter into their home, and seen the good taste of its pretty +though inexpensive furnishing and arrangements. Locomotive engineers +were unknown persons to this young lady. They belonged to the +laboring-class; and that in her mind included all mechanical workers, +from the skilled artisan to the ignorant hod-carrier and wielder of pick +and shovel. She knew that the latter lived poorly, in poor quarters, +crowded tenement houses, or shabby little frame cottages or cabins of +two or three rooms. As the difference in the different work did not +occur to her, neither did the possible difference in the manner of +living. + +There are older people than this young lady, this pretty Mary Dering, +who are almost as unintelligent about the workers of the world, and they +would have been almost as astonished as she, not only at the good taste +of the simple furnishings, but at the signs of intelligent thought in +the collection of books and magazines on the table. If pretty Mary +Dering, however, could have seen all these things, she would not have +wondered so much at Hope's speaking and looking like any well-brought-up +little girl. + +Hope _was_ a well-brought-up little girl, as you will see,--as well +brought up as Mary herself, or Mary's sister Dolly, who was just Hope's +age. If you had said this to Mary Dering, she would have told you that +she could not imagine a well-brought-up child selling things on the +street. Dolly would never have been allowed to stand in public places +and cry, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" under any +circumstances. But Mary did not know how much circumstances altered +cases; and for one thing, if she _could_ have seen Dolly in Hope's place +for one half-hour, she would have had to own that Hope was much the +better behaved of the two, for in spite of Dolly's bringing up, she was +the greatest little rattler in public places, calling down upon herself +this constant remonstrance from each one of her family, "Now, Dolly, do +try to be quiet, like a lady!" + +"But why, why, _why_," you ask, "did Hope, with such a nice, intelligent +father, who could buy all those magazines and books,--why did she need +to earn the money herself, to buy a violin?" + +I'll tell you. To begin with, all those books and magazines were not +bought by Mr. Benham; they were, with one or two exceptions, taken from +the Boston Public Library. Mr. Benham's salary was only fifteen hundred +dollars a year, and it took every cent of this to keep up that simple +little home, and put by a sum every week for a rainy day. + +Hope loved music, and she loved the music of a violin beyond any other +kind. One day when she was in Boston, she saw the dearest little violin +in a shop-window. What possessed her I don't know, for she knew she +hadn't a penny in the world; but she went in and asked the price of it +with the easiest air imaginable. + +"Twenty-five dollars," the shopkeeper told her. + +"Oh!" and Hope drew in her breath. Twenty-five dollars! It might as well +have been twenty-five thousand dollars, for all the possibility of her +possessing it. + +"Don't--don't they have cheaper ones?" she asked timidly. + +"They have things they _call_ violins for ten, fifteen, twenty dollars, +but they'd crack your ears. If you're going to learn to play, this is a +good little fiddle for you to begin with, for it's true and sweet;" and +the shopkeeper lifted it up and drew the bow across the strings, in a +melodious, rippling strain that went to Hope's heart. + +The man thought that she was going to take lessons; and she could, if +she only had an instrument, for Mr. Kolb, an old German neighbor of +theirs, who had once been the first violin in a famous orchestra, had +said to her more than once when she had listened to his playing with +delight: "Some day your fader will puy you a little violin, and I will +teach you for notting, Mädchen; you have such true lofe for music." + +But twenty-five dollars! Oh, no! it could never be! and Hope went out of +the shop with her plans laid low. + +A few minutes later, as she was walking to the station, she heard a +boy's voice, crying, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" + +She looked up, and saw that he held some very meagre little nosegays of +arbutus,--meagre, that is, as to the arbutus, but made sizable by the +border of stiff arbor-vitæ. Then, all at once, the thought flashed into +her mind. Why shouldn't she turn flower-seller? She knew where the +arbutus grew thick, thick; and why, why--There was no putting the rest +of her thoughts into words; but right there on the street she gave a +little jump, and hummed the rippling strain she had just heard drawn +from the good little fiddle. + +Twenty-five dollars! What was that now with "Ten cents a bunch! ten +cents a bunch!" ringing in her ears with such alluring possibilities? + +Mr. Benham at first would not hear to the flower-selling plan; but when +he saw that Hope's heart was set upon that "good little fiddle," when he +heard her say to her mother, "If father can't buy the fiddle for me, it +seems to me he might let me try to buy it for myself," he began to +relent; and when the mother and he had a talk, and the mother said, "Of +course you can't afford to buy it, John, for we are a little behind now, +with your and my winter suits, and the new range to pay for yet; but as +I really think it will be a good thing for Hope to learn to play the +violin, I don't see why it wouldn't be a good thing for her to earn it +herself," he relented still more, and when the mother said further, in +answer to his objections to having Hope hanging around in public places, +as a little peddler, "John, you can trust Hope; she is a sensible +child," he relented entirely; and the next week after, Hope entered upon +her business as a flower-seller. + +The success of that first day was a surprise to her father, and he +warned her not to expect anything like it on the succeeding days, +telling her that the weather would very likely turn chilly and rainy, +that fewer people might be going and coming from town, and that even +these might not stop to buy flowers. He did not want to discourage her; +he simply wanted to prepare her for disappointment. But Hope was not +doomed to disappointment in this direction. The succeeding days proved +both pleasant and profitable; especially profitable were Wednesday and +Saturday afternoons, when so many ladies went in to the matinée +performances. Yet with all this success, this pleasantness of weather, +and steady increase in her sales, there was something very _un_pleasant +for Hope to bear,--something that she had not in the least looked for, +because she had never before met with anything like it. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +It was on Wednesday that a little party of girls came hurrying into the +Brookside station, as if they had not a minute to lose, when one of them +exclaimed: "Why, our train has gone; look at that!" pointing to the +indicator. "The next train goes at 1.40. We shall have only twenty +minutes to get from the Boston station to the Museum." + +"Time enough," answered Mary Dering; "we always go too early. But +there's our little girl. We shall have ample opportunity now to buy all +the flowers we want. Dolly," to her younger sister, who was marching up +and down the platform with a friend of her own age, "Dolly, don't you +want to buy some flowers?" + +"Flowers? Oh, yes!" and Dolly came racing up, calling out in a loud +whisper, as she joined the group, "Say, Mary, is that your wonderful +flower-girl?" + +"Hush, Dolly; don't!" + +"Don't what?" + +"Don't whisper so loudly; she can hear you." + +Dolly laughed. "What if she does? I didn't say anything that wasn't +nice." + +The group of girls pressed around Hope, and bought lavishly of her +stock. Dolly and her friend Lily Styles were the latest of the buyers, +for coming up last they were on the outside of the group. As they stood +alone with Hope, they picked and pecked first at one bouquet, and then +another. This was fuller, and that was bigger, and still another was +prettier and pinker. At last they made a choice, and Hope breathed a +sigh of relief at the thought that now her exacting purchasers would +leave her to herself. But Dolly Dering had no notion of leaving Hope to +herself. No sooner was the purchase concluded than Miss Dolly, lifting +her big black eyes with a curious gaze to Hope's face, asked abruptly,-- + +"Do you like to sell flowers on the street?" + +Hope flushed hotly. "I don't sell flowers on the street." + +"Well, in a station, then. I should think that was just the same as on +the street; it's out-of-doors in a public place." + +Hope made no further reply. She would have moved away if she could have +done so easily, but the two girls stood directly in front of her, +completely shutting her into her corner. Perhaps, however, they would go +away if she busied herself with her flowers, and she began to re-arrange +and spray them with water. But Dolly, at sight of this operation, began +with fresh interest, "Oh! is that the way you keep 'em fresh? How nice! +let me try it, do!" and before Hope could say "yes" or "no," she had +seized the sprayer out of her hands. Her first effort, instead of +benefiting the flowers, sent a sharp little sprinkle directly against +Hope's light cloth jacket. Hope started back with an exclamation of +dismay. + +"Oh, it won't hurt it!" cried Dolly. Then, as she saw Hope rubbing the +wet place with her handkerchief, she asked, "Will your mother punish you +if she finds the jacket spotted?" + +"Punish me?" exclaimed Hope, looking up at the questioner. + +"Yes, punish you; whip you, perhaps." + +"My mother--whip me?" ejaculated Hope, staring at Dolly, as if she +thought her out of her mind. + +"Yes, whip you; I didn't know--" + +"Would _your_ mother whip _you_ if you got spots on _your_ jacket?" +inquired Hope, in a sharp, indignant voice. + +"_My_ mother? No." + +"Then why should you think _my_ mother would whip _me_?" + +Dolly was not a very sensitive young person, but she could not blurt out +exactly what was in her mind,--that she thought all poor people, +working-people, whipped their children when they offended them in any +way. Her ideas of poor people were very vague, and gathered partly from +the talk of her elders about the North End poor that the Associated +Charities assisted. In this talk a word now and then concerning the +careless way in which these people beat their children for the slightest +offence impressed her more than anything. Then Bridget Kelly, who had +been Dolly's nurse, had often related stories of her own childish +naughtinesses, for her--Dolly's--benefit, and she had almost invariably +wound up these stories with the remark, "And didn't my mother beat me +well for being such a bad girl!" + +Dolly had put this and that together, and come to the conclusion that +poor people were all alike,--a good deal as her sister had included all +mechanical workers together. But if Miss Dolly couldn't blurt out all +that was in her mind, she had very little tact of concealment, and when +she replied to Hope's question something about people's being different, +and that she knew that some people beat their children for doing things +they didn't like them to do, she unwittingly made things quite clear +enough to Hope, with her fine, keen intelligence, so clear that she +comprehended at once the whole state of the case. What would have +happened when this moment of comprehension suddenly came to Hope, what +she would have said if there had been time to say anything, it is +needless to conjecture, for there wasn't an instant of time for a word, +as at that very moment, pouf, pouf, pouf, the train steamed into the +station, and Dolly Dering and her friend Lily ran scampering down the +platform. + +Hope looked after them, with eyes blinded by hot, angry tears. The last +few minutes had been a revelation to her of the thoughtless +misunderstandings of the world. To think that she--Hope Benham--should +be ranked with that vast ignorant class of "poor people" who "lived +anyhow," all because she was selling flowers in a public place! "They +might have known better, if they had any sense; they might have known at +a glance!" And with this indignant thought, Hope went into the ladies' +waiting-room, and surveyed herself in the mirror that hung there. What +did she see? A bright-faced girl, clean and fresh, with neatly braided +hair; clothed in a little fawn-colored jacket, a brown dress, and with a +pretty plain brown felt hat upon her head. To be sure, she wore no +gloves; but her hands were nicely kept, the nails well cut and rosily +clean. To mix her up with poor people who "lived anyhow"! Perhaps they +fancied, those girls, that the fawn-colored jacket and the brown dress +and the hat were given to her,--gifts of charity! Yes, that was what +they fancied, of course. They had talked her over. "Is that your +wonderful flower-girl?" she had overheard the younger girl say to the +older. She had been called this because she was dressed decently, +because she behaved herself decently. They couldn't understand--these +rich people--how any one who sold flowers, who sold anything--_on the +street_--yes, that was what they called it--could be decent. Oh, it was +they who were ignorant,--these rich people! They didn't know anything +about other people's lives,--other people who were not rich like +themselves. + +Hope's little purse was full of shining silver pieces as she went back +to Riverview, but her heart was fuller of bitterness. + +"You look tired, Hope," said her mother, anxiously, as Hope walked into +the house. But Hope declared that she was not in the least tired, that +it was only the tiresomeness of some of her customers,--fussy folk, who +picked and pecked and asked questions. Not a word more did she say. She +was not going to worry her mother, hurt her feelings as hers had been +hurt with the foolish, ignorant talk of those foolish, ignorant, rich +girls,--not she! So she comforted herself by counting up her silver +pieces, and reckoning how much nearer she was to the "good little +fiddle." She tried to keep the little fiddle and the sweet strain the +shopkeeper had drawn from it, continually in her mind, as she stood in +the station again that night on the arrival of the 5.30 train. The good +little fiddle, with the sweet strain, should be the shield against +tormenting questioners and questions. But she was not to be tormented +that night by any one. + +Dolly Dering did not even look at her, as she skipped by. Dolly was too +eager to secure a place beside her father on the front seat of the +carriage, as they drove home, to see or think about anything else. Even +Mary Dering did not find time, as she went by, to cast an interested +glance towards that "wonderful flower-girl." There were plenty of +purchasers, however, without the little matinée group,--ladies and +gentlemen just returning from shopping or business,--plenty of +purchasers; and Hope went home with only the sweet sense of success +stirring at her heart,--a success unalloyed by any new bitterness. She +had not needed a shield against tormentors. Thursday and Friday were +equally pleasant and fairly profitable. Saturday would, of course, be +the best day of all, and bring her sales up to almost if not quite the +desired amount. But she dreaded Saturday, for she was quite sure that +"that girl" would be at the station, and she could not help keeping a +nervous look-out from the moment she took her stand in her chosen +corner. The 12.35, the 1, and the 1.15 trains, however, went in, and +Dolly was not to be seen. If she was not on the 1.40 train, there was +little danger, Hope thought, that she would be there at all, for the +1.40 was the last early afternoon train. The next was 3.30, and Hope +would be back at Riverview by that time, preparing another stock of +flowers for her 5.30 sale. Just before the 1.40 steamed in, Hope heard a +gay chatter of voices. There she was! But no; a glance at the party +sufficed to show that Dolly Dering was not one of the party, and Hope +drew a deep breath of relief. The week would end without further +annoyance, and with _such_ a heap of bright silver pieces. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Forgetful of everything disagreeable, Hope stood in her corner for the +last time, softly humming the sweet little strain she had heard from the +good little fiddle. She was earlier than usual,--ten, fifteen minutes +earlier. "Tum, tum, ti tum," she was softly humming, when-- + +"Do you stay here all day?" asked a clear, confident voice. She turned +her head, and there stood that girl,--Dolly Dering. + +"No," answered Hope, politely, to this question, but with a coldness and +distance of manner that was meant to check all further questioning. But +Dolly Dering wasn't easily checked. + +"My sister says that you live in Riverview, and that you get your +flowers in Riverview woods," was her next questioning remark. + +"Yes." + +"What other kinds of flowers are you going to sell when these arbutus +are gone?" + +"I'm not going to sell any." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I--I don't want to." + +"I should think you would. You must make a lot of money." + +No answer. + +"To be sure, I don't suppose you'd make so much with garden flowers, but +there are ever so many kinds of wild flowers coming on by and by, aren't +there?" + +"I suppose so." + +"Perhaps you go to school, do you?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! and this is vacation week at the public schools; that's why you can +be here. I see. What you earn must be a great help, isn't it?" + +Hope's patience and dignity were giving way. She looked up with a fiery +glance. + +"A great help in what?" she asked. + +"Why, why, in your home, you know,--in buying bread and things,--you +know what I mean." + +"Yes, I know what you mean," burst forth Hope. "You mean that you think +because I am selling flowers here in the station that I belong to poor +people, who live anyhow,--poor, ignorant people, who are helped by the +missions and the unions,--poor, ignorant people like those at the North +End." + +Dolly Dering stared with all her might at the flushed, excited face +before her. + +"Why--why--you _are_ poor, aren't you, or you wouldn't be selling things +like this?" she blunderingly asked. + +Hope, in her turn, stared back at Dolly. Then in a vehement, exasperated +tone, she said,-- + +"I didn't think anybody _could_ be so ignorant as you are." + +"I! ignorant! well!" exclaimed Dolly, in astonishment and rising +resentment. + +"Yes, ignorant," went on Hope, recklessly, "or you'd know more about the +difference in people. You'd _see_ the difference. You'd see that I +didn't belong to the kind of poor folks who live any way and anyhow. My +father is John Benham, an engineer on this road, and we have a nice +home, and plenty to eat and drink and to wear,--and books and magazines +and papers," she added, with a sudden instinct that these were the most +convincing proofs of the comfort and respectability of her home. + +"What do you sell flowers on the street for, then, if you are as nice as +all that?" cried Dolly, now thoroughly aroused by Hope's words and +manner. + +"Because I wanted to buy something for myself that my father couldn't +afford to buy. Don't you ever want anything that your father doesn't +feel as if he could buy for you just when you wanted him to?" + +"Well, if I did, I shouldn't be let to go out on the street and peddle +flowers to earn the money," replied Dolly, with what she meant to be +withering emphasis. + +"And I shouldn't be _allowed_ to say 'let to go,' like ignorant North +Enders," retorted Hope, with still more withering emphasis. + +Dolly reddened with mortification and anger; then she said haughtily, "I +don't happen to know as much as you seem to, how ignorant North Enders +talk." + +"No; I told you that you were ignorant, and didn't know the difference +between people." + +"How dare you talk like this to me! You are the most impudent girl I +ever saw," cried Dolly, passionately. + +"Impudent! How did _you_ dare to speak to me as you did,--to ask me +questions? You didn't know me; you never saw me before. You wouldn't +have dared to speak to a girl that you thought was like yourself. But +you thought you could speak to _me_. You needn't be polite to a girl who +was selling things on the street." + +Hope stopped breathless. Her lips were dry; her heart was beating in +hard, quick throbs. As for Dolly she was for the moment silenced, for +Hope had divined the exact state of her mind. Other things, too, had +silenced Dolly for the moment, and these were the evidences of +respectability that Hope had enumerated. She was also faced by these +evidences in Hope's speech and manner, as those fiery but not vulgar +words were poured forth from the dry, tremulous lips; and the effect had +been confusing and disturbing to those fixed ideas about working-people +that had taken root in her--Dolly's--mind. She was not a bad girl at +heart, was this Dolly. She was like a great many people without keen +perception or sensibility, and thoughtless from this very lack. The +youngest of a prosperous family, she had been petted and pampered until +her natural wilfulness and high spirits had made her heedless and +over-confident. She had not meant to insult Hope. She had meant simply +to satisfy her curiosity; and she thought that it was a perfectly proper +thing to satisfy this curiosity about a poor girl who sold flowers on +the street, by asking this girl plain questions, such as she had heard +her mother ask the poor people who came to get work or to beg. But +Hope's plain answers had at first astonished, then angered, then +enlightened her. + +In the little breathless pause that followed Hope's last words, the two +girls regarded each other with a strange mixture of feeling. Hope's +feeling was that of relief tinctured with triumph, for she saw that she +had made an impression upon "that ignorant girl." Dolly, humiliated but +not humble, had a queer struggle with her temper and her sense of +justice. She had been made to see that she was partly, if not wholly, in +the wrong, and that she had wounded Hope to the quick. In another minute +she would have blunderingly made some admission of this,--have said to +Hope that she was sorry if she had hurt her feelings, or something to +that effect,--if Hope herself had not suddenly remarked in a tone of +cold dislike,-- + +"If you are waiting to ask any more questions, I might as well tell you +it's of no use. I sha'n't answer any more; so if you'll please to go +away from this corner and stop staring at me, I shall be much obliged to +you." + +Scarlet with anger, all her better impulses scattered to the winds, +Dolly flashed out,-- + +"You're an ugly, impudent, hateful thing, and I don't care if I _have_ +hurt your feelings, so there!" + +It happened that John Benham had exchanged his hours of work for that +day with a fellow engineer on the 5.30 train that came out from Boston. +Dolly, watching the train as it came to a stop at the Brookside station, +saw something that interested her greatly. It was an exchange of glances +between that "ugly, impudent, hateful thing" and the engineer, as he +stood in his cab. + +"So that is her father, is it,--that smutty workman! She'd better set +herself up and talk about her nice home!" was Dolly's inward comment out +of the wrath that was raging within her. + +"What is the matter with Dolly?" asked Mr. Dering, fifteen minutes +later, as Dolly, red and pouting, and with a fierce little frown +wrinkling her forehead, sat in unusual silence beside him on the front +seat of the carriage. Matter? and Dolly, finding her tongue, poured +forth the story of her grievance. With all her faults, Dolly was not +deceitful or untruthful; and the story she told was remarkably exact, +neither glossing over her own words, nor her humiliating defeat through +Hope's cleverness of speech. + +Mr. Dering seemed to find the whole story very amusing, and at the end +of it laughingly remarked: "I don't think you had the best of it, +Dolly." + +Her mother, from the back seat, was mortified and shocked that Dolly +should have been so vulgar as to quarrel on the street. + +"But Dolly began it by asking such questions," spoke up Mary Dering. +"Dolly is such a rattler. I'm sure that flower-girl would never have +spoken to her first." + +Then Mrs. Dering wanted to know what Mary knew about "that flower-girl," +and Mary described Hope as she had seen her. + +"She said her father was an engineer on this road, did she?" asked Mr. +Dering, turning to Dolly. + +"Yes, papa." + +"It must be John Benham. He is one of the best engineers on this +road,"--Mr. Dering was one of the Directors of the road,--"yes, it must +be Benham. I should think he might have just such a child as that." + +"Why, papa?" asked Mary Dering, leaning forward. + +"Well, because he's a proud sort of fellow, rather short of speech; +doesn't give or take any familiar words. But he's an excellent engineer, +excellent, and is full of intelligent ideas. He saved the road from +quite a loss last year by a suggestion of his. He's always tinkering, +I've been told, on one or another of these ideas,--has quite an +inventive faculty, I believe; and some of these days I suppose he hopes, +as so many of these fellows do, to make a fortune out of some invention. +Hey, what do you say to that, Dolly?" turning from this graver talk, and +pulling one of Dolly's black locks. "What do you say to your impudent +little girl turning into a millionaire's daughter one of these days?" + +"I'd say 'Ten cents a bunch' to her!" cried Dolly, vindictively. + +Mr. Dering flung back his head, and laughed. + +"Do you _really_ think he may make a fortune in that way?" asked Mary, +interestedly. + +"Well, no; really I don't, Mary," her father replied. "Such things don't +happen very frequently. Most skilled mechanics, like Benham, make +inventive experiments in their peculiar line, but it's only one in a +thousand who is a genius at that sort of thing, and produces anything +remarkable or valuable enough to bring them a fortune. Benham is a +clever, industrious fellow, but he isn't a genius; so we won't make a +hero for a story out of him, my dear." And Mr. Dering nodded with a +smile at Mary,--a smile that brought a blush to Mary's cheek, for she +knew that papa was making fun of what he called her sentimentality. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Almost at the very moment that Mr. Dering was asking Dolly what was the +matter, John Benham, speeding along in his cab, was mentally asking the +same question in regard to Hope; for, as he caught that glimpse of her +as the train stopped, he saw at once that something was amiss. There was +a strained, excited look about her eyes, and a hot, uncomfortable color +in her cheeks. Had any one been troubling her? His own color rose at the +thought. Why had he allowed her to take such a position? But, thank +Heaven, this was the last night. Two hours after this he put the +question to Hope in words. What was the matter? + +Hope had not meant to tell. She would be brave and keep her annoyance to +herself. But the suddenness of the question broke down her defences, and +she burst into tears. + +"My dear, my dear, what is it? Who is it that has been troubling you? +There, there!" taking her in his arms, "have your cry out, then tell +father all about it." + +Hope was to the full as honest and truthful as Dolly, and her story was +as exact; but she did not, for she could not, do full justice to Dolly, +from the fact that she had not caught the faintest idea of that good +impulse that she herself had nipped in the bud; and without this impulse +Dolly's share in the story looked pretty black, and John Benham, as he +listened to it, did not laugh, as Mr. Dering had done. It was not +amusing to him to hear how his sweet little daughter had been hurt by +all that impertinent questioning. He saw better than Hope that the +impertinence was not malice, and that the ignorance it proceeded from +was that old ignorance that comes from the selfishness that is born of +long-continued prosperity. In trying to convey something of this to +Hope, and to show her that she must not let her mind get poisoned by +dwelling too much upon the matter, he said,-- + +"Try to put it out of your mind by thinking of something else." + +Hope lifted her head, and a faint smile irradiated her face. + +"I'll push it out with the good little fiddle," she answered. + +"That's my brave little woman!" + +That very night Hope carried her resolve into action by going over to +see Mr. Kolb to arrange for the purchase of the violin. She had told him +at the first, of the shop where she had seen the instrument that had +taken her fancy, and of her flower-selling plan to buy it. + +"Yes, yes; it was a very good shop," he had told her, and the plan was a +very good plan, and some day he would go with her to look at the little +fiddle. + +He was quite astonished, however, when, on Saturday night, she ran in to +tell him that her plan had succeeded so well that she wanted him to go +with her on Monday afternoon to buy the little fiddle. + +"What! you haf all the money?" he asked incredulously. + +"Yes; I earned all but two dollars, and that my father gave me." + +The old German threw out his hands with a gesture of surprise. "Ah! you +little American mädchen," he cried, "you do anything!" + +But when, on Monday afternoon, the two set out on their errand, Hope +began to have a misgiving. Perhaps she had made a mistake. Perhaps, +after all, it wasn't a good little fiddle, and she looked anxiously at +Mr. Kolb when he entered the shop with her, and took the instrument in +his hands, for Mr. Kolb would know all about it. And Mr. Kolb _did_ know +all about it. He knew at the first sight of it; and when he lifted the +bow and drew it across the strings, his eyes were smiling with +approbation. + +[Illustration: "HE LIFTED THE BOW AND DREW IT ACROSS THE STRINGS"] + +"A good fiddle! ach! it is a peautiful little fiddle!" he exclaimed, as +he ceased playing. Then he complimented Hope by saying: "You haf the +musical eye, as well as ear, Mädchen, to put your heart on this little +fiddle, and we shall haf so good a time, you and I, learning to play +it." + +That night, just after supper, Hope took her first lesson. As she tucked +the little fiddle under her chin, and drew the bow uncertainly and +awkwardly across the strings, her heart beat, and her eyes filled with +joyous tears. The little fiddle for the time quite pushed Dolly Dering +and everything connected with her out of her mind. + +While she was thus happily occupied, her father was busily engaged with +what looked like a toy engine. He was tinkering over one of those ideas +of his, that Mr. Dering had spoken of. This particular idea was +something connected with the speed of the locomotive and the economy of +fuel at one and the same time. Two years before, certain improvements in +this direction had been made, but they were not fully successful, +because they did not combine harmoniously,--what was gained in one +direction being partially lost in another. John Benham's idea was to +invent something that should combine so harmoniously that a high rate of +speed could be attainable with a minimum of fuel. + +When he first started to work out this idea, he was quite confident that +he could carry it through to success; but he had been at it now for +months, and the harmonious combination still evaded him. What was it? +What had he missed? Over and over again he would ask himself this +question, and over and over again he would add here or take away there, +and all without achieving the result he desired. So many failures had at +length beaten down his courageous confidence not a little, and he had +begun to think that he must be on the wrong track altogether, and might +as well give up the whole thing. + +He was thinking this very strongly that Monday night when he sat in his +workshop,--a long, low room he had arranged for himself at the end of +the house. The night was warm for the season, and through the open +doorway he could hear the quavering, uncertain scraping of the little +fiddle. + +"Dear little soul!" he thought; "I hope this good time is paying her for +that bad time of hers." + +If he could only have known how thoroughly it was "paying her,"--that at +that moment the bad time was pushed completely out of mind by the good +time! He hoped that she was comforted; that was the most that he +expected. For himself, nothing had put the story she had told him out of +his mind; and while he sat there adjusting and readjusting the little +model, it was half mechanically,--his thought being more occupied with +his child's painful little experience, and all that it suggested to him. +He was not a bitter or a violent man. He did not think that the poor +were always in the right, and the rich always in the wrong in their +relations with each other, as a good many working-people do. No; he was +too intelligent for that. But what he did think, what he _knew_ was, +that the rich were not hampered and hindered by the daily struggle for +existence, for the means to procure food and clothing and shelter from +week to week. He knew that his own abilities were hindered and hampered +by the necessity that compelled him to work almost incessantly for the +necessaries of life. If he could have had only a little of the leisure +of the rich, a little of their money, he could have had constantly at +his hand, not merely the books that he needed, and the time to study +them, but various other ways and opportunities would have been open to +him to follow out his strong taste for mechanical construction. As it +was, he had been obliged to grope along slowly, working at odd times +after his labor of the day, and generally at some disadvantage, either +in the lack of proper tools, or needed books of reference directly at +his hand. All these thoughts bore down upon him that night with greater +force than usual, because of Hope's story; for here it was again in +another direction, that difference between the rich and the poor. And +while he thought these thoughts, scrape, scrape, went Hope's bow across +the strings. + +"Do you hear that, John?" asked Mrs. Benham as she came into the +workshop. + +"Yes, I've been listening to it for some time." There was an absent +expression in John Benham's eyes, as he glanced up. His wife noticed it. + +"You look tired, John. I wouldn't bother over that"--with a nod at the +engine model--"any more." + +"No; I've about made up my mind to give it up. I don't seem to be on the +right track with it, anyhow." + +There was a depressed, discouraged note in the husband's voice that his +wife at once detected. It was a new note for her to hear in that voice. +She regarded him anxiously a moment, and then, smiling, but with a good +deal of real earnestness, said,-- + +"Don't fret about it, John. Hope, maybe, 'll make all our fortunes yet. +Mr. Kolb told me that she had a wonderful ear for music, and would be a +fine performer some day." + +"Fortunes! 't isn't money only, Martha; I hate to give up a thing like +this. I felt so sure of myself when I started; and--and--it is failure, +you see; and failure is harder to bear than the hardest kind of labor. +I've always thought, you know, that I was cut out for this sort of +thing,--this inventive business,--but it looks as though I had been more +conceited than anything else, doesn't it?" + +"No, no; it doesn't, John. Your worst enemy couldn't say that you were +conceited. But you've had so little chance, so little time; that's +what's the trouble. But you haven't come to the end yet, and I didn't +mean that I wanted you to give up trying. I only meant that I wouldn't +bother over _that_. You must start something new; that's all I meant, +John," cried Mrs. Benham, full of affectionate sympathy and repentance. + +"Oh! I understand, Martha; I understand. What you said didn't discourage +me. I dare say I shall tinker away at something again by and by; but +_this_ thing"--striking the model a little blow with his hand--"is a +failure." + +At that moment the door-bell rang, and Mrs. Benham hurried away to +answer its summons. Left alone, her husband stretched out his hand +towards the model, and opened the door of its fire-box. There was still +a tiny bed of coals there. + +"We'll have a last run," he said, with a half-smile; and opening the +steam-valve, he saw the beautiful little model start once more on its +way along the rails he had laid for it upon the work-bench that ran +around the room. As he had constructed a self-acting pressure that +should close the steam-valve at a certain point, the model was under as +perfect control from where he stood as if it were of larger proportions, +and he were managing and directing it from its engine cab. A look of +pride, followed by an expression of sadness, flickered over the +builder's face, as he watched it. Where _had_ he failed? + +Round and round the course the pretty thing sped, not at any headlong +speed, but at the pace that had been set for it, to prove or disprove +the effectiveness of the combination. Click, click, how smoothly it ran! +everything apparently perfect, from the wheels to the wire-netted flues. +If only--But what--what is that? and John Benham starts forward with +sudden eager attention. His quick ear has caught a slight sound that he +had not heard before, so slight that only _his_ ear would have detected +it. The machine was on its finishing round; three seconds more, and the +self-acting steam-valve has shut, the engine slows up to a stop, and its +builder, with a quickened pulse, bends eagerly forward. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Perhaps it is five minutes later that the wife opens the door again. +"John, who do you think has just called?" She receives no answer. "Dear +me!" she says vexedly to herself, "he's worrying at that machine again. +I wish he'd give it up. John!" Still no answer. Mrs. Benham walks into +the room. "John, I wish--" But as she catches sight of her husband's +face, which is pale, and changed by some strong feeling, she forgets +what she was about to say, and exclaims in a troubled tone, "What is it? +What is the matter, John?" + +He starts and turns to her. Matter? A half-smile stirs his lips, and he +points to the engine without another word. + +Mrs. Benham is frightened. She thinks to herself: "This constant worry +over that thing is turning his head; he will lose his mind. Oh, John!" +she cries, "if you would only come away and rest and give this up, if +only for a little while! I--I--" and poor Mrs. Benham's voice breaks, +and the tears rush to her eyes. + +"Martha, Martha, you don't understand. My worry is all over,--all over. +The thing is a success,--a success, Martha, and not a failure!" + +"What--why--when I went out--" + +"When you went out a while ago, I'd given it up, and I thought I'd say +good-bye to it in a last run, and on that run I heard a new sound. Look +here, Martha, do you see that link in the valve gearing? I thought I had +taken every pains to suspend it properly. Well, it seems I hadn't. I +suspended it in the usual way, and it worked in the usual way; but it +turns out that wasn't the way to work with my new injector, and there is +where the hitch was. Do you remember when I brought my hand down on the +machine when we were talking? I must have displaced this delicate little +bolt or pin that you see here, at that blow, and in that way put the +link--it is what is called a shifting link--into the right position to +work my injector combination. This little change of position makes +everything clear as daylight, and I can put this little beauty into fine +shape now; fasten the bolts and pins permanently instead of temporarily, +for I don't need any more changes. It will do its double work of speed +and fuel-saving every time; for see there!"--and the exultant builder +pointed to some almost infinitesimal figures in two different portions +of the engine. They were the registers that proved the result of this +last triumphant run, and the complete success of his invention. + +The tears were still in Mrs. Benham's eyes, but they were tears of joy. +"It seems too good to be true," she faltered. + +"And I thought the other thing--the failure--too bad to be true," he +returned. Then smiling a little, "I shall name it 'Hope,'" he said. + +"And it is Hope that will make our fortunes, after all; for this will +make a fortune, won't it, John?" inquired Mrs. Benham, looking up into +her husband's face eagerly. But he didn't hear her. His thoughts had +gone back to that valve gearing, and the link that had been so happily +put in place. + +She touched his arm, and repeated her question. + +"Fortune?" He turned from his loving contemplation of the thing that he +had builded. It seemed almost human to him. "Fortune,--I don't know," he +answered absently. + +Mrs. Benham did not repeat her question again. She saw, as she glanced +at her husband's face, that it would be of no use, for she saw that just +for the present he was all absorbed in the delight that had come to him, +in the successful accomplishment of his undertaking. This was joy enough +for him at the moment. He had often said to her when she had advised him +not to tire himself out pottering over things that might not bring him a +penny, that he loved the work for itself, independent of anything else. +And it was the work that he was thinking of now, not the possible +financial results. But by and by--and Mrs. Benham's thoughts went +wandering off into that by and by, when these results would take +tangible form. Her ideas, however, were extremely modest. This fortune +that she had in her mind, that she saw before her at that instant, was +very limited. Harry Richards, an old friend of her husband's, had made a +comfortable little sum out of an improvement upon car-window fastenings, +and it was some such comfortable little sum that Mrs. Benham was +thinking of. A little sum that would be sufficient, perhaps, to pay at +once what mortgage there was still left upon their little home, to buy a +new carpet for the parlor, and the books her husband needed, and to give +Hope all the instruction she wanted upon the violin, from Mr. Kolb, or +any other teacher, at the teacher's price. + +Just at this point of her thought, a quick, flying step was heard, and a +quick, humming voice,--a little sweet, thready sound, as near like a +violin tone as the owner could make it,--and the next minute Hope +appeared in the workshop rosy and radiant. + +"Mr. Kolb says," she broke out, dropping her humming violin note, "that +I shall make a very good little fiddler some day if I 'haf patience,'" +gayly imitating the old German's pronunciation. "He says--" But +something in her father's absorbed attitude, in her mother's expression, +stopped her. "What is it? what has happened?" she inquired, looking from +one to the other. + +"Your father has got the little engine all right." + +"It does just what he wanted it to do?" asked Hope, eagerly. + +"Yes, just what he wanted it to do." + +Hope danced about the room, humming her little thready violin note. Her +father, roused from his reverie, looked up at her, and smiled. + +"Well, Hope, the little fiddle was a success, eh?" + +"And the little engine too;" and the girl danced up to her father, +humming her note of gladness. + +"Yes, the little engine too." + +Mrs. Benham, looking across the work-bench at her husband and daughter, +nodded and laughed at them. + +"You're just alike,--you two," she said. "There's nothing now but the +little engine and the little fiddle. But how does it happen, Hope, that +Mr. Kolb could give you such a long lesson? Didn't he go in to play at +the concert to-night?" + +"No; he has a cold, and his nephew, Karl, is to take his place. It is +Karl, you know, who teaches at the Conservatory; and Mr. Kolb says that +some time, when he gets too old and rheumatic to go out in the evening, +he may give up orchestra-playing altogether, and take to teaching like +Karl." + +"Well, he'll have to get more profitable pupils than Hope Benham in that +case," said Mrs. Benham, laughingly. + +"Mother, do you think--is it taking too much--from--" + +"No, no, Hope," interrupted her mother. "I don't think anything of the +kind. Mr. Kolb meant what he said when he told you he'd like to give you +lessons. Don't you fret about that; father will pay him some time." + +"Perhaps _I'll_ pay him when--" But Mrs. Benham did not stop to hear the +end of her daughter's sentence. A patter of rain-drops caught her ear, +and she hurried away to close the upper windows. Hope turned to her +father with her new idea; she was aglow with it. + +"Farver," she began, using her old baby pronunciation, as she was in the +habit of doing now and then,--"Farver, Mr. Kolb says if I practise hard, +I may get to play the little fiddle at a concert some day, and earn +money, and then--then, I shall pay Mr. Kolb for teaching me, farver." + +"Oh! that is your plan? Hope, the little fiddle has done a good work +already. It has pushed all that bad time out of your mind, hasn't it?" + +"Yes, yes, it has pushed it away--away--oh! ever so much further; but, +farver," and Hope put her head down on her father's shoulder, +"I--I--don't ever want to see that girl again." + +"Yes, father knows;" and drawing her closer to him, John Benham stroked +his daughter's sleek brown head with a soft caressing touch. + +And father _did_ know. He knew that the little daughter was having her +first experience of the world, and the way it made its separations, its +class distinctions between rich and poor and high and low. He was not +envious or jealous or bitter, but he was very observant and thoughtful, +and he could not help seeing how ignorantly made were some of these +distinctions, and how unchristian. He knew that his little Hope was +intelligent and refined,--the fit companion for any refined child, +however placed in the world; and he knew that he himself was a fit +companion for intelligent, thoughtful men, however placed,--for, though +obliged to be a hard worker since he came a boy of fifteen from his +father's farm, he had found time to think and read and study, and he was +conscious that he had read and studied and thought to some purpose, and +that his thought was worth something; yet because of this way that the +world had of separating people without regard to their real natures or +their real tastes, but solely in regard to the accidents of poverty or +family influence, he was debarred from acquaintanceship on true, equal +terms with many who would naturally have been his companions and +friends, and whose companionship would have been of service to him, as +his would have been of service to them, from the different knowledge +that had come to each, from their different experiences. And here was +Hope--he looked down at her as his thoughts came to this point--here was +Hope, his cherished little daughter, so fine, so sweet. Was that girl of +the world's so-called higher class, whose blunt speech had hurt so +deeply,--was _she_ a fit companion for his little daughter? + +He bent down and put his lips to the sleek brown head, as he asked this +question. Then he saw that the child was asleep; but his movement roused +her, and, stirring uneasily, she murmured in her dreams, "Ten cents a +bunch!" then, half awakening, cried, "Farver, farver, I don't ever want +to see that girl again." + +"No, no, you sha'n't. It's all over, dear. We're not going to have any +more of that 'Ten cents a bunch!'--never any more of it," he repeated +consolingly, but with an emphasis of indignation and self-reproach. + +But he was mistaken. Neither he nor Hope had heard the last of that "Ten +cents a bunch!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +To be a pupil in Miss Marr's school was a distinction in itself. "Why +don't you give and write your name 'Mademoiselle Marr,' as you have a +right to do?" asked one of Miss Marr's acquaintances, when the school +was first started. + +Miss Marr laughed; then she answered soberly, "When my father came to +America, he made himself a legal citizen of the country and he fought in +its battles. He never called himself, and he was never called by any +one, 'Monsieur.'" + +"Because he bore the title of General." + +"Not at first,--not until he had earned it here. But I--I was born and +brought up here, and I have been always Miss Marr here. Why should I now +suddenly change to Mademoiselle?" + +"Because it would be of benefit to your school. Americans are attracted +by anything foreign, and Mademoiselle Marr's school would sound so much +more distinguished than Miss Marr's school." + +"Oh!" and Miss Marr flung up her hands impatiently; "I am a better +American than these foolish people who like foreign titles so much. But +they shall come to me, they shall send their children to Miss Marr's +school. I am not going to begin with any little tricks,--to throw out +any little bait to catch silly folk, for it is not such folk's patronage +that I want. I am going to keep an honest school, and I shall start as I +mean to go on." + +The acquaintance sighed, and shook her head, and told all her friends +how obstinate Miss Marr was, how she had been advised and how she had +gone against the advice, and that the school wouldn't come to anything, +would get no start as Miss Marr's school, whereas as Mademoiselle Marr's +it would at once impress everybody. + +But Miss Marr went on in her own way, and at the end of five years there +was no school in all New York that had the kind of high reputation that +hers had. It was, in a certain sense, the fashion, and yet it was not +fashionable. + +"It's that French way of hers, after all," said the acquaintance whose +advice had not been taken; "it's that French way that she inherited from +the General. Nobody had finer manners than General Marr, and he had the +qualities of a leader, too, in some ways,--though he never could keep +any money; and these qualities also his daughter inherits." + +Miss Marr laughed at this explanation when she was told of it,--laughed, +and declared that the only secret of her success lay in the fact that +she liked her work, and put her whole heart into it. And I'm inclined to +think she was right. If she got a start at first because she was General +Marr's daughter, she held it and made much of it because she had +character and purpose. She put her heart into her work, and that meant +that she put the magic of her lively sympathy and interest into it; and +if she had not possessed this character and purpose, she couldn't have +done what she did, even if she had been the daughter of an even more +distinguished man than General Marr. She had said in the beginning: "I +am not going to model my school after any fashionable pattern, for I +don't care to have what is called a fashionable school, and I don't +solicit fashionable patronage. There are plenty of quiet, cultivated +people in New York and elsewhere who, I am sure, want just such a school +as I mean to have,--a sensible, honest school, that shall give a +sensible, honest, all-round education." And she was right, as events +proved. The quiet, cultivated people came forth at once to her support; +and then the queerest thing happened,--the fashionable folk began to +come forward too, and in such numbers that she couldn't accommodate half +of them, and they, instead of accepting the situation, and going +elsewhere at this crisis, patiently bided their time, waiting until a +vacancy occurred. It will readily be understood that when things had +come to this pass, it was considered a most decided distinction to be a +pupil at Miss Marr's school. + +It was just at the climax of this popularity, just before the beginning +of a new year, that a certain young lady said to her younger sister,-- + +"Now, Dorothy"-- + +"Doro_thea_! Doro_thea_! I'm going to have my whole name, every syllable +of it, to start off in New York with." + +"Well, Dorothea, then; you must remember one thing about Miss Marr,--she +won't put up with any of your flippant smartness." + + +"She needn't." + +"But, Dorothea, you won't be punished, and you won't be allowed to +argue, as you did at Miss Maynard's. It will be like this,--Miss Marr +will let you go on and reveal yourself and all your faults without a +word of comment, as she would if you were a guest; then if she finds +that you or your faults are of the kind that she doesn't care to have in +her school, she'll send you home. She says, you know, that her school is +neither an infant school, nor a reform school,--that by the time girls +are fifteen, they are young ladies enough to have some idea of good +breeding, and if they haven't, they are not the sort of girls that she +wants in her school. Now remember that, Dorothea." + +"I never heard of a school-teacher putting on such airs as this Miss +Marr does, in my life. It's always what _she_ wants, what _she_ expects, +what _she_ is going to do. I know I shall hate her!" + +"Well, if this is the spirit that you propose to start with, it is very +easy to foresee the result." + +"I don't care." + +"Now, Dorothea, you _do_ care. Just think--your name has been on the +list for a whole year for this vacancy; and it was your own idea, you +know. Nothing would satisfy you but to go to Miss Marr's." + +"Oh, I know, I know; don't preach, you dear Molly Polly! I'm not going +to fly at Miss Marr and call her an old cat, if I think she's one." + +"No, I should say not, but you mustn't fly at a good many things,--at +certain rules and regulations, for instance,--and you mustn't take any +saucy little liberties, such as you have been in the habit of taking at +Miss Maynard's." + +"Oh, not a liberty!" smiling and nodding at her elder sister. "I shall +pull my face down like this"--drawing down her lips and lowering her +eyes--"when I meet the great Miss Marr, and I shall say, in a little bit +of a frightened voice like this, 'Oh, Miss Marr, Miss Marr, _please_ +don't shut me up in a dark closet and put me on bread and water, +whatever I do.'" + +"What a goose you are, Dorothy!" but the elder sister laughed. + +"Doro_thea_! Doro_thea_! remember now it's to be Doro_thea_, and you +must write Doro_thea_ on the envelopes of your letters to me," was the +swift protest. + +Three days after this conversation, Dolly, or Dorothea Dering, sat +waiting with her mother in a handsome but rather old-fashioned-looking +parlor in a rather old-fashioned house in New York, for the appearance +of its hostess, Miss Marr. Dolly had been fidgeting about, examining the +ornaments on the tables and the pictures on the walls, with a mingled +expression of curiosity and irritability on her face, when she caught +the sound of a firm even footfall on the polished oak floor of the hall. +The girl made a little face at this firm, even sound, and said to +herself, "It's just like her,--old Madam Prim!" + +In another moment the footsteps came to the threshold of the parlor, and +Dolly looked across the room to see--Why, there was some mistake! This +was one of the pupils, and no Madam Prim; and what a stylish girl, what +a stunning plain gown! thought Dolly. The minute after, "the stylish +girl in the stunning plain gown" was saying, "How do you do, Mrs. +Dering?" and Mrs. Dering was saying, "How do you do, Miss Marr?" + +Dolly almost gasped with astonishment. "_This_, Miss Marr! Why, she +didn't look any older than Mary." + +The fact was, that Miss Marr was seven years older than Mary Dering, who +was only twenty-three; but Angelique Marr was one of those persons who +never look their age. Though not childish or immature, she had a fresh +girl's aspect. In looking at her, Dolly forgot all her little plans for +saying or doing this or that. Miss Marr looking at _her_ said to +herself: "Poor child! how shy and awkward and overgrown she is!" and +forthwith concluded that it would be better not to notice her much for a +time, and therefore gave all her attention to the mother, bestowing a +swift fleeting smile now and then upon the girl,--a _young_ smile, like +that of a comrade in passing. Dolly was out of all her reckoning; her +program of word and action which she had so carefully arranged being +completely destroyed by this surprise of personality,--this substitution +of the "stylish girl in a stunning plain gown" for an old Madam Prim. So +absorbed was she in these thoughts, she heard but vaguely what her +mother was saying, and was quite startled when the moment of parting +from her came, forgetting all the fine little airs and good-bye messages +she had arranged. She was so dazed, indeed, that she seemed stupid, and +impressed Miss Marr more than ever as shy and awkward and overgrown; and +it was out of pity for this shyness that Angelique Marr, as the door +closed upon Mrs. Dering, turned to Mrs. Dering's daughter with her +sweetest and friendliest of young smiles, and said to her,-- + +"Would you like to come up to my little parlor and have a cup of +chocolate with me before I show you your room?" + +As Dolly accepted the invitation, she had an odd subdued sort of +feeling, as if she had been invited to lunch with one of Mary's fine +young lady friends; and this feeling, instead of wearing off, increased, +as she found herself in the little parlor drinking the most delicious +foamy chocolate from a delicate Sèvres cup, while her entertainer helped +her to biscuit or extra lumps of sugar, telling, as she did so, a droll +little story about her first lesson in chocolate brewing from an old +French soldier,--a friend of her father. + +Dolly listened and laughed, and felt more and more that she was being +treated in a very grown-up way by a very grown-up young lady, and that +she must be equal to the occasion; so she sat up in her chair with a +great deal of dignity, and endeavored to say the proper things in the +proper places, with a delightful sense that she was doing the thing as +well as Mary. It was at this moment that some one knocked at the door; +and at Miss Marr's "Come in," there appeared a tall youth, who cried out +as he entered,-- + +"Well, Aunt Angel!" + +"What! Victor?" + + +Then followed embraces and inquiries; and Dolly began to feel out of +place, and the stranger that she was, when Miss Marr turned, smiled, +begged her pardon, and introduced her to her nephew,--Victor Graham, who +was just back from his vacation at Moosehead Lake. With the grace and +tact that people called "that French way" of hers, Miss Marr managed to +include Dolly in the conversation, and, finding that she had spent +several summers at Kineo, the Moosehead Lake region, drew her out by +clever questions to tell what she knew about it. And Dolly knew a great +deal about it; she had paddled a canoe on the lake, she had caught fish +and helped cook them on the shore, and she had camped out in the Kineo +woods. + +Victor Graham, tall as he was, was only sixteen,--a real boy who loved +out-of-door sports,--and, delighted to find somebody who was so familiar +with the charmed region he had just reluctantly left, was soon in the +full swing of reminiscences and questions. Had she been to this place, +did she know that point, etc., etc.? In short, he felt as if he had met +a comrade, and he treated her as such,--as a boy like himself; and Dolly +for the moment responded in the same spirit, and forgot her stiff +dignity and young lady manners, patterned after her sister Mary's. + +Miss Marr sat back in her chair, looking and listening and smiling. +Dolly had not the least idea that she was reading, as one would read in +a book, a little page of Dorothea Dering. But she was. Dolly, in talking +to Victor, forgot, as I have said, her dignity and young-lady manners, +and was the Dolly Dering who romped and raced and paddled and cooked at +Moosehead Lake. + +"Not so very awkward, and not shy at all, but a big overgrown girl, who +may one day be an attractive woman, when she is toned down and less +crude and hoydenish." + +This was part of Miss Marr's reading as she looked and listened; and as +Dolly, getting more excited with her subject, went on more glibly, her +silent smiling listener thought,-- + +"A good deal of a spoiled child evidently, who has been used to having +her own way and been laughed at for her smart sayings until she is quite +capable, I fear, of being rude and overbearing, if not unfeeling on +occasions. But I think there is good material underneath. We'll see, +we'll see." + +What would Dolly have said if she could have heard this criticism of +Dorothea Dering? What would Mrs. Dering have said if she could have +heard her daughter called capable of being rude and overbearing? What +would Mary have said to the whole summing up,--Mary, who was not of the +kind ever to have been spoiled by indulgence, who was finer and had +better instincts than Dolly? Mary would have said, "Oh, Dolly, Dolly, +what have I always told you?" + +Just as Miss Marr came to the conclusion of these reflections, she +looked up at the clock on the mantel, and gave a quick start. Victor, +following the direction of her eyes, stopped the story of camp-life that +he was telling, and jumped to his feet, saying,-- + +"Do excuse me, Aunt Angel; I'd no idea it was so late." + +Dolly's face fell like a disappointed child, and she burst out +impatiently,-- + +"Oh, finish the story, finish the story!" + +Victor Graham gave her a glance of surprise; then, flushing a little, +said gently,-- + +"This is Aunt Angel's busy hour; I'll finish the story some other time." + +The blood mounted to Dolly's forehead. That glance of surprise pricked +her sharply. It angered her too. Who was this boy to set his priggish +manners above hers? And in hot rebellion, she cried out flippantly,-- + +"No, no, tell it now, tell it now! Ten minutes longer can't make much +difference." + +She had been accustomed to persist in this fashion at home; and beyond a +"Dolly, how impolite!" or "Be quiet, Dolly!" spoken at the moment by +father or mother or Mary, not much further notice was taken of her +offence. But neither Miss Marr nor Victor made the slightest suggestion +of a reproving comment now. They made no comment whatever. The boy +simply stared at her a second, then lowered his eyes, showing clearly +that he was embarrassed by the girl's rudeness. Miss Marr looked at her +with an expression of wondering astonishment that was in itself a shock +and a revelation to Dolly. There was not a particle of personal +resentment in this expression; it was the wondering astonishment of a +person who is regarding for the first time some strange new species of +development. Dolly had hitherto gloried in her impertinence, as +something witty and audacious. Now all at once she was made to see that +to another person, and that person this "stylish girl in a stunning +plain gown," this audacious impertinence looked vulgar. The shock of +this revelation was so sudden to Miss Dolly that all self-possession +deserted her, and again Miss Marr saw her apparently shy and awkward and +speechless. The deep red flush that overspread her face at the same time +added to the appearance of shyness, and pleaded for her more than words +would have done. + +"She'd be a jolly girl, if she didn't break up into such Hottentot ways. +I wonder where she came from?" was Victor's inward reflection. His +concluding reflection, as he went out of the house, was, "Wonder what +Aunt Angel will do with her." + +Aunt Angel wondered, too, as she accompanied Dolly up to the room that +had been arranged for her; and as she wondered, she could not help +thinking, "How glad I am the girl is going to have a room to herself, +and not with any one of the other girls!" + +The room was small, but it was charmingly furnished,--a little pink and +white chamber, with all sorts of pretty contrivances for comfort and +convenience. As Dolly looked about her, when Miss Marr closed the door +upon her, she thought of what her mother had said, after inspecting the +room the day before: "It isn't in the least like a boarding-school,--it +is like a visitor's room, Dolly, as you will see." + +And Dolly did see, but she was in no mood to enjoy the pretty details +just then, for the sense of humiliation was weighing heavily upon her. +In vain she tried to blow it away with the breath of anger,--to call +Miss Marr "old Madam Prim," and Victor "that prig of a boy." Nothing of +this kind availed to relieve her. Never in her life had she been so +impressed by anybody as by Miss Marr, and she was also sure that she had +also begun to impress Miss Marr, in her turn. And now and now!--and down +on the pink and white bed Dolly flung herself in a paroxysm of mingled +regret, rage, mortification, and disappointment, and, like the big, +overgrown, undisciplined child that she was, sobbed herself to sleep. + +The short October afternoon had come nearly to an end when she woke; and +she looked about her in dismay. It must be late; and, springing up, she +glanced at her watch. It was half-past four. At this moment she heard, +in the hall outside, a murmur of girls' voices. One called, "Miss Marr;" +and another said, "The Boston train was delayed, or I should have been +here earlier." + +Then followed a soft tinkle of laughter, a little tap of heels, and an +opening and shutting of doors. Dolly, listening, knew what this +meant,--knew that these girls were the late arrivals, the returning +pupils. + +"And they all know each other," she commented rather lonesomely and +enviously, "and I shall dress myself and get down before them. I'm not +going to enter a room full of strange girls, if I know it!" + +Dolly's taste was generally excellent. She knew what to wear and when to +wear it; but some mistaken idea of outshining those strange girls at the +start took possession of her, and instead of putting on a gown suited to +the occasion, she donned a fine affair,--a combination of old-rose +cashmere and velvet, with rose ribbons at her throat. As she left the +room in this finery, she saw a door farther down the hall open, and a +tall slender girl, dressed with the severest simplicity, come forth. + +One of those strange girls! And Dolly, as they met, stared at her, with +her head in the air. But the strange girl, with a matter of course +manner, gave a little courteous inclination of greeting as she passed, +whereat Dolly grew rather red. "I wonder if that is the girl who talked +about 'my train,'" thought Dolly. "I'll bet it is. She has a look like +that girl I saw one day last spring with the Edlicotts at Papanti's +dancing-school. I wonder what her name is." + +As the girl ran lightly down the stairs, one of the maids came up. Dolly +stopped her and asked, "Is that one of the pupils?" + +"Yes, miss." + +"What is her name?" + +"Miss Hope Benham." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Miss Hope Benham! It was five years since Dolly's encounter with Hope in +the Brookside station, and four years since she had heard her or the +name of Benham referred to. This later reference was made by Mr. Dering +one morning at the breakfast-table. + +"Well, Dolly," he had suddenly said, glancing up from his newspaper, +"that little flower-girl who got the better of you last season is in +luck." + +Dolly looked up with a puzzled expression. + +"What! you've forgotten the little girl at the Brookside station who +told you how ignorant and bad-mannered you were?" + +"Oh, Ten-cents-a-bunch!" shouted Dolly. + +"Yes, little Ten-cents-a-bunch. Well, her father, the engineer, is on +the high road to fortune by a certain successful invention of his. Now, +what do you say to that?" + +"Ten-cents-a-bunch," repeated Dolly, laughing. + +"Oh, that Mr. Benham, the engineer you told us of last season?" asked +Mary, with interest. + +"Yes, that's the man. He has procured a patent on a valuable invention +of his, and is going to be a rich man by means of it. He's a much +cleverer fellow than I thought. I heard him speak the other night before +the Scientific Mechanics' Association, and it was a very intelligent +speech, full of scientific knowledge, and showing a great deal of +ability." + +"And last year, father, you laughed at me for asking you if he had this +ability." + +Mr. Dering shook his head with a comic smile. + +"Oh, well, Mary, we are all liable to mistakes. I've seen so much of +this inventive ambition that came to nothing, I've grown to be cautious +in my judgments." + +"Of course he isn't running an engine now?" + +"Bless you, no. He's off to Europe this month. He's made some contract +with a firm in France for the use of his invention. They had heard of it +through a former fellow-workman of Benham's,--another clever fellow, yet +not a genius like Benham, though he has gained for himself quite an +important position as an inspector of locomotives abroad; but there is +an account of the whole thing in the morning's paper." + +Dolly listened to this talk with a very divided attention. She had a big +picnic on her mind, and all other matters were of very little importance +beside that. It was thus that Ten-cents-a-bunch and the name of Benham +were quite overborne for the time by this interest. After four years +more of picnics and other pleasurings, Dolly heard the name again +without the slightest recognition, and in the tall young girl of +fifteen, with her womanly face and her hair wound into a knot +at the back of her head, she received no suggestion of little +Ten-cents-a-bunch. + +And how was it with Hope? Hope remembered. The last four years of her +life had been passed abroad, most of them in France, where she had been +at school in Paris, while her father and mother were established near +by,--her father taking advantage of the great opportunities Paris +offered him for scientific study. It was a happy time for all of them, +and in this happy time Hope forgot some earlier deprivations and +discomforts, or at least forgot the smart of them; but she never forgot +that encounter at the Brookside station, which was to her her first +close experience of the world's class distinctions. Neither had she ever +forgotten the face of "that girl;" and when, coming out of her room at +Miss Marr's, she looked down the hall and saw those big black eyes and +that confident expression, she at once, in spite of the change in +Dolly's height and breadth, recognized her. + +But the five years had matured and educated Hope so much that the thrill +which accompanied this recognition was not that shrinking of fear and +dislike which had once overcome her. It was now the ordinary pang of +repulsion that one feels in meeting something or somebody connected with +what was once painful; and there was an expression of this feeling in +her face, as she entered the library downstairs. Two or three girls were +already assembled there; and as Hope responded warmly to their +affectionate greetings, one of them exclaimed,-- + +"There! now you look like yourself. When you came in, you had a +stand-off sort of air, and a little hard pucker between your eyes, as if +you were expecting to confront an army of enemies." + +Hope laughed; and presently the whole group were off on a regular girl +chat, telling the story of their long summer vacation in the most +animated manner. They were in the thick of this, when some one pushed +the portière aside, with the uncertain touch of a strange hand, and a +strange voice asked constrainedly,-- + +"Is this a private sitting-room?" + +The girls all turned to look at the speaker, and there was a half moment +of silence. Then Kate Van der Berg answered politely,-- + +"Oh, no; it is the library, where we all come when we like." + +"Oh, I didn't know where to go;" and Dolly came forward, trying to look +indifferent and at her ease, and succeeding only in looking rather huffy +and uncomfortable. The first glance she had received was not reassuring. +The four girls whose chat she had interrupted were all dressed in the +simplest manner, with no frills and furbelows anywhere; and that first +glance of theirs at the new-comer's fine gown was a glance of surprise +that there was no mistaking. The fact of it was, every girl of them, as +she caught sight of Dolly, supposed for the moment that she was a guest +of Miss Marr's; and when enlightened to the contrary by Dolly's own +words, every girl of them involuntarily gave another glance of surprise. + +They were well trained, however, and presently endeavored to make the +new pupil feel at home; but it was rather up-hill work naturally. +Luckily at this crisis, Miss Marr appeared, to adjust matters. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, glancing brightly at Dolly, "you found your way +down all alone. I went to your room a little while ago; and as you were +asleep, I didn't disturb you." + +Then, with the same bright look and manner, she introduced the girls to +Dolly, and stood talking with them all for a few minutes. When she +turned to leave them, a general protest arose, Kate Van der Berg crying +out,-- + +"Oh, no, no! don't go yet, Miss Marr! Just think, we haven't had a sight +of you for three months, and we are positively hungry for you, aren't +we, Hope?" appealing to Hope Benham, who was standing near her. + +Hope made no reply in words, but she gave a quick upward look and smile +which spoke more eloquently than any words. Dolly, observant of +everything, saw not only this look and smile, but the answering look and +smile in Miss Marr's eloquent face; and instantly a little sharp feeling +of something akin to both jealousy and envy disturbed her. Not to lead +off and take a first place was a new experience to Dolly, and she did +not enjoy it. At home in Brookside or Boston she had always easily led +off in this way, partly on account of her belonging to a family whose +acquaintance was large, and partly on account of her dominant desire. +But here she found herself for the first time amongst strangers, who +knew nothing about her, and to whom she was of no importance. An uneasy +sense of all this had begun to assail her before she left Miss Marr's +little parlor. It deepened as she entered the library and met the three +pairs of eyes turned upon her and her fine gown. It deepened still more +as she saw that swift exchange of tender glances between Miss Marr and +Hope; and the little imp of jealousy straightway sprang up with its +unreasonable suggestions that she was not treated with sufficient +consideration, that she was, in fact, neglected, and left out in the +cold, when she should, as the new-comer, have received assiduous +attention. That she, the daughter of the Hon. James Dering, should be +thus coolly set aside! It was at this climax of her resentful feeling +that Miss Marr happened to look across at her. She caught at once +something of the true state of things,--not everything, but enough to +show her that the girl felt awkward and uncomfortable. + +"Poor thing!" she thought; "she doesn't get on well at all. I must ask +Hope to help me with her. She, if anybody, will be able to make her feel +easier and more at home." + +There was no opportunity to speak with Hope then, for down the hall came +tap, tapping, another little company of heels, and presently the +portière was flung aside, and a troop of girls entered, and rushing up +to Miss Marr, claimed her attention, with their gay and affectionate +greetings. No, no time then to speak to any one privately and specially, +only time to mention Dolly's name,--"Miss Dorothea Dering, girls,"--only +time for this before the clock rung out the hour of six; and at the last +stroke Miss Marr turned her head from the girls, who were flocking about +her, and looked back at Hope Benham. + +"Hope, will you take Dorothea--Miss Dering--in to dinner?" + +Miss Marr did not see the change in Hope's face,--the sudden stiffening, +as it were, of every feature; but Kate Van der Berg saw it. It was the +same kind of stiffness that she had noticed when Hope came into the +library,--the rigid stiffness that she had called a "stand-off sort of +air," and there was that little hard pucker again between the eyes. + +"Hope will take her in to dinner and be as polite to her as a Chinese +mandarin, but she won't 'take' to her in any other way," was Miss Kate's +shrewd reflection. + +The position was not an agreeable one to Hope, but she bethought herself +that it might have been much more disagreeable if Dorothea had +remembered. That she did not, was perfectly apparent. But if she had +remembered! Hope shuddered to think of what might have happened if this +had been the case. How, with that incapacity for understanding sensitive +natures unlike her own, this girl would in some abrupt way have referred +to that past painful encounter,--painful, not because of the different +conditions of things at that time, but painful because of that first +cruel knowledge of the world that had come through it. + +Kate Van der Berg was not far wrong when she prophesied that Hope would +be as polite as a Chinese mandarin to the new-comer. Hope was very +polite. You could not have found fault with a single word or action. +Even Dolly saw nothing to find fault with; but all this politeness did +not warm and cheer her, did not make her feel any easier or more at +home. In sitting there at the dinner-table in the bright light she felt +more uncomfortable than ever, for by this searching light she saw now +very clearly the extreme plainness of each girl's attire; and as she +caught every now and then the quick observing glance of one and another, +she saw that she had made a great mistake,--that, instead of producing a +fine impression by her fine dress, she had produced an unfavorable one, +and was being silently criticised as rather loud and--oh, +horror!--vulgar. + +Miss Marr, looking across the table, did not fail to see that Hope was +not so successful as usual in charming away the awkwardness and +discomfort of a stranger. Presently she caught two or three little set +speeches of Hope's,--polite little speeches, but perfectly +mechanical,--and said to herself as Kate Van der Berg had said, "Hope +doesn't take to her." + +It was generally the custom for the girls to meet in the library before +and after dinner for a few minutes' social chat; but on this night most +of the girls, having just arrived, excused themselves, and went directly +upstairs to unpack their trunks and settle their various belongings. +Hope was very glad to make her excuses with the others, and escape to +her room, that for a few days she was to occupy alone. She was busily +engaged in putting the last things in their places, when there came a +light tap on the door, and to her "Come in," Miss Marr entered, with a +little apology for the lateness of her call, and an admiring exclamation +for Hope's quick dexterity in arranging her belongings. After this she +sat a moment in silence, with rather a perplexed look on her face; then +suddenly she broke the silence. + +"Hope," she said, "I am afraid I gave you an unpleasant task to perform +to-night." + +Hope reddened. + +"You didn't find it easy, I perceived, to talk with the new pupil." + +"N--o, I didn't," faltered Hope. + +"She was hard to get on with, wasn't she?" + +"I--I don't know. I--talked to her--I paid her what attention I could." + +"But she was disagreeable to you?" + +"She didn't intend to be--I--I didn't fancy her, Miss Marr." + +Miss Marr looked the surprise she felt. She had never known Hope to take +such a sudden dislike. + +"I didn't fancy her, and I suppose I was stiff with her; but I tried--I +tried to be polite to her." + +"Of course you did. I'm not finding fault with you, dear. You did what +you could to help me, and it was kind of you. I'm sorry you feel as you +do, but don't trouble any more about it; it will wear off, I dare say; +and now make haste and go to bed,--you look tired." + +"Miss Marr," and Hope put a detaining hand on Miss Marr's arm. "What is +it--what else is it you were thinking of--of asking me to do?" + +"Never mind, dear." + +"Tell me, please, Miss Marr." + +"I was going to ask you to let Miss Dering occupy the other bed in your +room to-night. Some one left the water running before dinner in the room +over hers, and the bed and carpet are drenched; but I will make some +other arrangement for her now,--you sha'n't be troubled with her." + +"But the other rooms are full." + +"Yes, but I will have a cot put up in the little parlor. Good-night;" +and with a soft touch of her hand on Hope's cheek, Miss Marr left the +room. She was half-way down the hall when Hope ran after her. + +"Miss Marr, Miss Marr, don't--don't put up the bed in the little parlor. +It is nine o'clock. Let her come to my room." + +"My dear, go back; don't think any more about the matter." + +"No, no, let her come to my room, _please_, Miss Marr." + +Miss Marr looked at the pleading face uplifted to hers, and understood. +At least she understood enough to see that Hope was already accusing +herself of being disobliging and selfish, and that she would be far more +uncomfortable now if left alone than she would be in sharing her room +with the obnoxious new comer; and so without more hesitation she yielded +the point, with a "Very well, dear; it shall be as you say," and went on +down the hall to Dorothea. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +"I am very sorry to have intruded upon you," said Dolly, as Hope met her +at the door of her room. + +Dolly meant to be very dignified and rather haughty, but she behaved +instead like what she was,--a cross, tired, homesick girl. Hope, seeing +the red, swollen eyelids, forgave the crossness, and saying something +pleasant about its being no intrusion, pointed out the little bed behind +the screen that Dolly was to occupy, and went on with the work of +regulating her bureau drawers, that Miss Marr had interrupted, begging +to be excused as she did so. If Dolly had done the proper thing, the +thing that was expected of her, she would have retired behind the screen +and gone to bed then and there. But she had no idea of going to bed, so +long as there was a light burning, and anybody was stirring; so she +dropped down into an easy-chair that stood near the door, and took up a +book that was lying on the table. It was a copy of "Le Luthier de +Crémone,"--a charming little play by Francois Coppée. Miss Dolly turned +the leaves over a moment, then put the volume down, and cast an +interested, curious look at Hope, who at that moment was busy arranging +her boxes. Dolly had studied French sufficiently to enable her to read +some very simple stories, but "Le Luthier de Crémone" was quite beyond +her power, and her glance at Hope was compounded of envy and admiration. +Hope, without apparently observing her, was yet nervously conscious of +every movement, and thought to herself,-- + +"Oh, dear! why _doesn't_ she go to bed?" + +Putting down the book, Dolly's eyes next turned to a certain oblong case +that was lying upon a chair near her. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, "do you play the violin?" + +"Yes, a little," answered Hope. + +"So do I. May I look at your violin?" + +Hope hesitated a second, then lifted the instrument from its case. It +was not the good little fiddle that she had earned for herself five +years ago. That was safely packed away. This was a much more costly +fiddle, and had been purchased in Paris for her by a brother of Mr. +Kolb, who was an extensive dealer in violins Dolly had taken lessons of +an excellent teacher, who was also an excellent judge of a violin, and +had chosen hers for her. She had at various times heard him talk about +some of the famous old violin-makers, and recognized their names when +she heard them spoken. As she took Hope's violin from her hands, she +said,-- + +"Oh, yours is about the size of mine. Mine is English, but it is +modelled on the famous old Stradivari pattern of Cremona, my teacher +said. You know Stradivari was one of the most famous of the Cremona +makers," looking up at Hope with an air of wisdom. + +[Illustration: "SHE TOOK HOPE'S VIOLIN FROM HER HANDS"] + +Hope nodded. + +"But this is a pretty little violin,--sort of quaint-looking," went on +Dolly, amiably. She was fast recovering her spirits, forgetting her +grievances and homesickness in her present interest, with her accustomed +alacrity. + +"Yes, I think it is pretty," Hope answered quietly. + +"Very pretty; I really think it is prettier than mine, and what a nice +red color it has! Who made it, do you know?" + +"An Italian named Montagnana." + + +"Oh! does he have a shop in London? Did your teacher get it for you +there?" + +"No, I don't think he was ever in London, even when he was living. But +he died a great while ago. He lived in Cremona first, then in Venice." + +"In Cremona! How long ago?" + +"Well, he was a pupil of Stradivari, and he lived in Cremona in the year +1740, and after he had studied for a time with Stradivari, he went to +Venice, where the manufacture of violins was very flourishing." + +"What! this is a real Cremona violin?" cried Dolly. "Why--why, Mr. +Andrews, my teacher, said that they were very rare, and when you did +succeed in getting hold of one that it took a lot of money to buy it." + +Hope made no response to this speech; and Dolly, looking up at her, +caught the expression of her face, and hastened to say,-- + +"I didn't mean that I didn't believe it was a Cremona violin; but I was +so astonished, you know, because I'd heard Mr. Andrews go on so about +Cremona violins." + +Hope was old enough now to see that Dolly was honest in her +excuse,--that she had really meant no offence,--and, relenting a little, +replied,-- + +"Yes, I suppose it _is_ hard to find a genuine old Cremona; but my first +teacher was an old German musician, and his brother, who is a dealer in +violins in Paris, procured this for me." + +"But didn't it cost a lot of money?" + +"It was expensive." + +Dolly would have given a great deal to know just how expensive was that +beautiful little instrument, with its nice red color; but even she +couldn't bring herself to ask the question outright of that tall, +reserved girl, who was so perfectly polite and yet so far off from her. +Who was this girl, anyway, she thought,--this girl, no older than +herself, whose father could and would buy a Cremona violin for her? Her +own father--the Hon. James Dering--was a rich man, and a generous one, +but he would have laughed at the proposition of buying a Cremona violin +for his daughter. Why, Cremona violins were for professionals--when they +could get them--and enthusiastic collectors. But perhaps--perhaps this +girl was going to be a professional. With this new idea in her mind, +Dolly gave another glance at Hope. A professional? No, that could not +be. A girl who was preparing to be a professional wouldn't be here at +Miss Marr's school. But a Cremona violin! Dolly wouldn't have been at +all astonished if a girl had shown her a fine watch-case set about with +diamonds. Mary had a very valuable watch of that kind, and she herself +had the promise of one like it when she was as old as Mary. It didn't +occur to her that a Cremona violin was a piece of property that was +yearly advancing in value; that it was, in fact, a better investment, as +the phrase is, than diamonds even. She had heard her father say often +that diamonds would always bring their market value, and that they were +therefore very safe property to hold, though not bringing in any +interest. That a violin of any kind could have this property value did +not enter her head, and Hope's possession grew more and more puzzling to +her. Hope all the time had a keen sense of her companion's wonder and +curiosity, and was half amused, half irritated by it. But she succeeded +very well in concealing the state of her feelings, and was as polite as +ever, even when Dolly nearly dropped the precious Cremona, only giving +utterance to a little gasping "Oh!" Dolly herself was rather frightened +at the possible accident, and was glad to hand the instrument back to +its owner. As she did so, she asked suddenly,-- + +"Have you lived abroad? Did you take lessons abroad?" + +"Yes, I have lived abroad, and I took lessons nearly all the time I was +away." + +"Where were you,--in Germany?" + +"No, in Paris part of the time and part of the time in London." + +"How jolly!" + +"Yes, it was rather jolly sometimes, though both my French and English +teachers were very exacting, and made me work hard." + +"Oh! I don't mean the work,--the violin lessons; I mean the living in +London and Paris," answered Dolly, frankly. + +Hope couldn't help laughing at this frankness. + +Dolly laughed a little too, but she was quite in earnest, nevertheless, +and began another string of questions,--what Hope saw, where she went, +what she bought, etc. + +Hope's answers did not open the field of entertainment that Dolly +expected, for galleries and museums and music and quiet pleasures of +that kind were not what Dolly was thinking of in connection with Paris +and London. + +"But didn't you visit people, and go to theatres and things, and have +fun?" she asked at length. + +Hope smiled a queer, amused smile that Dolly didn't understand, as she +answered: "I didn't go abroad to have fun of that sort, but I had a +beautiful time." + +"I suppose you had a beautiful time slaving away at that violin." + +"I did, indeed," answered Hope, laughing outright. + +"What a lot you must know about a violin!" + +"I? Oh, no, no!" + +Hope at that instant was putting a pile of music upon a little +music-rack. Dolly caught sight of the upper sheet. + +"What! you play those things of Bach? Well, you _must_ know a lot!" + +"No, I _love_ a lot, and I've studied hard, that's all." + +"I should say so; and here," turning over the pages, "are Mendelssohn +and Beethoven and Chopin. Why, I should think you were studying to play +in public. Oh! but here is something more frivolous, more in my style," +pouncing upon a waltz. "Oh, I just dote on waltzes; try this now, do." + +"Oh, no, not now; it is too late. We must have our lights out by ten, +and it is fifteen minutes to ten this moment." + +"Oh, bother!" and Dolly wrinkled up her forehead. "I hate to go to bed." + +Hope's only reply to this remark was, "Then, if you'll excuse me and +turn out the gas when you are ready, I'll say good-night, for I'm very +tired;" and hastily retreating behind her screen, she left Dolly to her +own devices. + +Tired as she was, however, it was a long time before Hope could sleep. +Dolly, too, lay awake for a while, thinking over the many incidents of +the day. But her thoughts were not perplexed thoughts like Hope's. She +had no hurt remembrance of the past to perplex her. She had not by any +means entirely forgotten the little flower-girl, though she had +forgotten her name; but the memory of her was a latent one, and was not +for an instant stirred by her present companion's personality. Hope was +quite a new acquaintance to her. It never occurred to Dolly that she had +ever seen her before, unless she was really that girl whom she had seen +with the Edlicotts last spring. It was one of Dolly's characteristics +not to brood long over anything disagreeable; and lying there in the +still darkness, and reflecting upon the incidents of the day, the little +surprises and mortifications began to give way to a sense of interest +and anticipation, the principal point of interest at the moment being +Hope and her violin. Oddly enough, from the time that Dolly had seen +Hope coming down the hall, and had received that courteous little +greeting from her, she had been attracted towards her. The rather stiff +politeness that had followed, if disappointing, had not been repelling, +and the subsequent bedroom chat, with its revelation of musical +accomplishments and foreign experiences, to say nothing of that +wonderful Cremona violin, had made a fresh impression upon Dolly of such +power that even Miss Marr's attractiveness became quite secondary in her +mind. + +Hope could not but see something of this. She was not flattered by it, +however, for as she thought over it, she said to herself,-- + +"It is not the real Hope Benham who attracts her, but a young lady who +has lived abroad, and who is rich enough to own a Cremona violin, and to +play Bach and Beethoven studies upon it. If she knew that I was the girl +who sold her the flowers at the Brookside station, things would be quite +different." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +It was the next morning just after breakfast that Miss Marr, coming out +of her little parlor, met Hope in the hall, and said to her,-- + +"I'm afraid you did not sleep well, my dear; you look heavy-eyed." + +"No, I didn't sleep very well," answered Hope, coloring slightly. + +"Did Miss Dering keep you awake?" + +"Y--es, I suppose so--but--it wasn't so bad as I expected." + +Miss Marr laughed. "Oh! it was not so bad as you expected. She wears +better on further acquaintance. I'm glad to hear that, but I am afraid +she's a great chatterer. However, her room will be in order to-night, so +you won't be together again." + +Hope drew a deep breath of satisfaction, and her face showed +unmistakable signs of relief. Miss Marr took note of these signs, and +thought,-- + +"It is not like Hope to take prejudices against people. I wonder what it +is that she finds so unbearable in this girl. It might help me a good +deal if I knew." + +A few guarded questions at once revealed Miss Marr's state of mind to +Hope, and she immediately hastened to say,-- + +"I'm afraid I've given you a wrong impression; it is only a personal +feeling with me, Miss Marr. I--I met this girl, Dorothea,--they called +her 'Dolly' then,--five years ago, when I was only ten years old. She +has forgotten me, but I never forgot her, for she spoke so rudely, so +unkindly to me at the time, that I can't get over it. That's all. I dare +say the other girls will like her, and I--I've nothing else against +her." + +Miss Marr touched Hope's cheek with her finger,--a caressing way she had +at times, and said gently,-- + +"Thank you, Hope, for being so honest; I can always trust you." + +Hope had been with Miss Marr for the past year, and had won her +confidence and love by the fine sweet strain of her character. + +"She's such an upright, sympathetic little soul, I can trust her with +anything," the Frenchwoman had said to her friends. + +It was one of these friends,--the wife of a scientific man,--that the +Benhams had become acquainted with in Paris, who had suggested Hope as a +pupil to Miss Marr, and told her something of John Benham's career. + +"Such an interesting man," the friend had said, in summing up her +account of him,--"what we call a self-made man, because he has had to +cultivate his tastes by books and private study unhelped by the schools; +but God-made after the finest pattern if ever a man was, and with a nice +sensible wife and this dearest little daughter, whom they have so wisely +determined to send home to their own country to complete her education." + +Angelique Marr recalled these words as she looked at Hope. It was just +at that moment that a door farther down the corridor was energetically +flung open, and Miss Dorothea Dering appeared with her arms full of +books. Hope started, and was turning away in the other direction, when +Dolly called out,-- + +"Oh! Miss--Miss--er--er--Benham, wait a minute; I want to ask you +something." + +Hope waited, putting a detaining hand at the same time upon Miss Marr, +who made a movement to step back into her parlor. + +"I wanted to ask you," said Dolly, as she hurried up, "if you would let +me practise with you sometimes. You play a great deal higher kind of +music than I do, but I _can_ play better things, and I've got a lovely +violin duet that I want awfully to practise with somebody; and if you +only _would_!" with an appealing glance at Hope. + +There was a slight pause, in which Miss Marr regarded Hope with a little +curiosity. Hope Benham's violin-playing was known throughout the school +as something out of the common, and the best of the piano pupils felt +that they were hardly up to playing her accompaniments; and here was +this new-comer proposing a violin duet with her! What would be Hope's +answer to this proposition? There was only the slightest possible pause; +then came this answer,-- + +"My violin practice is very rigidly confined to the studies that my +teacher gives me, and he is very unwilling that I should play anything +else." + +"Oh, music-teachers are always that way! _I_ don't mind 'em," cried +Dolly, airily; "and anyway, you can try some things with me in off +times, can't she, Miss Marr?" + +"Oh, I never encourage pupils to disobey a teacher," answered Miss Marr, +a little amused at Dolly's density in appealing thus to her. + +"Of course not. I forgot; you don't seem like a teacher or anything of +that sort yourself to me; you seem somehow like one of us," said Dolly. +Then turning again to Hope, with a confident nod,-- + +"You just ask your teacher if you can't play with me at off times, won't +you?" + +Hope murmured something vague in the way of reply, but Dolly had no +doubt that her proposition would be carried into effect in due season. +In the mean time, as it had not yet been decided about her own violin +lessons, she determined to practise what she could by herself, and at +odd intervals after this there was heard issuing from her room a variety +of shrill scrapings, at which the girls would shrug their shoulders, and +shake their heads at one another. One day Kate Van der Berg accosted +Hope with this question,-- + +"When do you begin practising that duet with Miss Dering?" + +"Oh, how did you hear about that?" + +"Not from you, Miss Closemouth." + +"But Miss Marr, I know, didn't speak of it." + +"No, Miss Dorothea Dering herself told us that when things were all +settled, the classes arranged, etc., you were going to practise a violin +duet with her." + +"She spoke to Miss Marr and to me about it," answered Hope, evasively. + +"Oh, she spoke to Miss Marr and you about it, and Miss Marr and you +didn't say 'Yes,' and you thought that would be enough of an answer; and +it would, ordinarily, but it won't in this case, you'll see, my dear. +Miss Dorothea Dering is used to having her own way, and, Hope, I'm of +the opinion she'll have it now." + +Hope straightened her slim figure, and that little pucker came into her +forehead that Kate Van der Berg knew so well, whereat Kate laughed, and +said gayly,-- + +"How ungrateful you are, Hope!" + +"Ungrateful! how am I ungrateful?" + +"Not to embrace your opportunities and respond to such overtures. Hope, +what is it that you dislike about Dorothea Dering? I saw from the first +that you had taken a dislike to her." + +Hope flushed uncomfortably. + +"And she seems to admire you immensely. What is it? What have you seen +in her? what do you know about her?" + +"I don't know anything about her for anybody else, only I--It is +entirely my feeling; it needn't prejudice anybody else," cried Hope, +dismayed. + +Kate Van der Berg was a warm-hearted, demonstrative girl, and at the +trouble in Hope's voice and in her face she flung her arms around her, +and said,-- + +"There, there, never mind about her or what I said. It's all right; or +_you_ are all right, whatever she may be." + +Hope put her cheek down upon Kate's shoulder for a moment; then suddenly +lifting her head, she burst out,-- + +"No, no, you mustn't think as you do, that there's anything very bad +that I'm holding back. I mustn't let you think so; it would be wicked in +me. It is only just about myself,--something that she said to me long +ago,--five years ago. She's forgotten it; she's forgotten me. I only met +her for a few minutes, two or three times." + +"The disagreeable thing! I shall hate her!" Kate cried impulsively. + +"No, no, don't say so. I dare say you would have liked her if I--if I +could have kept what I felt to myself, and I thought I did, I thought I +did. Oh, dear!" and Hope stopped abruptly, as she realized that her own +excitement was making matters worse. + +"Liked her! Not if she could have said anything bad enough to hurt you +like this,--to have hurt you for five years." + +"It doesn't hurt me as it did then, but I remember it." + +"Well, that shows what a hurt it must have been." + +"What she said was out of ignorance. She didn't know any better," Hope +went on, determined to do the honorable thing by her childish enemy. + +"I don't believe she knows much better now. Oh, you needn't try to +smooth it all over to me, you little conscientious thing; it's of no +use." + +"But, Kate, promise me one thing,--that you won't--you won't talk to the +other girls about it." + +"Yes, I'll promise you that I'll be as mum as an oyster." + +"And you won't--you won't be--" + +"Disagreeable to her?" interrupted Kate, laughing. "Well, I'll try not +to be; I'll take pattern by you, and be so politely fascinating that +she'll ask me to play duets with her." + +Hope could not help laughing at this, but all the time she felt +disturbed and troubled. Kate Van der Berg had playfully jibed at her for +her conscientiousness. Kate thought she was over-conscientious, and she +might have been sometimes, for she was a sensitive creature, with high +notions and ideas of truth and justice and honor, and her father had +developed these ideas by his advice and counsel. One of the things that +he had impressed upon her was never to take advantage of any one, +especially any one that you had had a quarrel with. "Fair play, my dear, +always; remember that, and so you must remember to be open and above +board after you've had any differences with people, and never let +yourself say or hint damaging things about them, to prejudice others," +was one of his favorite pieces of counsel, put in one form and another, +at various times. Hope thought of these words even when she joined in +Kate Van der Berg's laughter. She thought of them after Kate had left +her, and all through the rest of the day they would start up to torment +her. At last she said to herself: "This is over-conscientious, for _I +didn't mean_ to prejudice any one against Dolly Dering. I tried not to +show how I felt, and if I didn't succeed, it isn't my fault; but I'm a +great goose to fuss so. Kate will keep her promise, I know, and Miss +Dorothea Dering won't be unpopular because of anything I have said." + +So the matter rested, and the days went on, the school arrangements +settling into order, and the school companionships falling into the +usual adjustment by personal choice. When everything seemed to be +running smoothly, Dolly came forward again with her proposition. It was +one afternoon when she heard the sound of a violin floating down from +the music-room. It was the first time she had heard it, and obeying her +headlong impulse, she ran swiftly up the stairs and knocked at the door. +A voice called out, "Come in;" and obeying it, she found herself not +only in the presence of Hope, but of Kate Van der Berg, Myra +Donaldson,--Hope's lately returned room-mate,--and Anna Fleming. Myra +was seated at the piano, a sheet of music before her, waiting for Hope +to signal to her. All the girls looked up and bowed as Dolly entered, +but no one spoke. They were intent upon watching Hope, who, bow in hand, +was carefully testing the strings that she had just tightened. + +Dolly came round and stood beside Kate Van der Berg at the back of the +piano, which was a parlor grand placed half-way down the room. She +started to whisper, "What is it they--" but was checked by Kate's "Hush! +hush!" and just then the bow was brought to bear softly upon the +strings, as Hope began playing the sonata in F major by Beethoven. Once +or twice as the music progressed, Kate glanced at Dolly with a new +interest. What was this cool intruder--for such Kate dubbed +her--thinking as she listened to these exquisitely rendered strains? Was +she properly astonished and ashamed of herself for proposing to join +such a performer in a violin duet? Dolly's face betrayed nothing, +however. She simply stood perfectly still, leaning a little forward +against the piano, her big black eyes fixed in a steady gaze, now upon +Hope's violin bow, and now upon Hope herself. She stood thus until near +the close, when the difficult and delightful passages approach the +climax. Then her eyes wandered, her features relaxed, and when the end +came, she was ready with a little outburst of vigorous applause, which +she followed up with,-- + +"You ought to play in public at concerts. But how you _must_ have +worked! I'm not up to the classic, and I can't play like you, anyway. +What I like, what I _love_, is dance music,--waltzes,--and I've got the +loveliest duet in that time. It'll be as easy as A B C too. I'll run and +get it now, and my violin, and you just try it with me, and--oh, say, +have you asked your teacher what I told you to? You haven't? Well, never +mind for anybody's permission. 'T won't take you long; I'll--" + +"You really must excuse me, but I can't play any more now," interrupted +Hope's voice, as Dolly turned to go for her violin. + +"Oh, dear, I wish I'd come sooner, before you had started off on that +long thing. But will you play with me to-morrow about this time? Or why +not to-night after dinner?" + +"But," with a queer little smile, "I haven't asked my teacher's +permission yet." + +"No, and I don't believe you care two pins about that," answered Dolly. + +"Well, I don't believe it would be of any use," responded Hope, +guardedly. + +"Then say to-night after dinner." + +"To-night after dinner I had promised to read French with Kate Van der +Berg." + +"Oh, well, there'll be time enough for that too; and you won't mind, +will you, if she plays with me first?" addressing Kate. + +"Mind? I shall mind a great deal," Kate made haste to reply. "I know how +it is when these musical people get started; they never know when to +stop. No, she's promised to me to-night, and I'm not going to let her +off." + +All this was said in a bright, laughing way, that hadn't an atom of +unfriendliness in the tone of it; and Dolly had not the faintest idea +that her proposition was being decidedly snubbed, as she listened. The +other girls were wiser. The moment that Hope refused to play in the way +she did, they knew that the proposition was distasteful to her; and when +Kate Van der Berg came to the support of this refusal with that quick, +bright decision, they knew that _she_ knew more than they did why the +proposition was distasteful. + +Anna Fleming, who was Kate's room-mate, said to her a little later,-- + +"Kate, didn't you think it was rather disobliging of Hope Benham not to +play that duet with Dorothea Dering?" + +"Disobliging! Well, that is a way to put it. I think it was the most +forward, presuming--what my brother Schuyler would call 'the cheekiest +thing' for that girl to take it for granted that such a violinist as +Hope Benham would want to practise her little rubbishy waltzes with +her." + +"But she didn't know probably what a splendid player Hope was, when she +first asked her." + +"She knew, didn't she, after she had heard the sonata?" + +"Yes, I suppose she had some idea, but she might not have been a very +good judge. She said, you know, at once that she couldn't play like +Hope, anyway." + +"Yes, I heard her; so kind of her to say that," cried Kate, +sarcastically. + +Anna laughed. Then, "What's the matter with 'that girl,' as you call +her?" she asked. + +"Matter! well, I should think you could see as well as I that she is a +forward sort of thing; that's all I've got against her," Kate concluded +hastily, remembering her promise to Hope. + +"Hope must have taken a great dislike to her." + +"Why should you think that?" + +"Because I never knew Hope Benham to set herself up on her +violin-playing before, and refuse to play with anybody." + + +"Nobody has ever asked her to play a violin duet. It is she who has +asked one of us to play an accompaniment for her now and then. You know +that _we_ should never have thought of going forward and offering to +play for her." + +"Oh, well, we knew all about her playing from Miss Marr. But you say +nobody has ever asked her to play a violin duet. How about that little +Vernon girl who left last term? Hope used to play with _her_ a great +deal, and Milly used to ask her too. Hope didn't care particularly for +Milly Vernon." + +"But she wanted to help her." + +"And she wanted to be obliging too. Hope Benham has always been one of +the kindest and most obliging girls in school." + +"And she is now, but she has some sense and spirit, and probably doesn't +mean to have a new-comer like Dorothea Dering take full possession of +her on short acquaintance." + +"Yes, it _is_ a pretty short acquaintance," responded Anna, +thoughtfully. + +"That last remark of mine was a happy hit," thought Kate, triumphantly. +"It has disposed of all the surmises about Hope's dislike, but," she +further thought, "I wonder how this violin business is going to end. I +prophesy that Miss Dorothea Dering will carry the day, and Hope will +play that duet with her yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +The first two months at school generally pass very quickly; after that, +the time is apt to move a little slower. The first two months at Miss +Marr's school passed so quickly that the girls all confessed themselves +"so surprised" when December came with Christmas scarcely more than +three weeks away. Miss Marr gave a vacation on Christmas week, when the +boarding-girls, as those who were inmates of her house were called, +could go to their homes, if not too far off, and return by New Year's +eve, for it was a fixed rule that they must all be back by that time, +and not one of them but was delighted to obey this rule, for not one of +them would have lost Miss Marr's New Year's party, which, according to +Kate Van der Berg, was the best fun of the year. + +"But what do you do, what _is_ the fun?" inquired Dolly Dering, who was +present when Kate made the above statement. + +"What do we do?" answered Kate. "Well, in the first place, on New Year's +eve, we have a jolly little party of just ourselves,--we girls in the +house, none of the outside girls, the day pupils,--and we play games, +sing songs, tell stories, do anything, in fact, that we want to do, and +at half-past ten there is a little light supper served, such as ices, +and the most delicious frosted sponge-cakes, and seed-cakes, and then +there is bread and butter, and hot cocoa for those that want it. After +this we feel as fresh and rested as possible, and all ready to sit the +old year out and the new year in." + +"Oh, you _don't_ do that?" cried Dolly, delightedly, for to sit up late +was one of her ideas of happiness. + +"We do just that" + +"Well, and then?" + +"Then," went on Kate, laughing, "we begin to grow a little quieter. We +tell stories in lower voices; we watch the clock, and as it strikes +twelve, we jump to our feet and all break out singing a New Year's song +or hymn. Sometimes it is one thing and sometimes it is another. Last +year it was Tennyson's + + "Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky: + The year is dying; let him die." + +"And Hope's violin playing," exclaimed Myra Donaldson here. "Don't you +remember how Hope played the violin last year? She just made it talk; +don't you remember?" + +"Oh, yes," went on Kate, hurriedly. "Hope played, and then we all wished +each other a 'Happy New Year,' and went to bed. The next day--" + +"What did she play?" asked Dolly, breaking in upon Kate here. + +"Oh, she played--she played--" + +"Robert Franz's 'Good-night' song and Behr's 'Good-morning,'" struck in +Myra again, impatient at Kate's hesitation. + +"Oh, I know Franz's 'Good-night,' and doesn't the 'Good morning' go like +this?" asked Dolly, beginning to whistle the air of Behr's. + +"Yes, that is it, and I played the accompaniment," answered Myra. "It +was just delicious. We all cried, for it seemed as if the violin sang +the very words." + +"I never heard either of them on the violin, but my sister sings them +both," said Dolly. + +"I think these were arranged for the violin by Hope's teacher, specially +for Hope," exclaimed Myra. "I think Hope--" + +"Don't you want to hear what we did the next day and the next evening?" +called out Kate, exasperated at Myra's harping on Hope and her violin to +Dolly. + +"Oh, yes;" and Dolly brightened up expectantly. Myra, at that moment +receiving a sharp little reminder under the table from Kate's foot, and +another reminder from Kate's warning look, subsided into silence, while +Kate took up her story of New Year's day and evening. + +"Of course, after that midnight watch, we breakfasted late,--oh, so +late! and the best part of it was, we breakfasted in our rooms." + +"In your rooms?" exclaimed Dolly. + +"Yes, at ten o'clock, tap, tap, came on our doors, and enter Susette +with a tray, on which was a delicious breakfast for two, and a dear +little bouquet of flowers for each of us. Isn't Miss Marr a dear to +think of such things?" + +"Will she do the same this year?" questioned Dolly, eagerly. + +"Oh, yes; she has always done the same in the main things,--the evening +luncheon or little supper on New Year's eve, the sitting out, then the +breakfast, and the reception party New Year's night. She only varies +some of the details." + +"Oh, you have an evening party New Year's night?" + +"Yes, indeed." + +"Who is invited? Who comes?" + +"Well, I can tell you one thing,--that everybody comes who is lucky +enough to be invited, and the invited are all the outside girls and one +friend of each; that is, each girl can invite one friend. We +boarding-girls have the same privilege. I always invite one of my +relations, and isn't there a scramble amongst them to see which it shall +be?" + +"And what do you do at the party?" + +Kate looked a little disgusted at this question. "What do we do? We do +what most people do at a party," she answered rather tartly. + +"Well, what I meant was, do you dance?" asked Dolly, in a +half-apologetic tone. + +"Dance? I should think we did, and we have music, and at the very end +the best fun of all." + +"I shouldn't think it would be such great fun, just to dance with +girls." + +"You are not obliged to dance with girls." + +"What! You don't mean--that there are young fellows--men?" + +"There are _boys_,--that's what I call them,--boys like my brother +Schuyler. Schuyler is seventeen." + +Dolly gave a long drawn "Oh!" It was evidently an "Oh" of relief; but +directly she asked, with demure mischief,-- + +"Can't you have 'em over seventeen?" + +Kate laughed. "Well, we can't have regular grown-ups, you know, and we +don't want them. But we can have them all the way from fifteen to +eighteen, I believe." + +"How odd! Doesn't Miss Marr think we are up to conversation with +grown-up young gentlemen?" + +"She thinks probably that 'grown-up gentlemen,' as you call +them,--gentlemen out in society,--wouldn't care to come to a school-girl +party, and that it is much more suitable to have boys of our own +age,--boys we all know, or most of us know, at any rate, and who have +something the same interests that we have,--school interests, and things +of that kind. For my part, I shouldn't know what to say to gentlemen so +much older than myself." + +"Oh, wouldn't you?" cried Dolly, with an air--a knowing sort of +air--that exasperated Kate. "I have a grown-up sister, and I've seen a +good many of her gentlemen visitors. I never found it hard to talk to +them," went on Dolly, with a still more knowing air. + +"And I have a grown-up brother," retorted Kate, "and I've heard him tell +how men go on about half-grown girls and their forwardness and boldness +and pertness, and how they--the young men--disliked that kind of thing, +or else amused themselves with it for a little while, and then made fun +of it." + +Dolly's face had flushed scarlet at these words, and at the end she +burst forth angrily,-- + +"I suppose you mean that when I talked with my sister's, I must have +been forward and bold and pert." + +It was Kate's turn now to flush. She saw that in her irritation--Dolly +was apt to irritate her--she had been unwarrantably rude, and swallowing +her mortification, she at once made haste to say,-- + +"I beg your pardon, I--I shouldn't have spoken as I did. I am very +sorry." + +Dolly gave a quick glance at the speaker, hesitated a moment, as if +waiting for something further, then jumped up and flounced out of the +room with an angry impetus that there was no mistaking. + +"Well, that is interesting, I must confess," ejaculated Kate. "I begged +her pardon; what more did she want?" + +"She wanted you to say that you hadn't the least idea of _her_ in your +mind,--that you didn't mean that _she_ was forward or pert, and you said +nothing of the sort; you only begged her pardon for having _spoken_ as +you did," explained Myra Donaldson, giggling a little. + +"And that is what I meant,--just that,--that I was sorry for having +spoken--" + +"Your thoughts," said Myra, giggling again. + +"Dorothea is generally a good-natured girl," spoke up Anna Fleming here, +with a kind impulse to be just. + +"Oh, _I_ like Dorothea very well. I should like her better if she didn't +bounce and flounce so. You can't say that her manners are as nice as +they might be, can you?" said Myra, looking appealingly at Anna. + +"N--o, I can't say that her manners are really nice," answered Anna. + +"_I_ think she is vulgar!" Kate suddenly snapped out, with a vehemence +that quite startled the other two girls. + +"Vulgar! why, Kate, she's one of the Boston Derings." + +Kate made a little face, and then in a sarcastic voice, "Who are the +Boston Derings?" she asked. + +"Now, Kate, you know perfectly well that the Boston Derings belong to +the best society in Massachusetts, and that they have always belonged to +it from the first," protested Anna, getting things rather mixed in her +eagerness. + +"From the first!" repeated Kate, laughing derisively. "I suppose you +mean from the time of Adam." + +"Now, Kate, you know perfectly well what I mean. The Derings came from +an old family." + +"Like Sandy MacDougal." + +"Eh--what--who is Sandy MacDougal?" + +"Our gardener. He came straight to us from Scotland, and he's as proud +as a peacock of his family. He says the MacDougals have been first-class +gardeners for generations." + +Myra Donaldson gave another of her giggles, but Anna did not join in her +levity. Instead of that she said with dignity,-- + +"What _I_ mean is an old family like the Van der Bergs." + +Kate flushed rosy red. This was "a retort courteous," and for a moment +she was dumb; but a moment after, she sat up in her chair, and cried +laughingly,-- + +"The Van der Bergs are not proud, except of one thing in their family +history." + +"What's that?" inquired Anna, quickly. + +Kate laughed again. "It is the performance of a long-ago ancestor,--a +Dutch boatman named Van der Berg. It was in that early time when the +Netherlanders were struggling against Spain to establish their own +liberty and independence. William the Silent, Prince of Orange, you +know, who had been the Netherlanders' best friend when he was at the +head of their commonwealth, was dead, and his son, Maurice, Prince of +Nassau, was working with John of olden Barneveld to help the +Netherlanders, as his father had been doing, to become strong enough to +get altogether out of the clutches of Spain. But how ridiculous of me to +talk history to you like this, just because of that old story! To change +the conversation, what is it you are knitting, Anna,--a shawl or a +cape?" + +"No, no, we don't want to change the conversation," protested Anna and +Myra, who knew quite well what a delightful story-teller Kate was, and +never more delightful than when she was "talking history,"--telling +"true stories," as they expressed it. Neither of the girls was very fond +of _studying_ history, but they were very fond of listening to Kate +whenever she would "talk it," or whenever she would pick out of it +its--to them--labyrinthine mazes some stirring incident, and read it to +them. So their protest now was very decisive against any change of +conversation; and thus urged to go back to her subject, Kate went on +with the story of her ancestor. She had not gone far, however, when she +stopped short again, saying,-- + +"But wait! Motley tells the story so beautifully in his 'United +Netherlands;' let me read it to you in his own words. It's too bad to +try to tell it in _my_ words; and here's the book right on this lower +library shelf." + +[Illustration: "IT WAS THE WORK OF A MOMENT TO POSSESS HERSELF OF THE +BOOK"] + +It was the work of a moment to possess herself of the book; and the +girls, settling themselves comfortably in their chairs, gave themselves +up to the pleasure of listening to the following spirited narrative:-- + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +"The fair and pleasant city of Breda lies on the Merk,--a slender stream +navigable for small vessels, which finds its way to the sea through the +great canal of the Dental. It had been the property of the Princes of +Orange, Barons of Breda, and had passed with the other possessions of +the family to the house of Châlons-Nassau. Henry of Nassau had, half a +century before, adorned and strengthened it by a splendid +palace-fortress, which, surrounded by a deep and double moat, thoroughly +commanded the town. A garrison of five companies of Italian infantry and +one of cavalry lay in this castle, which was under the command of Edward +Lanzavecchia, governor both of Breda and of the neighboring +Gertruydenberg. Breda was an important strategical position. It was, +moreover, the feudal superior of a large number of adjacent villages, as +well as of the cities of Osterhout, Steenberg, and Rosendaal. It was +obviously not more desirable for Maurice of Nassau to recover his +patrimonial city than it was for the States-General to drive the +Spaniards from so important a position. + +"In the month of February, 1590, Maurice, being then at the castle of +Voorn, in Zeeland, received a secret visit from a boatman,--Adrian Van +der Berg by name,--who lived at the village of Leur, eight or ten miles +from Breda, and who had been in the habit of supplying the castle with +turf. In the absence of wood and coal-mines, the habitual fuel of the +country was furnished by those vast relics of the antediluvian forests, +which abounded in the still partially submerged soil. The skipper +represented that his vessel had passed so often into and out of the +castle as to be hardly liable to search by the guard on its entrance. He +suggested a stratagem by which it might be possible to surprise the +stronghold. The prince approved of the scheme, and immediately consulted +with Barneveld. That statesman at once proposed, as a suitable man to +carry out the daring venture, Captain Charles de Heraugiere,--a nobleman +of Cambray,--who had been long in the service of the States, had +distinguished himself at Sluys and on other occasions, but who had been +implicated in Leicester's nefarious plot to gain possession of the city +of Leyden, a few years before. The advocate expressed confidence that he +would be grateful for so signal an opportunity of retrieving a somewhat +damaged reputation. Heraugiere, who was with his company in Voorn at the +moment, eagerly signified his desire to attempt the enterprise as soon +as the matter was communicated to him, avowing the deepest devotion to +the House of William the Silent, and perfect willingness to sacrifice +his life, if necessary, in its cause and that of the country. Philip +Nassau, cousin of Prince Maurice, and brother of Lewis William, Governor +of Gorcum Dorcum and Lowenstein Castle, and colonel of a regiment of +cavalry, was also taken into the secret, as well as Count Hohenlo, +President Van der Myle, and a few others; but a mystery was carefully +spread and maintained over the undertaking. Heraugiere selected +sixty-eight men, on whose personal daring and patience he knew that he +could rely, from the regiments of Philip Nassau and Famars, governor of +the neighboring city of Hensden, and from his own company. Besides +himself, the officers to command the party were Captains Lozier and +Fervet, and Lieutenant Matthew Held. The names of such devoted soldiers +deserve to be commemorated, and are still freshly remembered by their +countrymen. + +"On the 25th of February, Maurice and his staff went to Willemstad, on +the isle of Klundert, it having been given out on his departure from the +Hague that his destination was Dort. On the same night, at about eleven +o'clock, by the feeble light of a waning moon, Heraugiere and his band +came to the Swertsenburg ferry, as agreed upon, to meet the boatman. +They found neither him nor his vessel, and they wandered about half the +night, very cold, very indignant, much perplexed. At last, on their way +back, they came upon the skipper at the village of Terheyde, who made +the extraordinary excuse that he had overslept himself, and that he +feared the plot had been discovered. It being too late to make any +attempt that night, a meeting was arranged for the following evening. No +suspicion of treachery occurred to any of the party, although it became +obvious that the skipper had grown faint-hearted. He did not come on the +next night to the appointed place, but he sent two nephews, boatmen like +himself, whom he described as dare-devils. + +"On Monday night, the 26th of February, the seventy went on board the +vessel, which was apparently filled with blocks of turf, and packed +themselves closely in the hold. They moved slowly during a little time +on their perilous voyage, for the winter wind, thick with fog and sleet, +blew directly down the river, bringing along with it huge blocks of ice, +and scooping the water out of the dangerous shallows, so as to render +the vessel at any moment liable to be stranded. At last the navigation +became impossible, and they came to a standstill. From Monday night till +Thursday morning those seventy Hollanders lay packed like herrings in +the hold of their little vessel, suffering from hunger, thirst, and +deadly cold; yet not one of them attempted to escape or murmured a wish +to abandon the enterprise. Even when the third morning dawned, there was +no better prospect of proceeding, for the remorseless east wind still +blew a gale against them, and the shoals which beset their path had +become more dangerous than ever. It was, however, absolutely necessary +to recruit exhausted nature, unless the adventurers were to drop +powerless on the threshold when they should at last arrive at their +destination. In all secrecy they went ashore at a lonely castle called +Nordam, where they remained to refresh themselves until about eleven at +night, when one of the boatmen came to them with the intelligence that +the wind had changed and was now blowing freshly from the sea. Yet the +voyage of a few leagues, on which they were embarked, lasted nearly two +whole days longer; on Saturday afternoon they passed through the last +sluice, and at about three o'clock the last boom was shut behind them. +There was no retreat possible for them now. The seventy were to take the +strong castle and city of Breda or to lay down their lives every man of +them. No quarter and short shrift,--such was their certain destiny, +should that crippled, half-frozen little band not succeed in their task +before another sunrise. + +"They were now in the outer harbor, and not far from the water-gate +which led into the inner castle-haven. Presently an officer of the guard +put off in a skiff and came on board the vessel. Those inside could see +and hear his every movement. Had there been a single cough or sneeze +from within, the true character of the cargo, then making its way into +the castle, would have been discovered, and every man would, within ten +minutes, have been butchered. But the officer, unsuspecting, soon took +his departure, saying that he would send some men to warp the vessel +into the castle dock. + +"Meantime, as the adventurers were making their way slowly towards the +water-gate, they struck upon a hidden obstruction in the river, and the +deeply laden vessel sprang a leak. In a few minutes those inside were +sitting up to their knees in water,--a circumstance which scarcely +improved their already sufficiently dismal condition. The boatmen +vigorously plied the pumps to save the vessel from sinking outright; a +party of Italian soldiers soon arrived on the shore, and in the course +of a couple of hours they had laboriously dragged the concealed +Hollanders into the inner harbor and made their vessel fast, close to +the guard-house of the castle. And now a crowd of all sorts came on +board. The winter nights had been long and fearfully cold, and there was +almost a dearth of fuel both in town and fortress. A gang of laborers +set to work discharging the turf from the vessel with such rapidity that +the departing daylight began to shine in upon the prisoners much sooner +than they wished. Moreover the thorough wetting to which, after all +their other inconveniences they had just been exposed, in their narrow +escape from foundering, had set the whole party sneezing and coughing. +Never was a catarrh so sudden, so universal, or ill-timed. Lieutenant +Held, unable to control the violence of his cough, drew his dagger and +eagerly implored his next neighbor to stab him to the heart, lest his +infirmity should lead to the discovery of the whole party. But the calm +and wary skipper who stood on the deck instantly commanded his companion +to work at the pump with as much chatter as possible, assuring the +persons present that the hold was nearly full of water. By this means +the noise of the coughing was effectually drowned. Most thoroughly did +the bold boatman deserve the title of "dare-devil" bestowed by his more +faint-hearted uncle. Calmly looking death in the face, he stood there, +quite at his ease, exchanging jokes with his old acquaintances, +chaffering with the eager purchasers of peat, shouting most noisy and +superfluous orders to the one man who composed his crew, doing his +utmost, in short, to get rid of his customers and to keep enough of the +turf on board to conceal the conspirators. At last, when the case seemed +almost desperate, he loudly declared that sufficient had been unladen +for that evening and that it was too dark and he was too tired for +further work. So giving a handful of stivers among the workmen, he bade +them go ashore at once and have some beer, and come next morning for the +rest of the cargo. Fortunately, they accepted his hospitable proposition +and took their departure; only the servant of the captain of the guard +lingered behind, complaining that the turf was not as good as usual, and +that his master would never be satisfied with it. + +"'Ah!' returned the cool skipper, '_the best part of the cargo is +underneath. This is expressly reserved for the captain. He is sure to +get enough of it to-morrow_.' + +"Thus admonished, the servant departed, and the boatman was left to +himself. His companion had gone on shore with secret orders to make the +best of his way to Prince Maurice, to inform him of the arrival of the +ship within the fortress, and of the important fact which they had just +learned that Governor Lanzavecchia, who had heard rumors of some +projected enterprise, and who suspected that the object aimed at was +Gertruydenberg, had suddenly taken his departure from that city, leaving +as his lieutenant his nephew Paola, a raw lad, quite incompetent to +provide for the safety of Breda. A little before midnight, Captain +Heraugiere made a brief address to his comrades in the vessel, telling +them that the hour for carrying out their undertaking had at length +arrived. Retreat was impossible, defeat was certain death; only in +complete victory lay their own safety and a great advantage for the +Commonwealth. It was an honor for them to be selected for such an +enterprise. To show cowardice now would be an eternal shame for them, +and he would be the man to strike dead with his own hand any traitor or +poltroon. But if, as he doubted not, every one was prepared to do his +duty, their success was assured, and he was himself ready to take the +lead in confronting every danger. He then divided the little band into +two companies,--one under himself to attack the main guard-house, the +other under Fernet to seize the arsenal of the fortress. Noiselessly +they stole out of the ship where they had so long been confined, and +stood at last on the ground within the precincts of the castle. +Heraugiere marched straight to the guard-house. + +"'Who goes there?' cried a sentinel, hearing some movement in the +darkness. + +"'A friend,' replied the captain, seizing him by the throat, and +commanding him, as he valued his life, to keep silence except when +addressed, and then to speak in a whisper. + +"'How many are there in the garrison?' muttered Heraugiere. + +"'Three hundred and fifty,' whispered the sentinel. + +"'How many?' eagerly demanded the nearest followers, not hearing the +reply. + +"'He says there are but fifty of them,' said Heraugiere, prudently +suppressing the three hundred, in order to encourage his comrades. + +"Quietly as they had made their approach, there was nevertheless a stir +in the guard-house. The captain of the watch sprang into the courtyard. + +"'Who goes?' he demanded in his turn. + +"'A friend,' again replied Heraugiere, striking him dead with a single +blow as he spoke. + +"Others emerged with torches. Heraugiere was slightly wounded, but +succeeded, after a brief struggle, in killing a second assailant. His +followers set upon the watch, who retreated into the guard-house. +Heraugiere commanded his men to fire through the doors and windows, and +in a few minutes every one of the enemy lay dead. It was not a moment +for making prisoners or speaking of quarter. Meantime Fervet and his +band had not been idle. The magazine house of the castle was seized, its +defenders slain. Young Lanzavecchia made a sally from the palace, was +wounded, and driven back with a few of his adherents. The rest of the +garrison fled helter-skelter into the town. Never had the musketeers of +Italy--for they all belonged to Spinola's famous Sicilian +Legion--behaved so badly. They did not even take the precaution to +destroy the bridge between the castle and the town, as they fled +panic-stricken before seventy Hollanders. Instead of encouraging the +burghers to their support, they spread dismay as they ran through every +street. Young Lanzavecchia, penned into a corner of the castle, began to +parley, hoping for a rally before a surrender should be necessary. In +the midst of the negotiation, and a couple of hours before dawn, +Hohenlo, duly apprised by the boatman, arrived with the vanguard of +Maurice's troops before the field-gate of the fort. A vain attempt was +made to force this portal open, but the winter's ice had fixed it fast. +Hohenlo was obliged to batter down the palisade near the water-gate, and +enter by the same road through which the fatal turf-boat had passed. +Soon after he had marched into the town at the head of a strong +detachment, Prince Maurice himself arrived in great haste, attended by +Philip Nassau, the Admiral Justinus Nassau, Count Solms, Peter Van der +Does, and Sir Francis Vere, and followed by another body of picked +troops; the musicians playing merrily that national air, then, as now, +so dear to Netherlanders,-- + + 'Wilhelmus van Nassonwen + Ben ick van Duytsem bloed.' + +"The fight was over. Some forty of the garrison had been killed, but not +a man of the attacking party. The burgomaster sent a trumpet to the +prince, asking permission to come to the castle to arrange a +capitulation; and before sunrise the city and fortress of Breda had +surrendered to the authority of the States-General and of his +Excellency. + +"There, I ought not to have read all that long story,--I've tired you +out, I know," exclaimed Kate, apologetically, as she closed her book. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +"Tired us out? No, indeed, you haven't," cried the girls in a breath; +and one of the girls was Hope, who had come in softly just as Kate had +begun to read, and who now added,-- + +"It's lovely to listen to anything when you read it, Kate." + +"Isn't it!" took up Myra. "Miss Marr ought to pay Kate a salary for the +good she does in this history business. I hate to _study_ it; I always +get all in a wabble with the dates and the names and the places, and by +and by, when I try to tell about it or think about it, I get a +fifteenth-century king into the sixteenth century just as likely as not. +But when Kate picks out her little nuggets of gold from the mass, and +sets them before me, I begin to see daylight." + +"So do I, so do I!" cried Anna Fleming; "and another thing,--I am not +ashamed to ask Kate ignorant questions." + +"Nor I," declared Myra; and then they all laughed, and Myra followed up +the laugh by immediately proceeding to ask two or three of these +"ignorant questions,"--the first being, "If Spain had possession of +Breda, what does it mean by the Italian infantry and cavalry being there +to defend it?" + +"It means that at that time," answered Kate, "Philip II., called Philip +the Prudent, had possession of the better portion of Italy, with other +territory that he had gobbled up, and so, of course, he made use of +Italian soldiers." + +"Who was Lewis William?" + +"He was the stadt of Friesland,--Friesland was part of the Netherlands." + +"Oh, and what became of the dare-devil skipper,--Van der Berg,--your +ancestor?" + +"Oh, he didn't come to anything wonderful,--he 'fought and bled' in +freedom's cause like most of those Dutchmen, I suppose." + +"But there was a family of Van _den_ Bergs who were cousins to Maurice," +here spoke up Hope. "Were these any relations to Van der Berg, the +skipper?" + +"Oh, no,--we didn't descend from princes and counts," laughed Kate. + +"I don't believe but that it _is_ the Van den you belong to, anyway," +said Anna. + +"Nonsense," cried Kate; "if we 'belong,' as you say, to a family of that +early day, it is to the dare-devil Van der Bergs, and that's good enough +for me. My brother Schuyler ought to hear you give preference to the Van +_den_ Bergs. He would be ready to fight a duel with you; for, from a +little boy, he has been perfectly enchanted with that story of the +dare-devil, and when we were all at home five years ago,--little things +of ten and eleven and twelve,--we used to play the story, and we called +it 'The Siege of Breda.' It was when we were up at our summer place on +the Hudson. It was such fun. We had a queer little cottage on the place, +that had a lot of gables and turrets. It was unoccupied, except as a +sort of storehouse for fruit; and this cottage we called 'the castle.' A +rather wide stream of water runs through the grounds, and broadens out +into a sort of miniature lake at the foot of the garden. It was just +across this broader part, where it was also quite deep, that the cottage +showed its turrets and gables, and we got the gardener and one of the +stable men to build up a sort of palisade of bricks and stones and +boards all about it. Inside this we made a guard-house, and the arsenal +was in the castle itself. Then we knew an old sailor who fixed up our +little yacht, made a cabin and hold, where the boys crept in,--the boys +who represented the attacking party, the seventy Hollanders,--and we +packed around them a lot of dry moss we had prepared, to represent turf. +Mr. Brown--our old sailor--also fixed up something that did duty for a +water-gate. Well, when we had got everything as near to our minds as +possible, we dressed ourselves up in our costumes,--oh, yes, we had +regular costumes. My uncle Schuyler said it was a real history lesson +for us, and he should do all he could to help it along; and so he hunted +up some books that had the illustrations of the costumes of that time, +and we got mamma and a seamstress we had to help us make up suits for +us." + +"And did _you_ take part?" asked Myra. + +"Did _I_ take part? Well, I should think I did. _I_ was Captain Charles +de Heraugiere, if you please. And oh, the cunning little suit I had,--a +regular fighting suit of imitation leather and a rough-looking sort of +stuff like frieze, and a sort of waistcoat of chamois skin, and then a +dear little hat with a feather;--oh, and boots with tops that came 'way +up to the knee-bend. We made the tops ourselves of mock leather, russet +color, and sewed them to our russet shoes. Oh, it was _such_ fun!" + +"But your brother--what character did he take?" + +"Oh, there was but one character that _he_ would take, and that was the +dare-devil boatman who stood on the deck and joked with the purchasers +of the peat. You should have seen Schuyler as he did it. It was +moonlight, for mamma and papa wouldn't let us play it as we wanted to on +a dark night, for there might be an accident; but we ran the boat down +by some sheltering bushes, and the boys who took the part of the +purchasers from the castle stood in the lighter place where the +moonlight fell, and that left the place where our hidden soldiers were +quite dusky and mysterious. But Schuyler stood in the light, the moon +shining straight in his face. His suit was a good deal rougher than +mine, but a good deal like it; only he had a cap on, and that was pushed +back, and he looked so handsome and bold when he joked and laughed and +answered the purchasers. Then when we soldiers stole out of the ship +where we were in hiding--What! how could I see Schuyler when I was +hidden? Oh, I peeped through the moss. And how many boys had we? Oh, +twenty in all,--about eight in the boat,--it wouldn't hold any more; but +the eight of them made _such_ a show in their costumes. They were all +our neighbors and close friends, the whole twenty of them. Four were the +Dyker brothers, and the Burton boys with _their_ cousins who had come up +a-visiting them from Philadelphia; and there were our boys and the Van +Loons and Delmars to make up the twenty. But, as I was saying, when we +soldiers stole up out of the vessel, and I marched at the head of my +band, the dare-devil _would_ lead the way. I told him it was all out of +order, but he declared that Captain Heraugiere _couldn't_ know the way +as the dare-devil who had carried the peat so often must know it, and +that of course he must be guided; so I had to give in. + +"We started our play at the point where the officer of the guard puts off +from the castle in a skiff, and comes on board our vessel; then, after +that, we slip down through the water-gate,--of course we don't have any +leak,--the Burton boys and the Van Loons come to the shore and drag us +into the harbor and make the vessel fast, close to the guard-house. It +was just after that, you know, that the dare-devil receives the +purchasers, and goes through all that joking and sending the people off, +saying that he was tired. And then I followed as Captain Heraugiere; and +what do you think!--Schuyler at first wanted to be Captain Heraugiere +too. He said he could easily manage it; but it was when he found he +wouldn't be allowed to gobble up the two characters, he insisted upon +showing the captain the way, and so he stuck to me all through, +flourishing his wooden sword on the slightest excuse. But how we did lay +about us! Whack, whack, we knocked over the Burtons, and all the rest of +the Italians, with the young Lanzavecchia at their head; and then came +the great end of the victory, the arrival of Hohenlo with the vanguard +of Maurice's troops, and then Prince Maurice himself with his fine +attendants,--his counts and admirals, and these were the Van Loons and +the Burtons again, who had rigged themselves up in other clothes,--nice +honest Dutch clothes to play the Netherlander parts. So we turned and +twisted our twenty boys, just as they do on the stage, and you'd have +thought there were a host of them. Well, when the vanguard arrived, we +all joined together and marched into the town--that is, around our +grounds and into the castle, the Dyker brothers, who are musical, +playing the national air with a drum and fife and cornet, and some of +the rest of us, breaking out now and then at the top of our voices into +the chorus,-- + + 'Wilhelmus van Nassouwen + Ben ick van Duytsem bloed,' + +which means, + + 'William from Nassau, + I am from German blood.' + +William from Nassau, you know, was the great Prince of Orange. + +"And marching to this playing and singing, we entered the castle,--our +cottage,--where a table had been set with a lot of Dutch dainties, made +by our German cook, Wilhelmina, who had lived in Holland and knew +everything about the dear little Dutch cakes and things they eat there. +Then, after we had partaken of the feast, the table was carried out, and +we danced to our heart's content. Oh, we did have such a good time, and +we kept it up every year until we got too old for it." + +"What fun it _must_ have been!" cried Myra. "I wish I could have been +there; but didn't you have any other girl but yourself in the play with +those twenty boys?" + +"No, not in the play; but we had plenty of girls as spectators and at +the feast and dancing." + +"And did you ever make a play out of any other historical incident?" +asked Anna Fleming. + +"Yes, several; and I think that is the reason why historical events +became so fixed in my mind, and I got so interested in reading history. +It began by accident, as you might say,--that is, by Schuyler's delight +in the Van der Berg story, and insisting on playing it. It's the best +way in the world, let me tell you, to play history like this,--it +teaches you more than any ordinary study possibly can, and you find that +through it you get events and epochs perfectly clear in your mind, and +everything by and by spreads out before you like reality." + +"I wish Miss Marr would let us have history lessons this way," said +Myra. + +"Perhaps she will, some time, if Kate tells her what she has told us," +said Anna, hopefully; "and you _will_ tell her some time, won't you, +Kate?" + +"Yes, I'll tell her, but I don't think it is the thing to do in school +days; you ought to get it up in the summer, during vacations. It would +interfere with other studies to go into all the preparation and work of +such performances in school." + +"Did you ever like any other of your plays as well as the Siege?" asked +Hope. + +"No, never; but what made you ask that, Hope?" + +"Because it was so stirring and out-door-sy, and the boatman was so +jolly and brave, I thought it wasn't possible that there could have been +another story quite so playable as that." + +"I said the Van der Bergs were proud of only one thing,--this +performance of the boatman; but there was another of our ancestors of a +later day who is very interesting, I think, and just as plucky and brave +in another way." + +"Oh!" ejaculated Anna Fleming, with such an air of anticipation that +they all laughed, for they all knew Anna's weakness for ancestors; and +this "Oh," said very plainly, "Now we are to hear of something more +worth while than an old boatman, something probably about those +aristocratic Knickerbocker ancestors of Kate's." + +Kate herself, thoroughly appreciating Anna's state of mind, went on +demurely: "This ancestor was my mother's great-great-grandfather. He was +the son of a small farmer in England, and he came to New York a poor +boy, with only a few shillings in his pocket; and with these few +shillings he started, and, working at all sorts of things,--as a +stevedore, and anything else he could find to do,--he at last worked his +way up to a little clerkship in a little mercantile house, and from +there he climbed step by step into a bigger clerkship, in the same +little house, and then step by step into a clerkship in a big house, +until after a while, after all sorts of working and waiting and +hardships, he came to be at the head of the big house, and one of the +first merchants of the day in New York. We have in our family now one of +those English shillings that he brought over and saved for luck when he +was working on the wharves, and we keep it for luck; and there +is a packet of old letters and a diary he kept, telling the +whole story, that we have too. Oh, yes, we are very proud of our +great-great-great-grandfather, I can tell you," smiling up at the girls. + +"But where did those lovely old shoe-buckles and gold buttons, and that +old silver with the V. der B. engraved on it, that I saw when I visited +you,--where did those come from, if that boatman was the only Dutch +ancestor you had that you were proud of?" anxiously and disappointedly +asked Anna here. + +"Oh, they came from some of the later V. der B.'s; some descendants that +had nothing specially interesting about them,--were not heroes of any +kind, but just rich old burghers." + +"But weren't they what are called the Knickerbocker families?" + +"Yes; but you know how that name came to be given to them, don't you?" + +"No, not exactly," answered Anna, shamefacedly. + + +"And _I_ haven't the least idea. I know I ought to know, but I don't," +burst out Myra, blithely and boldly; "so do tell us." + +"Well, it came about in this way. Washington Irving wrote a burlesque +history of New York,--that is, it was a burlesque on a pompous handbook +of the city, that had just been published. He called it 'A History of +New York from the beginning of the world to the end of the Dutch +Dynasty, by Diedrich Knickerbocker.' + +"He made up the name of Knickerbocker probably, as people now make up a +name for a _nom de plume_. But at the time by a facetious advertisement, +such as Hawthorne might have written at a later day,--an advertisement +'inquiring for a small, elderly gentleman, dressed in an old black coat +and cocked hat, by the name of Knickerbocker, who was said to have +disappeared from the Columbus Hotel in Mulberry Street, and left behind +a very curious kind of a written book,'--he fooled some of those Dutch +ancestors of mine into thinking that this was a veritable Dutch name, +and that this old gentleman was a veritable owner of the name, and +writer of the History of New York, which they thought was meant for a +veritable history. Then some of them finding it was a burlesque were +seriously offended, and made a great fuss about it; but in spite of all +this, the name stuck, and as it was really meant as a sort of +interpretation of the aristocratic Dutch character, it was after a while +accepted as a title for the descendants of the old Dutch burghers, and +so grew into a term for the gentry or aristocratic class. That is all +there is to it." + +"Well, then, that proves that you _are_ from the Dutch gentry,--an old +Knickerbocker family!" exclaimed Anna, in a tone of satisfaction, that +brought forth a perfect shout of laughter from Kate, and after the +laughter the immediate answer, "Oh, yes; and the New York head of this +old Knickerbocker family of mine kept a shop down near the wharves, +where he bought and sold flour and molasses, just as that dear old Joris +Van Heemskirk did in Mrs. Barr's dear, delightful story, 'The Bow of +Orange Ribbon.' In trade, you see,--shopkeepers!" and Kate nodded her +head and laughed again, as she looked at Anna, who had a silly way +sometimes of talking as she had heard some English people talk of +"people in trade." + +But Anna, who did not like to be laughed at, any more than the rest of +us, retorted here: "It will do for you to go on in this way about +family, and ancestors, and all that. _You_ can afford to tell the truth +because you _do_ belong and _have_ belonged, or your family has +belonged, for years to the upper class; but if you had only just come up +from--from--" + +"Selling flour and molasses," struck in Kate, mischievously. + +"No, I did not mean that, for I suppose things were different then; but +if you belonged to new rich people,--people who had just made money, +people who had been common working-people, mechanics, or something of +that sort,--you wouldn't talk like this, you'd keep still." + + +"Yes, if I belonged to common working-people, people whose minds were +common and vulgar; but how if I belonged to working-people like George +Stephenson, the father of English railways, and the locomotive? Oh, +Anna, _don't_ you remember we had to study up about Watt and Boulton and +the Stephensons last term in connection with our applied-science +lessons?" + +"Last term!" cried Anna; "you can't expect _me_ to remember everything I +studied up on, last term. Things like that don't stick in my mind as +they do in yours." + +"Well, you ought to remember about George Stephenson, who was the son of +a fireman of a colliery engine in England, and how he worked up, and +educated himself, and finally constructed the steam locomotive that made +him famous, and led to his being employed in the construction of the +Liverpool and Manchester Railway. And there was his son Robert, who +followed in his father's footsteps and became an authority on everything +connected with railways and engines; and then there was James Watt, who +preceded them as the inventor of the condensing steam-engine for +manufacturing purposes, which led the way to Stephenson's locomotive. +Watt was only a poor boy, the son of a small trader in Scotland, and was +an apprentice to a philosophical-instrument maker, where he worked so +hard and lived so poorly that he nearly lost his health. Do you think +that men like these wouldn't dare to talk about their humble beginnings? +Do you think _they_ would keep still, or do you think their families +would keep still, because they were ashamed of the humble beginnings? +No, no, not unless they were miserable cowards and didn't know what to +be proud of, and that indeed would make them dirt common and vulgar, and +not deserving their good fortune." + +"Well, I wasn't thinking of geniuses, of course. I don't suppose that +anybody who was connected with such people as you speak of would be +ashamed exactly of the 'humble beginnings,' as you call them,--the +people _I_ mean are the ordinary people, who have just come up from +nowhere, with a lot of money made out of--" + +"Flour and molasses; yes, I see--you think the molasses sticks to them, +and they pretend to ignore it. Well, all I've got to say is that I do so +hate cowardice, I think, if I were in their places, with the molasses so +new and sticky, that I should blurt out, 'Molasses! molasses!' if +anybody so much as _looked_ at me attentively. But goodness, girls, do +you know what time it is?" + +"Half-past eight," guessed Myra and Anna, confidently. + +"Half-past eight! you geese, it's half-past nine." + +There was a chorus of "Oh's" and "Ah's," and then a general good-night +and scampering off to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +It was very late before Hope fell asleep that night. Generally sleep +came to her quickly while Myra dawdled and pottered about, until the +lights were put out. But on this night Myra, from her little bed in the +opposite corner of the room, heard her usually quiet room-mate tossing +and turning in a very restless fashion. + +"What in the world is the matter with you, Hope?" she asked her at +length. "Are you ill?" + +"Ill? Oh, no; I'm only a little restless," Hope answered. "I am sorry I +disturbed you,--I'll try to be quieter." + +"Oh, you didn't disturb me, Hope,--such a little thing as that wouldn't +disturb me,--but I thought you must have something the matter with you, +you are such a mouse generally. You're sure there isn't anything the +matter?" + +"Yes, quite sure." + +"Not even Dorothea?" + +"Not even Dorothea? What do you mean?" + +"Well, I didn't know but you had Dorothea on your mind,--that you might +be worrying over her persecution of you,--her determination to make you +play that duet with her," said Myra, laughing. + +"Oh, no, I don't worry over Dorothea," answered Hope, laughing a little +herself at this suggestion. + +"How Kate _does_ dislike her!" exclaimed Myra. + +"Dislike Dorothea?" cried Hope, startled at this strong assertion. + +"Well, I should say so; and you don't like her any better, either, +Hope-y dear. _I_ think that you and Kate know something about her that +the rest of us don't, for I've noticed from the very first that you were +very distant to her." + +"'Know something about her!' Now, Myra, just because I was not pleased +with Dorothea's ways and have held off from playing duets with her, you +take that extraordinary notion into your head. 'Know something about +her!' Of course, you mean by that, something to her disadvantage. I know +just what you all know, that she is the daughter of the Hon. Mr. Dering +of Boston. What I know to her disadvantage is her lack of good manners, +and that you all know. There, if that isn't enough--" + +"Oh, it is, it is, Hope-y, do forgive me, that's a dear; I was only half +in fun, anyway. I feel just as you and Kate do about Dorothea; her +manners are horrid, horrid,--so forward and consequential." + +"But I do hope _I_ haven't influenced you to feel in this way, Myra; +that is, that my manner--" + +"No, no, I didn't like her ways at the very first,--they are so +domineering. I dare say the outside is the worst of her, though, and +that very likely she may be good-hearted. But there's Kate Van der Berg, +_she's_ good-hearted, and has good manners too; and isn't she jolly, +Hope? Wasn't it fun to hear her go on with Anna about the flour and +molasses? And, Hope, I do believe that she would do just as she said, if +_she_ were a new rich person,--that is, if she were the kind of girl she +is now. She would just come right out with the flour and molasses,--talk +about everything perfectly frankly, because she hates anything that +looks like being ashamed, anything that looks like cowardice. Yes, I do +believe she would. But _I_ couldn't, could you?" + +There was no answer to this question; and after a moment or two, Myra +looked across at the motionless figure clearly outlined in the +moonlight, and thought, "She's gone to sleep." + +But Hope had not gone to sleep. She was never more widely awake in her +life than she was when Myra asked her question,--never more widely awake +and never more unhappy; for as she lay there motionless and silent, she +knew that she was acting a lie because she did not want to answer that +question,--a question that was almost the same that she had been asking +herself ever since she had listened to Kate's emphatic arraignment of +cowards; for from that moment she had said to herself: "I wonder if I am +not just this kind of a coward, because I have kept silent before these +girls,--have not told them that I belonged to the new rich people,--that +my father was a poor mechanic, and that I--had sold mayflowers at the +Brookside station? Kate would have told them long ago, I suppose, if she +had been in my place. She'd say I was 'dirt common' and vulgar not to +speak of father,--that I ought to be so proud of him that I couldn't +help speaking. And I _am_ proud of him,--I am, I am, nobody could be +prouder,--it isn't that I'm in any way ashamed of anything,--of +_anything_,--the engineer cab, the workman's clothes, or the +flower-selling; but--but, oh, I couldn't talk about it to those +girls,--they have never known what it was to live differently from the +way they live now, and they would stare at me, as if I were a curiosity, +something unlike themselves, and they'd have so many questions to ask, +because it would all be so odd to them; and then there is Dorothea now, +to make it worse,--Dorothea would take all the dignity out of anything; +and how she would go on about the mayflowers and our quarrel, and +exclaim and wonder and laugh! No, no, I can't bring all this on +myself,--it may be very cowardly of me, but I can't, I can't." + +Agitated by thoughts like these, it was not strange that sleep failed to +come quickly to Hope that night, and that, in consequence, she should +look heavy-eyed and pale the next morning, and that, in further +consequence, Miss Marr, who was very observant, should say: "What is the +matter, Hope? You don't look well." And when Hope had no answer to give +but that she was restless and didn't sleep very well, Miss Marr glanced +at her rather anxiously, and said admonishingly, "I'm afraid you've been +studying too hard, Hope. You haven't? Then you must be homesick." But +when Hope assured her that she couldn't be homesick in _her_ house, Miss +Marr, laughingly declaring that she was a little flatterer, came to the +conclusion that there was nothing amiss that the week's vacation so near +at hand and the New Year festivities would not rectify. + +Where Hope was to spend her week's vacation had been a matter of some +consideration. She would have gone to her grandmother Benham up in the +New Hampshire hills if the distance at that season of the year had not +been an objection. Miss Marr, too, would gladly have kept her little +favorite with her; and there was Kate Van der Berg pining for her +company, backed by Mrs. Van der Berg's cordial note of invitation; and +the Sibleys also--the friends whom the Benhams had met abroad, and who +had spoken to Miss Marr so admiringly of John Benham's "dearest little +daughter"--had entreated her to come to them. Another invitation was +from the Benhams' old neighbors and friends,--the Kolbs. All these +invitations had been received by Hope early in November, and she had +immediately sent them to her parents in Paris, with a little note of her +own, that simply said, without a word of her own personal preference: "I +want you to tell me which place you would rather I would choose. _I_ +like them all." + +Mr. and Mrs. Benham laughed as they read these words. They laughed +because this was so like Hope. When she was quite a little girl, her +mother had thought it would be a good plan to teach her to be careful in +her selections, by making her choose entirely for herself what she would +like, and abiding by that choice for the time being. Hope was delighted +with this plan at first. She fancied that with such liberty she was +going to have a very happy time; but after she had made several +mistakes, had chosen what had brought her, if not serious disappointment +and discomfort, a knowledge that she had much better have chosen +differently, she hit upon a little change of plan; and this was to +submit to her mother and father whatever was set before her for her +choosing, with the provision that they should give her the benefit of +their opinions, while still leaving her her own liberty of choice. They +were very much amused at this proposed change, but readily consented to +its being tried; and the trial, on the whole, had turned out very +satisfactorily, the child only upon rare occasions, when greatly tempted +by some special predilection, going against the parental opinion. The +odd plan thus childishly begun had settled into a fixed habit, though as +Hope had grown older it had become little more than an interchange of +opinions. On the present occasion, however, the girl had very evidently +gone back to her first idea, for it was quite plain to both father and +mother that while she had some special predilection for _one_ of these +invitations, she did not want to betray it, as she wanted a perfectly +unbiassed opinion from them,--or, in other words, wanted to know _their_ +preference before she acknowledged her own; and this Mr. Benham decided +at once not to give. "I will write to her that she must make her choice +quite independent of us," he said to his wife. "There can be no harm in +her accepting any one of these invitations, but what we want to know now +is the bias of her own mind." + +John Benham, as well as his wife, had tried, from the very first of +their change of fortunes, to keep Hope untouched by the temptations of +sudden wealth; and one of their fears in regard to the New York school +had been that Hope would meet there girls whose influence might be of a +worldly and fashionable nature. But Miss Marr's reputation for right +thinking and right doing had carried the day over all these fears, and +they had seen no reason from term to term to regret this decision. It +was with no little curiosity, then, coupled with some anxiety, that she +and her husband awaited Hope's choice of invitations. She had now been a +pupil of Miss Marr's a year, a year in close association with the young +people in the school. The parents had seen her twice in this time, and +she had seemed to them the same child Hope. Her letters, too, gave them +very satisfactory accounts of her school life and companions. In all +these accounts the name of Kate Van der Berg held a prominent place, and +they could see that this friend was of more importance to Hope than any +of the other girls. When, therefore, they pondered over Mrs. Van der +Berg's invitation, with its hints of luxurious entertainment, they +thought it quite natural that any girl should choose to accept it. Then, +too, there was Mrs. Sibley, with _her_ offer of hospitality in a fine +house where the visitor would be petted and made much of. If not to the +Van der Bergs', would not any ordinary girl choose to go to this +delightsome place? The Kolbs could offer nothing like this hospitality. +Their house at Riverview was small, their means not large, and their +acquaintance, outside the musicians with whom the old violinist was +brought in contact, very limited, and in this limited acquaintance there +were no young people, except Mr. Kolb's nephew and his little German +wife. But the old violinist's heart was full of warm regard for the +little mädchen whom he had taught for love five years ago, and what he +did offer was out of the fulness of this regard, as the following quaint +letter will show:-- + + MY DEAR LITTLE MÄDCHEN,--The good frau and myself have wondered + for long time if the little mädchen remembers the Christmas Day + when she stood beside Papa Kolb, to help him strip the + Christmas tree; and if she remembers, the good frau and myself + wonders if she would not like to stand by Papa Kolb again and + strip a Christmas Tree that shall grow up purposely for her if + she will come to Papa Kolb's house for the holiday week that is + near at hand. The good frau will take best care of the little + mädchen. She shall have the blue and white chamber with the + little porcelain stove, and the good frau will herself make for + her the little cakes she likes so well, and Papa Kolb will make + his violin sing the music that they both love. + +"How _can_ the child resist this letter?" exclaimed Mr. Benham, as he +laid it down after reading it twice over. + +"Yes; but you might have asked the same question after reading Mrs. +Sibley's and Mrs. Van der Berg's, with their cordial offers of Christmas +dances and performances," said Mrs. Benham. + +"Yes, I might, but I didn't," replied Mr. Benham, with a smile. + +"No, you didn't; but you must remember though, John, that to Hope, +Christmas dances and matinée performances in a big city must naturally +be more attractive than they are to you." + +"Oh, yes, yes, of course; and it's of course, I suppose, that any young +girl would naturally prefer the fine gay things that fine gay people can +offer to the more humdrum things that the Kolbs can give." + +It will readily be seen, from this little conversation, where John +Benham's preference lay in this question of invitations; and as a matter +of fact, Mrs. Benham's interests were in the same quarter. They both +leaned very strongly to Papa Kolb's affectionate home offer, but they +were both agreed in their resolve that they would say nothing to Hope of +their feeling. + +In this way they looked to find out the natural bias of the girl's mind, +and ascertain exactly the direction that her tastes and inclinations +were now taking. But as Mrs. Benham read over again the notes from the +Van der Bergs and Sibleys, she felt that it was absurd for her to expect +that a young creature like Hope would turn from such attractions to the +Kolbs, and she told her husband so. Like the man of sense that he was, +Mr. Benham admitted the truth of his wife's conclusions. It was but a +step from this admission to a final agreement that Hope of course, thus +left to herself, would choose the New York gayeties, like any other +girl; and when her next letter arrived, Mrs. Benham ran her little pearl +paper-cutter through the envelope, with the remark, "Now we shall hear +all about the fine preparations for the fine doings at the Van der +Bergs', for I am quite sure it will be to Kate Van der Berg and not to +Mrs. Sibley that the child has chosen to go; and I do hope that Miss +Marr has seen to her preparations, and helped her to choose some new +things, if she needs them. And she must need a new gown or two, and +gloves, and perhaps a fresh wrap, going about as she will with the Van +der Bergs to the holiday entertainments. I told Miss Marr when we came +away, to order anything that Hope needed, if at any time--" + +There was a sudden cessation of Mrs. Benham's voice; then after a +moment: "John, John, what do you think!--" + +Mr. Benham looked up from his desk, where he was busy studying the plan +of a new French locomotive. + +"What do you think, John? She isn't going to the Van der Bergs'!" + +"She prefers the Sibleys, then; well, they'll be very good to her." + +"No, she doesn't prefer the Sibleys,--it's the Kolbs, after all. Do +listen to her letter!" and Mrs. Benham read aloud:-- + + DEAR PAPA AND MAMMA,--I'm going to the Kolbs'. I wanted to go + the minute I got Papa Kolb's dear kind invitation; but when on + the very same morning I received the two others, I thought I + would send them all off to you, hoping that you would say that + you would like to have me go to the Kolbs'. But when your + answer came, and I knew that I must make my own choice quite + independently of you, I wrote at once to Mrs. Van der Berg and + to Mrs. Sibley, that I had had an invitation from some old + friends who had known me from a little child and been very kind + to me, and I loved them very much, and felt that I must go to + them. + + I told Kate what I had written, and I told her something about + the Kolbs, and that Papa Kolb had been my first teacher; and + she laughed, and said that nobody need expect to get me away + from a fiddler. And she is quite right when the fiddler is Mr. + Kolb. I love Kate Van der Berg dearly, and so would you if you + knew her; and if you had heard her talk the other day about the + right and the wrong kind of pride of ancestry, you would admire + her very much. And I love Mrs. Sibley too, and if there had + been no invitation from the Kolbs, I should have been very glad + to have gone to her or to Kate. But the Kolbs are like--well, + like--like my very own. They have known me so long and I have + known them so long that I feel at home with them all the time; + and then the fiddles and the music and the Christmas + Tree--everything there is what I love best. + +Mr. Benham forgot for the moment the locomotive plan that lay before +him, as he listened to this portion of his daughter's letter; and when +his wife put the letter down and said, "We needn't be afraid of Hope's +being spoiled by these fine people, John," his eyes lighted up, as he +replied smilingly,-- + +"Hope is set to a home tune, Martha, that she is never going to forget." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +Dolly Dering was beating time with her fan to the closing passages of +the Mendelssohn concerto, when she suddenly caught sight of Hope Benham, +three seats before her. Dolly's quick start, and a smothered "Oh!" +excited the curiosity of her companion,--a young cousin of hers,--Jimmy +Dering, who, following the direction and expression of her eyes, +whispered,-- + +"What's the matter with her, Dolly?" + +Dolly made no reply, but continued to stare, and, Jimmy repeating his +question, Dolly whispered back: "'Matter with her'? That girl I was +looking at? Nothing; what do you mean?" + +"You looked so astonished I thought she was a ghost, or that something +was the matter with her." + +Dolly giggled under her breath, and whispered: "No, it's only that I was +so surprised to see her here in Music Hall. She is one of the girls from +my school,--Hope Benham. I thought she was going to stay in New York +this week with the Van der Bergs,--awful swells! I wonder who she's +visiting here." + +"Some other 'awful swells,'--Boston swells, I suppose. She looks that +way herself. Why didn't you invite her to stay with you, Dolly?" + +"I should as soon have thought of inviting Bunker Hill Monument,--though +I like her,--sort of--she's stiffish, but fascinating, and plays the +violin like--_Oh_!" with an emphatic emphasis, to convey the +inexpressible. + +"Like 'Oh'! You must waylay her and introduce me to her, Dolly. I want +to know any girl who plays the violin like 'Oh.' I never heard it played +like that. Say, Dolly--" + +"H--ush!" breathed Jimmy's mother, Mrs. Mark Dering, shaking her head at +the two whisperers, as the violin solo began. Jimmy, who was +enthusiastically fond of the music of the violin, was now quite willing +to be hushed, and, leaning back, gave himself up to silent enjoyment. +Toward the close of the exquisite strains he happened to glance at the +girl three seats in front of him. Her lips were slightly parted, her +eyes were shining, her whole attitude expressive of the deepest delight. + +"How she _does_ like it, and how she knows music!" thought Jimmy. "I'd +like to hear _her_ play the violin. I wonder if I can't manage it. I +mean to make Dolly introduce me to her." + +Hope was pulling up her little sealskin cloak at the end of the concert, +when she heard a voice say: "How de do, Hope? I never was so surprised +in my life as when I saw you here. I thought Kate Van der Berg had +invited you to stay with her through the vacation." + +[Illustration: "HOW DE DO, HOPE?"] + +The "deep delight" on Hope's face vanished as if by magic as she heard +this; and as she turned to the speaker, Jimmy said to himself: + +"My! how she _does_ dislike Dolly!" + +When, in the next breath, Dolly repeated, "I thought Kate Van der Berg +invited you to stay with her," Jimmy, who was a little gentleman with +much tact and taste, groaned in spirit: "How could she; oh, how _could_ +Dolly put the thing in that way? As if--as if a girl had only to be +invited by a Kate Van der Berg to accept! As if she couldn't refuse a +Kate Van der Berg, or anybody--such a girl as this!" + +But the next instant Jimmy's groan had become a chuckle as he heard this +girl say: "Yes, Kate invited me to spend my vacation with her, but I had +older friends than the Van der Bergs." + +Not much in the words, but, oh, the way they were spoken,--the tone, the +little straight stare at Dolly! Jimmy, little gentleman though he was, +had a wild desire to throw up his cap and "hurrah" as he looked and +listened. "It was all such a set-down for Dolly," as he told his mother +later. But Dolly didn't seem to mind it much. She colored a bit, and +then she laughed, and then before Hope could make a move away from her, +she was introducing her to "my cousin, Jimmy Dering;" and Jimmy, tactful +little fellow, began to speak in his soft, sweet voice that was like the +G string of a violin, of the music they had been listening to; and he +spoke so intelligently and appreciatively that Hope could not but be +interested; and when, by the greatest good luck in the world for him, he +asked her if she had noticed the beautiful expression on the face of the +first violinist when he played, and then proceeded to tell her that this +violinist was a German, and that his name was Kolb, and that he was a +real genius, Hope turned such a radiant face towards the boy that he was +quite taken aback at the first start; then he thought to himself, "She +appreciates old Kolb as well as we do;" and delighted at this, was going +on to say more, when Dolly's voice again broke in with,-- + +"Hope, I want to introduce you to my aunt, Mrs. Dering. This is Miss +Hope Benham, auntie, one of the girls at my school." + +"_My school!_" Jimmy groaned again when he heard this; and as he +observed Hope's sudden stiffening and coolness, he inwardly exclaimed: +"I shall never hear this girl play if Dolly goes on like this, with +'_my_ school,' and that my-everything-way of hers!" + +But when Mrs. Dering came up with that pretty manner, and said that she +was always glad to meet one of Miss Marr's girls, Jimmy breathed easier; +and when she asked Hope if she was fond of music, and Dolly burst out, +"Fond? You wouldn't ask that question if you could hear Hope play the +violin," Jimmy took courage and said,-- + +"Mother, if Miss Benham would only come to our Monday night musicale!" + +"Yes, to be sure," cried Mrs. Dering, delighted at the suggestion. If +Hope was a musical genius, she might perhaps be interested to help them, +for the musicale was for a charity. That she was one of Miss Marr's +girls spoke for her desirability in all other ways. It had got to be a +sort of voucher to be one of Miss Marr's girls. + +"And if you have your violin with you--she's got a wonderful violin, +auntie--and will bring it, and play something for us--it's for a +charity, you know--" + +"Yes, if you would, it would be so kind of you; the charity is such a +worthy one,--a little kindergarten bed at the children's hospital," took +up Mrs. Dering, persuasively. + +"I haven't my violin with me; and--" + +"Oh, well, that needn't make any difference. I have two, and you can +have one of mine," interrupted Dolly, with perfect confidence. + +"And I have an engagement on Wednesday to another musicale, or rather a +concert," said Hope, finishing the answer that Dolly had so confidently +interrupted. + +"But can't you come and see _me_ some day and--if you'll tell me where +you're staying I'll call on you--I'll call and fetch you any day you'll +say, and Jimmy'll come, and we'll all play together--Jimmy plays very +well." + +Dolly, with this, pulled out a little tablet, and fixing her eyes on it +in a business-like way, said, "Now, then, give me your address; and--" + +"It would be of no use, I cannot come to you, for I return to New York +Thursday morning." + +"But it's only Saturday now--there's four days to Thursday--if you'd say +Monday or Tuesday." + +"I am engaged Monday and Tuesday,--you must excuse me--Ah!" with an air +of relief, "there's Mr. Kolb, I must bid you good-by;" and with a very +polite bow, including the three,--Mrs. Dering, her son, and Dolly,--and +with a very small smile, Hope made her escape, and hastened towards Mr. +Kolb. + +"She _knows_ old Kolb, after all," exclaimed Jimmy, in astonishment. + +"She knows all the musical people that were ever born, _I_ believe," +snapped out Dolly; "stiff as she is, she's just crazy over musical +folks. But did you ever see anybody so stiff and offish as she was?" + +"I never saw anybody so persistent as _you_ were, Dolly; you fairly +pushed her into stiffness and offishness. You asked her to help in the +musicale as if it would be simply a privilege for _her_, and then, when +anybody could see with half an eye she didn't want to come and didn't +mean to come, you went at her in the same way about coming to _you_, +whipping out that tablet with a 'Now, then, give an account of yourself' +air that was--that was--" But Jimmy could find no words to express +adequately his feelings on this point, and finished up suddenly in his +wrath and disappointment, "Dolly, you are the biggest bully I ever met. +If you were a boy amongst boys, you'd get a licking!" + +"Children, children, stop quarrelling, right here in public!" admonished +Mrs. Dering, in a low, shocked tone. + +"'Tisn't me that's quarrelling," said Dolly, regardless of grammar and +in a tearful sniffle. "Jimmy's always setting me up to do things for +him, and then he's al-al-always finding fault with the way I do 'em," +Dolly went on, in a still more tearful sniffle. + +"Setting you up to do things for him? What did he set you up to do now?" +asked her aunt. + +"To introduce him to Hope. He wanted to know her, he wanted to hear her +play; and I"--sniff, sniff, sniff--"I--" + +"Well, there, never mind; tell me when we get into the carriage," broke +in Mrs. Dering, mindful of the proprieties, as she saw several persons +observing Dolly. + +"Yes, don't cry on the street,--you might get taken up for a nuisance, +Dol; a policeman's got his eye on you now," growled Jimmy, with a savage +little grin. Dolly had a queer, childish way of accepting everything +seriously sometimes; and the startled seriousness of her face at this +was too much for Jimmy's gravity, and he burst into a fit of laughter +that cleared the atmosphere not a little, and made Dolly herself forget +to sniffle. She forgot also to air her grievance against Jimmy, when, as +they were seated in the carriage, her aunt said animatedly,-- + +"Benham--I wonder if this girl is the daughter of a Mr. and Mrs. Benham +I met when I was in Paris." + +"Her father and mother are in Paris now; that is the reason why Hope +doesn't spend her vacations with them," said Dolly. + +"This Mr. Benham was a distinguished scientific man of some sort, I +believe. He was distinguished for _something_, I know, and he was with +scientific men. I met him at Professor Hervey's, and he came into the +room, I remember, with two or three English gentlemen of note. I +recollect it, because I know I felt quite proud at the time that he was +an American,--he looked so manly and earnest,--and some one told me he +had just had a fortune come to him." + +"Well, Hope's father must have a lot of money, for she's got a violin +that cost enough. It's a regular Cremona." + +"No!" exclaimed Jimmy, incredulously. + +"Yes; she told me it was made by an Italian who was a pupil of +Stradivari and lived in Cremona." + +"You don't say so!" cried Jimmy, excitedly. "How I should like to see +it, for I tell you to see a real old Cremona would be worth while. Lots +of people think they've got a Cremona, when it's only an imitation. Karl +Myerwitz, who makes violins, and knows all about them, told me that if +everybody who claims to have a Cremona violin, _really_ had one, the +number of them would count up to twice as many as had ever been made." + +"Well, all I know is that Hope told me that her violin was made in +seventeen hundred and something by a pupil of Stradivari." + +"Where did her father get it, do you know,--did she tell you that?" + +"An old teacher of hers got it,--a German who has a brother who deals in +rare violins in Paris." + +"How soon did she begin to take lessons?" + +"Oh, when she was quite a little girl." + +"What kind of music--whose compositions, I mean, does she play?" + +Dolly rattled off what she knew of Hope's repertoire. + + +"Well, she _must_ have been at it from a small youngster," ejaculated +Jimmy, emphatically, at the list Dolly gave. "And she must have a +great--a _great_ taste for music. The idea of your thinking I would play +with any one who was up to what she is!" + +"But you play very well,--you play better than I do." + +"What's that to do with it? You don't mean to say that you think--that +you propose--" But Jimmy stopped short, remembering the recent outbreak +of sniffles and tears. But he had gone far enough for Dolly to +understand, and she took up his words, not tearfully, but indignantly, +as she replied,-- + +"I do mean to say that I propose to play a duet with Hope at school this +very winter." + +"Is it a school arrangement,--Miss Marr's plan? I didn't know that you +studied the violin at Miss Marr's." + +"Well, we do, if we wish to. There is a teacher, a very fine teacher, +who comes in from the outside for that, as there is for the harp, or any +other special accomplishment." + +"Oh! and Miss Benham wants you to practise with her,--I suppose you can +help each other,--I see," remarked Jimmy, demurely. + +"I didn't say she wanted me to _practise_ with her. I said that I +proposed to play a duet with Hope sometime this winter." + +Jimmy made no further remark concerning the matter, but he said to +himself: "Yes, that's it; Dolly has had the nerve to _propose_ to play a +duet with that girl, and my opinion is that she'll get snubbed. Miss +Hope Benham isn't going to stand Dolly's impudence,--not a bit of it." + +"What concert is it, Jimmy, that comes off on Wednesday?" suddenly asked +Mrs. Dering here. + +"I don't know of any except that affair at the Somersets'." + +"Oh, that for Mr. Kolb! I wish I had been told of that earlier. I only +heard about it at the last minute, and then I couldn't get any ticket +for love or money." + +"Mamma tried to get tickets too," said Dolly, "but they seemed to be all +snapped up at the very start by that Somerset clique. I think it was +real mean. There are other people in Boston, besides the Somersets, that +know about music, and can appreciate--" + +"But there was a limit of tickets,--there had to be; for Mrs. Somerset's +parlors, big as they are, can only hold just so many," put in Jimmy, in +explanation. + +"Your young friend may be going to this concert," suggested Mrs. Dering, +reflectively. + +Dolly bounced up like an India-rubber ball at this suggestion, and cried +out,-- + +"Why, of course that's where she's going, I might have known it." And +then Dolly leaned back discontentedly, and reflected upon the good +fortune that seemed to attend Hope Benham at every step. There was Kate +Van der Berg lavishing all sorts of attentions upon her; and here was +this testimonial concert that the Somersets had got up for Mr. Kolb, and +that everybody was pining to go to, open to her! "Wonder who she is +visiting, anyway," Dolly pondered, in the course of these +reflections,--"perhaps the Somersets themselves,--'twould be just like +her luck." + +And while Dolly pondered these things, Mrs. Dering mused with regret of +what her musicale had lost, and Jimmy chuckled anew as he recalled "that +girl's" high and mighty manner with Dolly. But his chuckle ended in a +sigh, as he thought: "It's of no use for me to expect to hear that girl +play; Dolly has spoilt all that." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +It was "New Year's night" at Miss Marr's, and every girl was as bright +and fresh as if the night before she had not watched the old year out +and the new year in; for the happiness of it all, and the long morning +rest had been like a tonic. + +"_Didn't_ we have a good time last night!" exclaimed Myra Donaldson, in +a sort of general questioning tone, as she stood with a group of the +girls by the big hall-fire, just before the hour appointed for the +guests to assemble. + +"A tip-top time, for that kind of a time," answered Dolly, speaking +first, in her usual forward fashion. + +"What do you mean by 'that kind of a time'?" asked Myra. + +"I mean a girl-party. It was the best girl-party I ever went to; but I +like parties best with boys in 'em, just as I like cake best with +currants or raisins in it." + +The girls all laughed; and Kate Van der Berg called out: "The boys then +stand for the currants and raisins with you, Dorothea?" + +"Of course they do. I hate to dance with a girl; that's one reason I +don't like a girl-party. I never can remember which I am, the boy or the +girl, when the figures are called, and I'm just as likely to prance out +in the square dances as a girl when I'm taking the boy's place, and to +set off in a waltz with the wrong foot, and muddle things generally. +Then we girls see girls all the time, or we see so much more of girls +than we do of boys that we like a change, or _I_ do. I dare say the rest +of you," making up a defiant little face, "don't feel like this at all. +I dare say you had just as lief dance with girls, and wouldn't care if +you never had boys at _your_ parties." + +"Oh, yes, we would; _we_ like currants and raisins in our cake, too, +don't we, Hope?" + +"Yes, indeed," laughed Hope. + +"You'd have thought so last year if you could have seen Hope with my +youngest brother, my little eleven-year-old," continued Kate, merrily. +"He thought Hope was just perfect, and the way he followed her up! He +wasn't in the least bashful, like some of the older boys, and he didn't +have the slightest hesitation in trotting after her. _I_ believe he +asked her to dance every dance with him. I know I had to interfere and +curb his ardor, or Hope wouldn't have danced with anybody else, for she +really encouraged him in his attentions in the most decided manner." + +"He was such a dear little fellow," said Hope,--"he told me I was just +as good company as a boy." + +When the laugh that this called forth had subsided, Dorothea said rather +soberly, "I didn't know that you had such _young_ boys." + +"Look at her, look at her!" cried Kate. "Did you ever see such a +worried, disappointed face? But cheer up, Dorothea, cheer up; we _do_ +have a few older ones. My brother Schuyler will be here this year." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Hope, with a falling inflection to her voice, "and not +Johnny?" + +"And not Johnny," laughed Kate; "one at a time, you know." + +"How old did you say your brother Schuyler is?" asked Dorothea. + +"Seventeen,--quite old, you see, for a boy. He'll do for you to dance +with, won't he?" + +"Johnny dances beautifully; one couldn't have a better partner," said +Hope. + +"Oh, 'tisn't only a dancing partner Dorothea wants," spoke up Bessie +Armitage, a keen-eyed, keen-witted girl, whose quiet observation was +never very much at fault. "Dorothea wants a talking partner as well." + +Dolly gave a little conscious giggle, and simperingly declared, with a +toss of her head: "Oh, I know what you mean. You mean that I want a +flirting partner; people are always accusing me of that, and I--" + +"Flirting! how I hate that word, and how I hate the thing itself!" burst +out Kate Van der Berg. "It's the cheapest word, and the cheapest thing +to do; and for girls like us to put on such airs, and think we are doing +something fine and grown-up. My brother Maurice, my oldest brother, has +told me enough what young men think of half-grown girls who do such +things." + +"Oh, yes, I know; you told me, before I went away, how your brother made +fun of young girls," cried Dorothea, angrily. + +The hot color rose to Kate's very forehead, in her sudden shock of +indignation. Then, as it slowly ebbed away, she said in a low, intense +tone: "I told you that I had heard my brother tell how men either +disliked the pertness of young girls, or else amused themselves by it +for a little while, and then made fun of it,--that was what I said to +you. He did not say that _he_ made fun of them,--he couldn't do such a +thing; and the reason he told me what others did, was to show me how +such things were looked upon." + +"And you told _me_ because you thought _I_ was one of those pert, +forward, bold girls!" snapped out Dorothea. + +"I was not telling _you_ what he said, any more than the rest of the +girls who were present; and what I told was brought out by something +that was said at the time." + +"Something that _I_ said, _I_ know. I was talking about my sister's +gentlemen friends, and I said that I never found it hard to talk to +_them_; and then you--" + +"Hush, girls, there's the bell; the company is coming," broke in Myra +Donaldson, "and we must get back into the 'drorrin'-room,' as Patrick +calls it." + +"Yes, it is high time we were all there," said some one here who was +coming up from the lower end of the hall. It was Miss Marr. + +"I wonder if she has heard any of this talk, and how much of it?" +thought Hope. + +But Miss Marr gave no sign of having heard anything of it. She came +forward brightly, smiled on this one and that with equal sweetness, and +playfully drove them all before her into the long flower-scented room. + +The guests were all received in this room; then by twos and threes and +fours, after a little interchange of greetings and introductions, they +were conducted to the elevator and taken up to the great hall at the top +of the house. It was an immense room that Miss Marr had had built +several years ago, when her school plan had grown from its first modest +limit to a promise of its present more liberal dimensions, and was +intended at the start for a gymnasium and play-room. Later it was fitted +up so that the gymnastic appliances could be easily removed, and a +dance-room or recital-hall made of it upon short notice. On the night of +the New Year's parties it always presented a most enchanting aspect, +with its flower and fern and palm decorations, and its soft yet +brilliant lights. Dolly, to whom it was all new and fresh, cried out +enthusiastically as she entered, "Oh, how perfectly beautiful!" + +"Isn't it?" agreed another new-comer, a visitor, who was following close +upon Dolly's heels; and this visitor was no less a person than our +friend Jimmy Dering, who had come on from Boston at Dolly's particular +request and to his own particular satisfaction; for now, he argued, "I +_may_ stand a chance of hearing 'that girl' play on that Cremona +violin." + +It was Jimmy's ring at the door-bell that had interrupted that gusty +little conversation in the hall. He was the first guest; and as he came +into the drawing-room quite alone, and heralded portentously by the +solemn butler's loudly spoken "Mr. James Dering," he might have been +expected to flinch a little, especially under the battery of all those +girls' glances; but Jimmy was not a self-conscious youth, and he had a +happy knack of always adjusting himself to circumstances, and making the +best of a trying situation. So now he came forward in his own modest, +pleasant way, without a bit of awkwardness; and though he blushed a +little, it was with such a confiding sort of manner,--a manner that +seemed to say, "Now do be friendly to me,"--that every girl there, +including Miss Marr herself, was his friend at once. + +"He is charming," thought Miss Marr, "so modest and well-mannered, and +with such a bright merry boyishness about him." + +Even Dolly couldn't spoil the impression he made, as she put up her head +and looked about her with a self-congratulatory air, that said +plainly,-- + +"Now, this is _my_ guest and _my_ cousin!" + +No, even Dolly couldn't spoil Jimmy Dering's popularity. People liked +him in spite of Dolly, and oftentimes they softened towards Dolly +herself, and forgave her her blundering, domineering tactlessness, +because she was Jimmy's cousin, as these girls did on this occasion, +before the evening was over. + +Kate Van der Berg, who had been very wroth at the start, very much +disgusted with Miss Dolly, who had felt as if she never wanted to have +anything more to do with her, before the evening was over began to say +to herself,-- + +"Dorothea must have some good in her, and must belong to nice +people--_really_ nice, well-bred people--to have such a cousin." + +And then when the other boy visitors appeared,--when Schuyler Van der +Berg, Raymond Armitage, Peter Van Loon, and others of the New York +youngsters were in full force,--it was found that they too were taken +captive by Jimmy's pleasant ways. + +"Nice little chap!" said Schuyler to his great friend, Peter Van Loon. + +"Yes," responded Peter; "nicest _Boston_ fellow I've ever seen. Don't +like Boston fellows generally, they're so cocky." + +"And this little chap _might_ be cocky, easy. What do you think,--he's +the quarter-back in the Puritan eleven!" + +"No!" and Peter looked up with greater animation than he had shown since +he came into the house. + +"And he's coxswain in the Charlesgate boat-crew." + +"I say now!" ejaculated Peter, with increased animation. + +"Yes, and he plays the fiddle too,--knows all about music." + +Peter rounded his lips into a whistling shape. Then, "How'd you find all +this out?" + +"His cousin--that big, handsome, black-eyed girl over there, I've just +been dancing with--told me." + +"That girl with the yellow gown and all those daffodils?" + +"Yes." + +"She _is_ handsome, and she knows how to dance." + +"Yes, she knows how to dance, but she rattles too much." + +"But she knows how to dance," repeated Peter, "and I'm going to ask her +to dance with me in the Virginia reel. I always get mixed up in those +old-fashioned things; but this girl will fetch me through, I know." + +And Peter was right. Dorothea fetched him through beautifully, and Peter +didn't in the least mind her rattling. Indeed, he seemed to encourage it +and to be amused by it; for Peter, I am afraid, was that kind of young +man that Kate Van der Berg declared that her brother was _not_,--the +young man who encourages rattling, to make fun of it. But whatever Peter +did was very lazily done, and his fun-making was confined mostly to his +own inward reflections, with now and then the dropping of a humorous +word to some favorite companion. To be sure, this humorous word of +Peter's had its full effect, for Peter was not a great talker, and as he +was known to be a keen-witted fellow, whatever he did say was made much +of. But Peter himself hadn't a bit of malice in him, and if he had his +laugh now and then at some foolish rattler, I, for one, think the +rattler deserved the laugh, and came off very easily at that; for, as +Jimmy Dering said once of his cousin,-- + +"Girls of Dolly's sort have got to learn that people are not going to be +careful of them and their feelings, unless _they_ are careful, to begin +with." + +And I will add that girls of Dolly's sort teach all girls how _not_ to +do it,--how not to romp and rush and rattle, and make themselves objects +of ridicule, in the fond delusion that they are objects of admiration, +as Dolly did on this very night. + +She began her rattle with Schuyler Van der Berg; she kept it up with +Peter Van Loon and fine handsome Victor Graham, and concluded it at the +end of the evening with Raymond Armitage, who was of a very different +fibre from the others,--a harder, coarser fibre altogether. + +But Dolly found Raymond Armitage the most interesting of the four, for +it was Raymond who to her mind was the most polite, the most attractive +in his way of doing and saying things,--his way of listening admiringly +to everything she said, of laughing and applauding all her blunt +speeches and frisky ways. If Jimmy had not been so popular, and +consequently so necessarily engaged in responding to this popularity, he +would have noticed how Dolly was "carrying on," and have tried at least +to check her; but when Jimmy was not talking with a little knot of boys +and girls about boat-crews and foot-ball and the coming season's races, +he was dancing with Hope, and in every pause of the dance he talked +about music; and that entirely absorbed both of them. But there came at +last the grand concluding dance that brought them all more closely +together. It was that concluding dance that Kate Van der Berg had spoken +of as the best fun of all. This dance had been introduced and taught by +Miss Marr herself at the very start of her school, and was by this time +perfectly well known to all her girls, and readily understood by any new +guest of the evening under the guidance of his partner. It was an old +French dance,--a "gavotte," so called. Miss Marr had told them its +history. It was a kind of minuet that Marie Antoinette had introduced as +a pendant to the minuet proper, adding other steps, and renaming it. She +told them that another point in its history was, that the name was said +to be derived from the town of Gap, whose inhabitants were called +"Gavots" and "Gavottes," and that it was not unlikely that it was an old +country dance of that region, and that Marie Antoinette made use of it +in her re-arrangement, and also called it a _minuet de la cour_. + +But wherever it had its origin, it was a charming dance, and Miss Marr +had been taught it thoroughly in her early youth when she visited her +French relations in France as a pretty French costume-party dance; and +she in her turn had introduced various pretty changes, the prettiest and +most novel being at the very end, where, swinging all around together, +they pair off at last in regular appointed order, and pass through an +archway of flowers, each pair receiving in this passing a beautiful +little basket, its woven cover of flowers concealing two New Year's +gifts,--one a pretty trinket, a ring or brooch or bracelet, sent by some +member of the pupil's family for the pupil herself; the other a comic +accompaniment in the way of a gay mirth-provoking toy, to be bestowed +upon the partner,--the guest of the pupil on this occasion,--these +latter being furnished by Miss Marr, and most choicely selected, some of +them coming from Paris and Vienna. The girls were quite as much +interested in these funny toys as in their own trinkets; and when all +had passed the archway, there was a gathering together of the whole +party, and a great frolic over the examination of the basket's contents; +Kate almost forgetting the glow and sparkle of her new amethyst ring in +the fun of the little gutta-percha man, who was made to wink and laugh +and shake his fist at Victor when it was presented to him by Kate. And +when Hope lifted her basket-cover and found beside the tiny Geneva watch +sent to her by her father, the merry little figure of a girl playing a +violin, while a woolly bear danced before her on a wooden stand, Jimmy, +who was Hope's partner, with gay mimicry began to imitate the bear, and +Kate cried out,-- + +"Wouldn't you, _wouldn't_ you though, _really_ like to dance to Hope's +playing?" and quick as a flash, Jimmy answered, with a gallant little +bow,-- + +"I'd like better to _listen_." + +"You'd like to listen and to dance, too, if you could hear Hope play the +Gungl' waltzes; you couldn't keep your feet still," added Kate. + +"Oh, if I _could_ hear you play, Miss Benham!" and Jimmy turned eagerly +to Hope. "There are _no_ waltzes I like so well as those. I'm coming in +to-morrow afternoon to bring my cousin some music that I've brought on +for her from her old teacher in Boston, and she is going to try it with +me in the music-room here at half-past three o'clock. Miss Marr has +kindly given us permission, and oh, would you, _could_ you, Miss Benham, +join us at four o'clock and play _one_ of the Gungl' waltzes, just one? +It would give me such pleasure." + +"I--I don't know that Miss Marr would--" + +"Oh, I am sure she would; I'll ask her.--Miss Marr," and Jimmy put out a +detaining hand, as Miss Marr at that moment was passing, and in three +minutes more his request was made and granted. Hope had her full +permission to join the two in the music-room the next afternoon and play +the Gungl' waltzes if she would like to do so. + +"And you _will_ like, won't you?" pleaded Jimmy, in his _naive_ boyish +way. + +Hope hesitated a second; then, with a little laugh, assented to his +pleading. All this had been a little aside, in the midst of the hum and +buzz of the frolic; and then, just then, it was, that suddenly, over the +ordinary clamor, Dorothea's voice rose in a noisy laugh above +everything, and her exclamation, "I told you I'd get even with you!" was +heard from end to end of the hall. + +Jimmy started as he heard it. + +"What _is_ Dolly carrying on like that for?" he thought. + +Miss Marr, too, started forward, with the same thought. And there was +Dolly, still laughing loudly, and shaking a carnival figure of paper, +free of the last scrap of its contents of sugary snow, over the person +of Mr. Raymond Armitage, her gay threat of getting even with him the +culmination of some joke that had passed between them. Miss Marr, as she +started forward, had evidently an intention of putting a decided check +upon Miss Dorothea then and there; but a look at Jimmy's face, and his +half-uttered "Oh, if Dolly _would_ think what she's about!" seemed to +change Miss Marr's intention somewhat, as it tempered her feeling; for +as she caught sight of the boy's face, she said to herself,-- + +"Poor little fellow, I won't add to his discomfort by speaking now." + +And so Dolly went on in her wild way unchecked except by Jimmy's, +"Don't, Dolly, don't! You 're making _such_ a noise, and everybody's +looking at you." + +But Dolly only laughed at this. She was having a very jolly time. She +fancied it was a very successful time, and that she was really the belle +of the evening, because Raymond Armitage plied her with flattery, and +because a good many of the others watched her with what she supposed +were entirely admiring glances. Getting glimpses of herself, too, in a +large long mirror occasionally, she saw that she had never looked +better; and, in fact, she did look very handsome, with her clear, bright +complexion, her silky black hair and brilliant eyes, framed in golden +yellow, and "all those daffodils," as Peter Van Loon had said. Yes, she +was looking very handsome; they all recognized this,--all these young +fellows who looked at her, and laughed and chatted with her, and +criticised her as "a rattler." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +The next afternoon at half-past three o'clock Jimmy made his appearance +punctually at Miss Marr's, and was received with great satisfaction by +his cousin. + +"It's such luck that you got Hope to come and play with us. I must say +you know how to manage people, Jimmy," cried Dolly, gleefully, after she +had greeted him. + +"Play _with_ us! She's coming to play _for_ us, or for me, the Gungl' +waltzes." + +"Oh, well, she'll play that duet with me now, and you'll play our +accompaniment." + +"I shall do no such thing. I am going to play _your_ accompaniment now. +Miss Benham isn't coming in until four, and after she plays the waltzes +I shall go away. As if I should take advantage of her kindness in such a +manner! And how _you_ can think of doing it, I can't understand, Dolly." + +"Yes, now begin to find fault with me!" + +"Find fault with you! I should think I might. You do such things, Dolly. +Last night, now, everybody was looking at you." + +"Why shouldn't they? A cat may look at a king, and I had an awfully +pretty gown, Jimmy;" and Dolly began to hum the closing bars of the +gavotte. + +Jimmy saw how she understood, or _mis_understood things, and burst +out,-- + +"Look here, Dolly, don't you fancy now that those fellows were thinking +of your good looks and nothing else all the time they watched you. I +know fellows better than you do. I don't say they didn't _like_ your +looks, that they didn't admire you, but I _do_ say they didn't admire +the way you went on." + +"'The way I went on'? What do you mean?" + +"_You_ know,--the way you giggled, and tossed your head, and 'made +eyes,' as the French people say, at that Armitage fellow. I didn't +happen to be near you to notice what you were doing until the last of +the evening, but that was enough. I knew, by what I _did_ see, how you'd +been going on, for I've seen you at a party before, Dolly." + +"Oh, I know what you mean; you mean that I flirt. I've heard that +before, Jimmy. _I_ can't help it if I have more attention than other +girls, just because I'm lively, and know how to talk." + +"Flirt! yes, that's what you call it,--that giggling, and tossing your +head, and saying pert things. It's like a girl at a Park Beach +picnic,--what you call 'flirting.' It is vulgar, and that's what all the +fellows I know think of it; and while _you_ think they are paying you +admiring attentions, they're just having fun at your expense; and it +makes me ashamed, for you are my cousin, and--" + +"And you are the most conceited boy that ever lived. You think you know +_everything_, and you don't know _any_thing about society. A girl is +always older than a boy in all society matters; everybody says so; and +though you're sixteen, and I'm only fifteen, I'm a whole year ahead of +you,--you're just a _little boy_ to _me_. One of my sister's friends, a +_man_ who knows, said to me, _this_ vacation, that I seemed to be +eighteen rather than fifteen." + +Jimmy stared at his cousin for a moment in sheer astonishment; then he +exclaimed,-- + +"Dolly! what _are_ you thinking of, not to see--" + +"Oh, I know what you're going to say,--not to see that it is I who am +conceited." + +"And where did you get all that stuff in your head about society; and +what idiot told you you seemed to be eighteen rather than fifteen?" + +"It was no idiot," triumphantly; "it was Mr. George Atherton." + +"George Atherton. Oh, then it is you who are the idiot not to see that +Mr. Atherton was poking fun at you, or else he meant that you _looked_ +eighteen with your height and size altogether. But it is of no use +talking to you, I see that." + +"No, it isn't of the slightest use. We've wasted time now,--the time we +ought to be trying this nocturne; and, if you please, Master Jimmy," and +Dolly bowed, with a patronizing air, "we'll begin to play, or we sha'n't +get through before Hope comes in." + +Jimmy stared again. He was seeing Dolly in a new phase. Instead of +flying into a passion, instead of turning upon him with tears and +reproaches, she stood her ground with a semblance of cool superiority +that astonished him. What did it mean? Was she getting so spoiled and +puffed up by her vanity that the truths he had placed before her went +for nothing against the flattery that she provoked? He knew that Dolly +was not very finely sensitive, was what he called "dense;" but he had +never thought that her good sense could be obscured by this density to +the extent of making her positively impervious to criticism, as she +seemed to be now. But such really was the fact. Not finely sensitive at +the start, as I have endeavored to show, Dolly was full of +self-confidence, and also full of animal spirits. With such a +combination of qualities, it was not strange that she should be +convinced that her own way was the only right way, and when led by her +vanity through a little additional flattery, this conviction became so +strong that no amount of criticism or opposition could move her. It +would be only through some individual experience, some suffering in +connection with this experience of having her own way, that Dolly would +be likely to have her eyes opened to her own mistakes, and be able to +see where she had blundered and what her blunders meant to others, as +well as herself. Fresh, however, from what she thought her success of +the night before, even Jimmy's words of protest, which usually moved her +either to anger or tears, had no effect upon her. For the time she felt +herself vastly superior to Jimmy in years and judgment, and from this +standpoint she had met his criticism with a calmness that he could not +at first understand. Of course this assumption of superiority was not a +little irritating to Jimmy, modest though he was; and as he sat there +playing the accompaniment to the nocturne, and pausing at almost every +bar to correct Dolly's false notes, he was also pondering over her false +notes in more important directions, and puzzling himself with +suppositions as to her present attitude. + +They were in the last passages of the piece, and Dolly was listening to +his corrections in an absent-minded way that exasperated him, when the +door opened, and there was Hope, with her violin, followed by Myra +Donaldson, who was to play her accompaniment. Dolly did not wait to +finish the bar she was scraping at, but jumped up at sight of Hope, with +a "Oh, there you are, and you've got that dear little violin. Isn't it a +beauty, Jimmy? See here!" and with one of her quick, confident +movements, she took the instrument--one could almost say she snatched +it--from Hope's hands, and held it out to her cousin, pointing to the +shape and the beautiful red coloring with its dark veining, repeating, +as she did so,-- + +"See! isn't it beautiful?" + +She was turning it over, when Jimmy said, with a certain quick, sharp +note in his voice,-- + +"I hope you'll excuse my cousin, Miss Benham; she has been so used to +handling her own violin carelessly she forgets that other people may +feel differently with regard to their instruments; and--" + +"Jimmy is as cross as two sticks this morning, Hope; he's done nothing +but lecture me ever since he came in," Dolly declared airily; but at the +same moment she gave the violin back into its owner's hands, to the +owner's great relief, who could not help glancing gratefully at Jimmy as +she received it. This glance of gratitude did more to restore Jimmy's +good-humor, that had been so sorely disturbed, than anything else could +have done; "for," he said to himself, "she doesn't think I'm exactly +like Dolly if I _am_ her cousin, and, in spite of Dolly, I believe we +should be first-rate friends if we saw more of each other." + +He was still more convinced of this possible friendliness as he listened +to Hope's playing,--as he saw how thorough an artist she was, how she +loved and lived in her music, when the violin was in her hands. No silly +little tricks about her, no showing off in her pose and expression like +some girl-players he had seen,--like Dolly, for instance,--and yet how +pretty she was, with that smooth, brown hair ruffling out around her +forehead, and the color coming and going, and the brown eyes, too, +coming and going, as it were, in their expression, as she played. As +pretty as Dolly _and not thinking_ about it,--not thinking about it a +bit, as she stood there, an image of grace, her chin bent lovingly down +to her violin, her skilful hands evoking such exquisite strains. And +those waltzes! Were there any that were ever written fuller of perfect +melody? So absorbed was Jimmy in all this listening and looking, he +quite forgot that he had meant to run away directly after Hope had +played. Dolly saw that he had forgotten; and while he was yet in the +tide of his enthusiastic thanks for the Gungl' waltzes, she slipped the +duet she had brought down with her on the music-rack, and said,-- + +[Illustration: "SHE STOOD THERE AN IMAGE OF GRACE, HER CHIN BENT LOVINGLY +DOWN TO HER VIOLIN"] + +"Now, Hope, do just try this with me." + +"Dolly--Miss Benham must be tired; she must want to rest," broke in +Jimmy, his face flushing, his tone revealing his mortification. + +Hope saw the flush, and noted the tone. She could not add to his +mortification, and going back to the music-stand, she said quietly,-- + +"Oh, it is one of those pretty folk-songs. Yes, I'll try it with you; +I'm not tired." + +And so it was in this way that Kate Van der Berg's prophecy was +fulfilled. + +"I knew it would come about, I knew it, I knew it!" cried Kate, +triumphantly, when Myra Donaldson told her what had happened, "for I +never saw such a persistent girl in my life as Dorothea,--so persistent +and so thick-skinned." + +"But Hope couldn't help giving in to her," explained Myra; "she was so +sorry for Dorothea's cousin." + +"Of course. I do wonder if Dorothea was clever enough to see that,--to +plan it, perhaps." + +"No, I don't think she planned it, and I don't think she saw in the +least why Hope gave in to her. She probably thought Hope had the leisure +just then, and felt like it." + +"Well, she _is_ the queerest girl; but her cousin is a dear little +fellow. My brother Schuyler and Peter Van Loon like him immensely. +Schuyler likes him so much he wants to get him to come up and visit us +this summer. I hope he will; he knows everything about a boat, and that +means a great deal in the way of a good time with us." + +"Why don't _you_ invite Dorothea to come up with him?" + +"Yes, why don't I?" and Kate laughed. Then all at once she burst out +seriously: "How she _did_ go on at the party; and look here, Myra, I'll +tell you something if you won't speak of it to any one,--any one but +Hope,--I've told Hope." + +"No, I won't say a word about it." + +"Well, you saw how she carried on,--flirted in that silly, loud way with +Raymond Armitage?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, what do you think? She--she's carrying on the flirtation still." + +"No--no, you don't mean it!" + +"I do." + +"_How_ is she carrying it on?" + +"The next day after the party, the next morning,--that's day before +yesterday,--I was down early, hunting for my carnelian pin; I'd dropped +it somewhere, and I thought it might be in the reception-room, as I +missed it soon after I had left the room to go upstairs the night +before. I found it at last under a chair by the window. It was a little +bent, and I stood at the window trying to straighten it, when I saw +three or four of the Institute boys coming along on their way to school. +One of them was Raymond Armitage; and as he passed by, I heard him say +to the others,-- + +"'I have a note from my sister that I've got to leave here. Walk on +slowly, and I'll catch up with you.' + +"Ann was in the hall dusting, and so his ring was answered immediately; +and as the reception-room door was ajar, I heard him say to her,-- + +"'Will you give this note to Miss Dorothea Dering?' + +"Then I knew that he dropped something, some piece of money, into the +girl's hand, for I could hear her say,-- + +"'Oh, thank you, sir, I'll go right up with it now,' which she did the +instant she had closed the door." + +"Well, if I ever!" + +"Wait a minute; this isn't all. Just after luncheon that very day, mamma +called and took me down town to be measured for my new jacket. After +that was over, I sat waiting in the carriage, while mamma went into a +shop to give an order. Michael drew up just beyond to make room for +another carriage, and that brought us right in front of Huyler's; and +there, through the clear glass of the door, I saw Dorothea Dering and +Raymond Armitage laughing and talking together at the ice-cream soda +counter." + +"Of all--" + +"But wait again; this isn't all. At the same hour after luncheon to-day, +as I came along the corridor past Dorothea's room, I saw Ann standing at +the open door, and whipping out from under her apron what I knew at once +was a box of candy, and I heard her say, 'The same young gentleman as +sent the note, miss.' Now, what do you think of all this?" + +"I think it is perfectly disgusting. What are you going to do about it? +Something ought to be done to stop it." + +"What _can_ I do?" + +"Oughtn't you to tell Miss Marr?" + +"Yes, I suppose I ought, if nothing else will do; but I hate to be a +tell-tale. Boys never tell tales of each other. I've got brothers, you +know, and I've heard them talk so much about that. I've heard Schuyler +say that girls grew up to be women gossips because they tattle so much +at school. If I thought it would do any good, I would speak to Dorothea; +but she would resent it, and would very likely tell me, in her blunt +way, that she could manage her own affairs, and that I'd better mind my +own business, or something of that kind." + +"Yes, I suppose that she would; but it _is_ our business as well as +hers, when she is doing something that is going to hurt the school. What +did Hope say when you told her about it?" + +"She said it ought to be stopped some way, just for that reason,--that +it would hurt the school dreadfully, as well as Dorothea, and nearly +kill Miss Marr." + +"Of course it would; it's so vulgar and cheap. When did that cousin of +Dorothea's go back?" + +"Yesterday." + +"He was staying with some relatives, wasn't he?" + +"Yes, cousins, I believe." + +"Why couldn't somebody tell _them_? They might stop it; and it must be +stopped, or--you know what Miss Marr _might_ do? She might, you know, +send her home,--expel her at once." + +"Yes, I thought of that; and that was one reason I had for not telling +her." + +"Oh, it's all so silly! What fun could there be in sneaking off to drink +ice-cream soda with Raymond Armitage?" + +"No particular fun in the soda itself. The fun to Dorothea was just the +sneaking off. You can see she thinks she's having 'great larks,' as +she'd call it,--is being independent and having adventures and being a +great flirt, and that Raymond Armitage admires her for it. And Raymond +Armitage is simply laughing in his sleeve at her. Oh, I should think any +girl would have better sense, better taste; and Anna Fleming talks about +her family." + +"But she isn't the only one of her family. There's her cousin; look at +him: he's a little gentleman if ever there was one. What would he say to +her if he knew? And just think! there she was back again, playing on her +violin with him as cool as you please, directly after her lark, and no +doubt pluming herself on it." + +"I wonder what excuse she made to get off as she did?" + +"Excuse? You don't suppose she made any excuse? Not she. She just +skipped out, in the rest hour, when Miss Marr and the other teachers +were off duty; and she managed to come back at the right time. Oh, it +makes me more and more indignant the longer I think of it, for it's a +bigger shame because Miss Marr is so nice about our school parties and +our receptions, and treats us like ladies, and trusts us to _be_ ladies, +and not to deceive her. But hark! it's striking six, and I must get +ready for dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +"Yes, I suppose that is the best thing for me to do; but oh, Hope! you +don't know, you can't think how I dread it." + +"Yes, I can _think_;" and Hope laughed a little. + +"She'll be so angry she'll say horrid things to me." + +"Yes, you may count on that." + +"_When_ would you tell her?" + +"I'd go now and tell her this very minute, it ought to be done at once." + +"Oh, dear! well, I'll take your advice, and you'll wait for me here, +won't you?" + +"Yes, I'll wait for you here and study up my history lesson." + +"All right; and wish me courage and success." Then, with a little nod +and a rueful smile, Kate Van der Berg went on her mission to Dorothea; +for it had finally, after much consultation between the three friends, +been thought best for Kate to go straight to Dorothea and appeal to her. + +Dorothea was at the desk in her room writing a note as Kate entered,--a +note she hastily turned over blank side up as she saw her visitor. There +was a rather flurried look on her face, as Kate said, "Am I interrupting +you?" though she answered readily enough, "Oh, no; I thought it was one +of the servants when you knocked, that's all." Then, not very cordially, +"Won't you sit down?" + +This was not a very promising beginning, and Kate's heart began to fail +her. At this point, however, she caught sight of a photograph. It was +the photograph of Raymond Armitage, and her courage returned. + +Dorothea had seen her glance of recognition, and remarked coolly: "Isn't +it like him? He's very handsome, I think, don't you?" + +"I--I don't know," stammered Kate; then, throwing all hesitation to the +winds, she began to speak, and this she did at the start in the kindest, +gentlest way in the world, telling of what she had seen and heard, as +she had told Hope and Myra, and winding up with: "I felt that I ought to +speak to you--to tell you what you might not know--how much all this +would affect Miss Marr and injure yourself; that if--if she heard--if +she knew--she might--might write to your parents, and ask them--to--to +take you home." + +"Oh, I see--expel me, that's what you mean. The old cat, she won't do +any such thing! I never saw anything like the way you all go on over +that woman. I like her well enough. I was tremendously taken with her +and her tailor gowns when I first came, but I didn't bow down before her +as the rest of you did, and I have never believed she was of so much +consequence as she was set up to be; and as for her throwing away a lot +of money by sending a girl off for being a little independent and having +a little fun in her own way, she's too smart to do any such thing. My +gracious! I should think I had tried to set the house on fire by the +fuss you make! And what have I done? Just had a little sociable time +with an acquaintance without asking leave of her High-and-Mightiness." + +Kate had hard work to control herself. At the phrase "old cat," her very +soul had risen up in revolt. To speak in such terms of Miss Marr!--Miss +Marr, who was so fine and sweet, so considerate and sympathetic, who was +indeed like an older girl friend to them all. And then, "What have I +done? Just had a little sociable time with an acquaintance, without +asking leave of her High-and-Mightiness." Kate lifted up her chin +suddenly, as she recalled these words, and as coolly as she could, +said,-- + +"I suppose you know that if you _had_ asked for leave to write notes to +Raymond Armitage, and to receive them from him, and to make appointments +with him to go down town, and all that, it would have done no +good,--that, of course, Miss Marr, or any head of a school, would not +have given you permission." + +"No, of course they wouldn't; but that's only one of the stiff little +bars that boarding-schools set up." + +"And you wouldn't want to do such things half as much if there were no +bars against them." + +"But what harm is there in 'such things,' as you call them? Suppose my +cousin Jimmy was at boarding-school, and took a notion to write a note +to a girl, and to meet her down town and drink ice-cream soda with her, +would any teacher think he had done such a dreadful thing,--a thing for +which he deserved to be expelled?" + +"They'd think he had done wrong in going against the laws of the school, +but it _wouldn't_ do him the harm that it would a girl, because a girl +is supposed to be a little differently situated from a boy. If she has +been brought up like a lady, she isn't expected to be planning meetings +with young men on the sly. She is supposed to have a little dignity; and +as everybody knows that no boy would think of proposing such silly +out-of-the-way things to a girl unless he had been encouraged by her to +dare them, so the girl who is found to have gone on in such silly ways +is talked about as bold and unladylike, and that is an injury that may +leave a black and blue spot on her forever; and you must see, if you +will stop to think about it a minute, that such a girl would injure the +school she happened to be in,--would leave a black and blue spot on +that." + +Kate had tried to be very forbearing at the start; but as she was +confronted by Dorothea's density, as she saw how vain and foolish, not +to say ignorant, were her estimates, her patience gave way, and she +spoke the whole of her mind then and there, without reserve and without +softening her words. It is needless to say that Dorothea was furious to +be called by implication bold and unladylike, and a possible injury to +the school. Out of this fury she burst forth,-- + +"I never, never in all my life heard of such impudence! _You_ to talk of +being brought up like a lady! You are the most conceited, meddling, +_un_ladylike girl I ever met! What business is it of yours, anyway? Who +set you up to manage this school? You think you can manage everybody, +and that you know more about society and propriety than anybody else. +You're nothing but a Dutch girl, anyway; and as for being expelled from +this school, I'll expel myself if this kind of interference is to be +allowed. I'm about tired, anyhow, of such a peeking, prying, +puss-puss-in-the-corner place. Miss Marr is making you into a little lot +of primmy old maids just as fast as she can; and I for one--" + +But Kate did not wait to hear any more of this outburst. She did not +dare, in fact, to trust herself to reply. Hope, who was sitting curled +up in the library waiting, as she had promised, heard the quick, flying +footsteps, as they came along, and said to herself, "She's had a horrid +time, I know." But _how_ horrid she had not imagined until poor Kate +poured forth the story. It was a very honestly told story,--not a word +of her own part in it omitted in the whole detail. But as she thus +honestly, and with just her own peculiar lift of the head and emphatic +way, repeated all she had said, Hope's lips began to twitch, and at last +she began to laugh. + +"How mean of you!" cried Kate. Then she joined in the laugh, as she +realized how little adapted her words had been to soften Dorothea, and +how fully adapted to rousing her resentment and rebellion. + +"But I began beautifully, Hope. I was as mild and persuasive as +possible; but when she called Miss Marr 'an old cat,' I _couldn't_ keep +on being mild and persuasive. How could I?" + +"I think it must have been hard work, and I don't wonder you said just +what you did; and perhaps, after all, the plain truth, though it makes +her so angry now, will have the most effect in the end." + +"Yes, in the end; but--but, Hope, what I've been afraid of is that +she'll do something right away,--something reckless and daring, just to +show she isn't afraid of anything and doesn't care." + +"Oh, I didn't think of that; but I don't believe she will. She'll +remember what you said about Miss Marr's writing to her parents, and +that will stop her." + +"I don't know," responded Kate, doubtfully. "She looked to me as if she +would brave anything, she was so angry." + +For a day or two the three--Hope and Myra and Kate--were on the _qui +vive_, expecting some catastrophe; but as at the close of the second day +everything seemed to go on as usual, and Dorothea, with the exception of +holding aloof from them, was the same as ever, they relaxed a little of +their apprehension. + +Once or twice in these days they had noticed that Bessie Armitage had +regarded Dorothea with a queer, quizzical sort of look,--"Just as if she +knew something was or had been going on," Myra declared. + +Hope laughed at this declaration. What could Bessie know? She was not a +boarding-pupil, only "an outsider," as they called the girls who were +the day pupils; and the outsiders never knew what was going on in the +house unless some one of the boarding-girls told them, and there was +certainly no one to tell Bessie about this affair. + +"Perhaps Raymond may have told his sister," suggested Myra. + +"Raymond Armitage!" exclaimed Kate. "Not he; there are brothers and +brothers. Raymond Armitage is not one of the brothers who are +confidential with their sisters. It would be much more his way to tell a +boy friend,--to tell him and brag about it to him. That's just the kind +of boy Raymond Armitage is, in my opinion. I like Bessie, but I never +liked that brother of hers. I never like boys who have such awfully +flattering ways with girls. Raymond Armitage is always paying +compliments to girls, always agreeing with everything they say, or +pretending to. He--he's--I don't know just how to put it--but he's too +conscious all the time. Now, there's Peter Van Loon and Victor Graham +and that nice Jimmy Dering, they're polite enough for anybody; but they +treat me as if I was a human being like themselves, and agree with me or +disagree with me as they do with each other. They're honest, and that's +the kind I like and trust, and I don't trust the other kind. I always +feel as if these smiling, smirking, constantly agreeing kind were making +fun of me." + +"So do I," "And so do I," exclaimed Hope and Myra, in a breath. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +The next day was Saturday, and directly after a very early +twelve-o'clock luncheon the girls were all going to the Park to skate. +Miss Marr had a cold, and was not able to accompany them, as she usually +did on these outings. She sent, in her stead, two of the under +teachers,--Miss Stephens and Miss Thompson. + +"And if we _can't_ have Miss Marr, Stevey and Tommy are not bad," Kate +Van der Berg declared, rather irreverently, as she ran up to her room to +make herself ready. Several girls were following in her wake; amongst +them was Dorothea, who suddenly retorted to Kate's words,-- + +"Perhaps _some_ of us had quite as lief have Stevey and Tommy as Miss +Marr." + +It was the first time that Dorothea had responded even indirectly to any +remarks of Kate's since their stormy interview; and though there was a +sharp flavor in what was said, Kate held herself in, and did not reply +to it. But one of the younger girls called out in protest,-- + +"Oh, how can you say that! There's nobody like Miss Marr. I never skate +half so well with any one else as I do with her." + +"Yes, but you are contented to skate _her way_, I suppose," flung back +Dorothea, with a little disagreeable laugh. + +"Course I am, because she knows just how; and so her way's better than +mine," was the innocent answer to this. + +"And I like _my_ way best sometimes, and take it," returned Dorothea, +with another disagreeable laugh. + +Kate understood perfectly well that these flings were aimed at her, and +not at little Lily Chester; but she was determined to take no notice of +them. + +Dorothea, however, in spite of this sudden outburst of rancor, seemed to +be in excellent spirits, and laughed and talked with one and another of +the girls with even more than her usual volubility. Arrived at the Park, +however, her spirits seemed to flag. Kate, who had caught her quick, +searching glance across the pond, thought at once: "She is disappointed +in not finding somebody here that she expected. I wonder if it is +Raymond Armitage?" But just at that moment a shrill halloo reached Kate, +and wheeling about she saw Peter Van Loon, with her brother Schuyler and +little Johnny, skating down the ice towards her, and Dorothea and her +affairs vanished from her mind. It was some time later that she was +curiously recalled to her, by Peter Van Loon suddenly exclaiming, +"Hello, there's Armitage now, going off with the daffodil girl!" + +"The daffodil girl!" What did he mean? Kate followed the direction of +Peter's eyes, and saw Raymond Armitage with Dorothea, who had a lot of +daffodils stuck in her belt,--a fresh offering, evidently, from her +escort. + +"But why do you call her the 'daffodil girl?'" asked Kate, wonderingly. + +"Oh, you know she had such a lot of them when I first saw her--and with +the yellow gown--she looked all daffodils, and I didn't know her name +then." + +"And so you called her 'the daffodil girl;'" and Kate laughed: this was +so like Peter. + +"Yes; so I called her the 'daffodil girl,'" assented Peter, smiling a +little at Kate's laugh. + +The pond by this time had become pretty well covered with skaters, and +it was not easy to keep any one in view; but Dorothea was tall, and for +a while the nodding plumes in her hat were distinctly visible to Kate +and her companion, as they held on their way; but presently the nodding +plumes turned in another direction, and they lost sight of them, and out +of sight was out of mind again. In the mean time Hope, with Schuyler Van +der Berg and little Johnny, was coursing about in the merriest manner, +little Johnny proudly showing Hope how to use a hocky stick on the ice. +In this absorbing occupation the two approached the spot where some of +the attendants and chaperons of the different parties were made +comfortable; and as they did so, Hope, to her surprise, saw Dorothea +Dering leaving the ice in company with Raymond Armitage. + +What did this mean? Dorothea was always the last one to leave the ice. +But there was Miss Stephens--Miss Stephens would know what it meant; and +skating up to her, Hope asked the question, and was told, in Miss +Stephens's placid, easy way, that Miss Dering had got tired of skating, +and Miss Bessie Armitage and her brother, who were just leaving, had +taken charge of her to Miss Marr's. + +Dorothea tired of skating at this early hour? Why, they had but just +begun! And where was Bessie? Miss Stephens had said, "Miss Bessie +Armitage and her brother;" and she, Hope, had only seen the brother, +Raymond Armitage. Perhaps, however, Bessie had gone on ahead; +but--but--and a whole host of suppositions came crowding into Hope's +mind. If it had been any other of the girls, none of these suppositions +would have arisen. If Myra Donaldson or Anna Fleming had confessed to +being tired, and had given out that she was going home under the escort +of Bessie Armitage and her brother, who would have thought but that it +was the most natural and proper thing in the world, and who--_who_ would +have thought of questioning the statement as it stood? But Dorothea, +with her little plots and plans, had clearly shown herself another +person entirely, and it was little wonder that Hope, under the +circumstances, should suspect further plotting and planning. + +"What is it,--what's up?" asked ten-year-old Johnny, as his companion +suddenly forgot all interest in the hockey stick, and stood balancing +herself on her skates, with a puzzled frown drawing her brows together. + +For answer, Hope turned about with a "I don't know, Johnny, but we'll go +and find Kate. I want to ask her something." + +"All right;" and Johnny struck out to the left, where he saw his +sister's Scotch skating-cap, with its glittering aigrette, shining in +the sun. + +"Tired of skating? Gone home?" cried Kate, when Hope told her story. "I +don't believe it! Schuyler!" + +"Oh, I wouldn't!" expostulated Hope. + +"Yes, I'm going to ask Schuyler--I want to know--Schuyler, did Raymond +Armitage come out in the same car with you?" + +"Part way, but he left the car at Madison Square; he had ordered some +theatre seats, and he stopped at the theatre to see if they were all +right." + +"Oh, and then he came on here to meet Bessie?" + +"Bessie?" + +"Yes; funny, though, I haven't seen her. Have _you_ seen her?" + +"No." + +"And yet Hope says that Miss Stephens told her that Dorothea had got +tired of skating, and gone home under the escort of Bessie Armitage and +her brother." + +"Miss Stephens?" + +"Yes, Miss Stephens, one of the under-teachers, who is blind and deaf +about some things,--a good, dear stupid, who thinks everybody is a lamb, +and Raymond Armitage the Prince of Lambs, I suppose, and like the father +of his country, and cannot tell a lie, and--" + +"But perhaps Bessie was just ahead, and Miss Stephens _did_ see her," +put in Hope. + +"And didn't take her for granted," scoffed Kate. Then, as she caught a +look that her brother and Peter exchanged, she cried,-- + +"What is it? Peter!" bringing one little skate-clad foot down on the ice +with an emphasis that sent out a shower of sparkles, "tell me instantly +what you know. Don't you see, you two boys, that it's for the credit of +the school,--of dear Miss Marr, of Dorothea (silly goose that she is), +and all the rest of us,--that this kind of thing shall be nipped in the +bud? Don't you see that you _ought_ to tell what you know, that some of +us can stop the foolishness, and save Dorothea from being sent home?" + +"Come now, you don't mean that;" and Peter stopped short in that odd way +of his. + +"Yes, I do mean that Miss Marr would send Dorothea straight home if she +heard of her going off for a lark with Raymond Armitage. She says at the +start that her school is neither an infant school nor a reform school, +and if she finds that girls of fifteen and sixteen don't know how to +behave like ladies in the ordinary ways of good manners, they are not +the kind of girls she wants in her house, and so she sends them out of +it. There isn't any nagging or any little punishments. She advises us +and talks to us in a nice friendly way at the beginning, and sometimes +later; but she lets a girl alone enough to find out just what she is, +and _then_, when she finds out that the girl has faults and habits that +may injure the other girls, she won't have her in her school; and so now +I want you to tell us--Hope and me--what you know about this going off +with Raymond Armitage, so that--" + +"You may go and tell Miss Marr, and have her pack the girl off home." + +"Schuyler!" + +"Oh, well, I didn't mean exactly that, of course; but what _do_ you +propose to do?" + +"Stop the foolishness, whatever it is, that may be going on." + +"Well, after what you told me the other day of your undertaking in that +line with this particular party, I shouldn't think you'd attempt +anything further with her." + +"But somebody must do it. I don't like Dorothea, I didn't from the +first; but I want her to have another chance, and I do so hate to have +things come to the pass of her being expelled; it would be perfectly +horrid for all of us. But we're only wasting time if you won't help us +by telling--" + +"But what is it you want to know?" + +"What _you_ know; in the first place, if Ray Armitage said that he was +coming here to meet his sister, and if he _expected_ her to be here?" + +"Well, no; he didn't say anything about his sister." + +"Did he say anything about Dorothea?" + +"Yes." + +"That he was coming here to meet _her_?" + +"Yes." + +"And that he was going to take _her_ with him this afternoon to the +matinée?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, oh, Schuyler, you _must_ come with me down to the Madison Square +Theatre and head them off!" + +"Head them off! They've got there by this time." + +"No; they were going out on the other side, where they had just left +Miss Stephens, because _that_ was the way they would take to go straight +to Miss Marr's. Don't you see? Ray Armitage's cunning! Now, if _we_ go +out on this side, and take the elevated, we shall get ahead of them, +and--" + +"Well, I just sha'n't do anything of the kind! I'd like to see myself +playing private policeman like that! If the girl is such a blooming +idiot as this, she won't pay any attention to you! No, I guess I don't +try any such missionary work, to be laughed at by all the fellows in +town." + +"Laughed at!" A glance upward as she said this, and Kate caught the grin +on Peter Van Loon's face, and burst forth: "Oh, that's all your +manliness is worth! You're afraid,--afraid some other selfish fellows +will laugh at you for doing your duty." + +"'Tisn't _my duty_!" + +"No, it isn't, Kate; he's right." + +Kate turned about in astonishment, for it was Hope who had spoken, and +Hope who went on speaking,-- + +"And _you_--_you_ ought not to go, Kate; Dorothea would--would--" + +"Be madder than ever. But what _can_ be done?" + +"_I'll_ go." + +"_You?_" + +"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley. I've just caught sight of her; see, she is over +there talking to Johnny. If I tell her how it is--what I want to do, +she'll understand, she'll be glad to help; and Dorothea will listen to +her, when she wouldn't to you or to me, I dare say." + +"Well, that's a much more sensible plan than yours, Kate," commented +Schuyler Van der Berg, as Hope darted off; "but all the same it's my +opinion that Miss Dorothea Dering isn't going to be kept from that +matinée performance, even if they catch her in time." + +"Which they won't," spoke up Peter, as he looked at his watch. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +And Peter was right; for, as Mrs. Sibley and Hope neared the theatre, +they saw Dorothea's nodding plumes just disappearing through the wide +open doorway. + +"And we're too late," cried Hope,--"too late, after all." + +"Too late to try to prevent the girl from going into the theatre,--yes, +and I thought we should be when we started; there had been too much time +lost before you spoke to me. We should have taken the car that preceded +the one that we came in; but I doubt if it would have done any good if +we _had_ been earlier. But I'll tell you what we'll do now. We'll go in +to the matinée ourselves. Miss Marr," smiling down at Hope, "would be +perfectly willing that you should go under my chaperonage." + +"Oh, yes, yes, of course." + +"You see, in doing this, we may be able to help this foolish girl, after +all, by taking her home under our escort, after the matinée is over. She +will hurry out, naturally, to get home before dark, and I am sure even +such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser for her to go +back to Miss Marr's in our company than with young Armitage." + +"Mrs. Sibley, you don't think it is wrong, do you, for us to keep all +this from Miss Marr,--to go on covering everything up from her while we +try to get Dorothea out--out of all these queer ways of hers? It makes +me feel as if--as if there might be something sly and underhand in going +on like this,--something like being disloyal to Miss Marr, and deceiving +her." + +"You needn't worry about that, my dear. I know Angelique Marr, and I am +sure it would be a relief to her to have Dorothea helped out of her +queer ways, as you put it, by girls like you and Kate. Miss Marr knows +perfectly well that a _teacher's_ opposition wouldn't influence a girl +like Dorothea favorably,--that it would be more likely to rouse a +counter opposition. It is only girls of her own age who would be likely +to influence her; and so, knowing this, the teacher has to be silent a +good many times when she may suspect things that she would _like_ to +oppose; then, when the flagrant offence is forced upon her, there would +be no alternative but to see that the offender was punished according to +the stated rules of the school government, if the school itself was to +be respected and to maintain its position." + +Greatly comforted by these words, Hope followed Mrs. Sibley into the +theatre. There had been no difficulty, even at this late moment, in +obtaining very good back seats,--seats from which one could command an +excellent view of the audience, if not of the stage; and Hope at once +began a careful survey of this audience, her far-seeing young eyes +roving rapidly from section to section in keen investigation. She was +suddenly interrupted in this investigation by a whisper from Mrs. +Sibley. + +"Aren't you looking too far down in front? Isn't that the girl?" + +"Where?" + +"Two rows in front of us, to the right." + +Hope looked in the direction indicated; and there, two rows in front, to +the right, sure enough, was Dorothea. + +She was laughing and whispering with her companion, evidently in the +gayest spirits; and Hope's heart sank within her at the thought of what +she had undertaken, as she caught sight of her. Why, oh, why, had she +been so rash as to think of interfering with this girl in any way? For, +as she regarded her there, she felt sure that she would look upon their +suggestion of taking her home as an interference, to be resented and +rejected. "Even such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser +for her to go back to Miss Marr in our company than with young +Armitage," Mrs. Sibley had confidently declared. But Mrs. Sibley didn't +know Dorothea, Hope now reflected, as there came crowding up to her, at +the sight of that handsome, arrogant face, all her own bitter knowledge +of her. And with this knowledge, why--why had she been so rash? And to +have brought kind, sweet Mrs. Sibley here to be, perhaps, insulted; for +if Dorothea _did_ resent their suggestion, she wouldn't hesitate to +express herself with her usual freedom. For a moment, overcome by all +these thoughts, poor Hope had a mind to say to Mrs. Sibley: "Our plan +won't be of the slightest use. Dorothea won't accept our offer, and we +might as well give it up." The next moment, ashamed of her cowardice, +she said to herself: "How can I be so mean? It's my duty to go ahead and +try to carry out what I've undertaken. If I fail--if Dorothea does turn +upon me, I must bear it,--that's all." + +And with this resolve, she directed her attention to the stage. It was +only when the curtain fell after the first act that she glanced again +towards the pair to the right. She was just in time to see Mr. Raymond +Armitage bowing with effusion to a party of ladies several seats in +front; and then, evidently with a word of explanation and excuse to +Dorothea, he jumped up and went forward to speak to them. The youngest +of the party was a very elegant young woman, whose notice seemed to be +much appreciated by Mr. Raymond Armitage, as he bent before her. The +other ladies, too, were apparently of consequence to him. But when Hope +saw him linger beyond the moment of greeting, her glance wandered back +to Dorothea. What did Dorothea think of being left to herself like this +by her fine escort? There might be the excuse of some message or other, +for his leaving her for a moment, but to linger moment by moment _for +his own pleasure_,--yes, that was it,--how would Miss Dorothea take +this? A sudden turn of her head showed Hope pretty plainly how she took +it, for in place of the gay satisfaction that had made her face radiant, +there was a very unmistakable look of astonishment and mortification. + +Mrs. Sibley, who had also been observant of this little by-play, here +whispered to Hope,-- + +"How rude to leave her like that!" + +"And how mortified she is--look!" responded Hope. + +Several times after this they saw him make a movement as if to return to +his place, but each time some word addressed to him by one of the ladies +would be enough to detain him. When finally he did return, the orchestra +was playing the last of its selections before the rising of the curtain +again. That he was profuse in his apologies, the two interested +observers could plainly perceive. They could also perceive that Dorothea +was by no means disposed to accept these apologies in a benignant +spirit. At last, however, he seemed to make his peace in a measure, for +a half smile began to hover about Dorothea's lips, and by the time the +curtain had risen again, and the merry little play that was on the +boards was again making everybody laugh, Dorothea was joining in the +laugh as heartily as any one. The play ended in a little whirlwind of +applause. In the midst of this, Mrs. Sibley noticed that young Armitage +was hurrying his companion off in great haste, and whispered to Hope,-- + +"They are hurrying probably to catch the next car; and if we go put at +once by the right aisle, we shall meet them face to face, and it will be +quite easy for you then to propose to take Dorothea with us. She _must_ +see the point,--that it is much better for her to go back to Miss Marr's +in our company, and be glad of the opportunity we offer her." + +Hope nodded assent; but her heart quaked, as she followed Mrs. Sibley +through the passages between the seats, and fancied that moment when she +should meet Dorothea face to face and see her stare of astonishment, and +then, oh, then, hear, perhaps, her scornful rejection of the opportunity +offered her! But they were not to meet Dorothea face to face as they +came out on that right aisle. A little delay in pushing through brought +them behind instead of in front of the pair, and-- + +"No, I thank you, I can find the car by myself!" were the words that +they heard on that instant; and the tone in which these words were +delivered was sharp and angry, not the tone of friendly agreement. +Evidently young Armitage had not waited for his companion to suggest +that she had better return without his escort to Miss Marr's door, and +evidently Dorothea had resented the fact that the suggestion had come +from him. + +"But you ought not to be angry with me," they heard him protest. "I +shouldn't think of letting you go alone if it wasn't better for you. The +car is on the line of your street, and you might meet--might meet--one +of your teachers, you know, and that would make trouble for you. It's +just to help you that I--" + +"Oh, really, it's a pity you didn't think of this earlier before you +said we would go back by the other line, where we shouldn't run the risk +of meeting the teachers." + +"Yes, I know; but as I have come to think it over, I see that the other +cars will keep you out so much longer, I thought you would rather--" + +"As you have come to think it over _since you met your friends_, you see +that it will be more convenient for you not to take up the time by going +round by the other line. Perhaps your friends want you to find _their_ +car for them. Anyway, whatever engagement you've made with them, don't +keep them waiting for _me_; I can find _my_ car by myself, as I said." + +"Miss Dering!" in an expostulating tone, "I haven't made any engagement +to hurry me away; I'm only going to dine at the Waldorf by and by with +these friends,--they're Washington friends of my mother and Bessie,--but +I needn't hurry, not the least, and of course I shall take you home by +the other line if you like that best." + +"But I don't like it best--_now_. I--I--" + +Hope here caught sight of Dorothea's face,--the quivering lips, the eyes +that were striving against tears,--and obeying a swift, warm impulse of +pity and sympathy, forgot her fears in it, and called out softly,-- + +"Dorothea! Dorothea!" + +Dorothea turned a startled glance behind her at this call. Then, "What! +_you_ here, Hope?" she exclaimed. + +"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley." + +"Oh, and you're going straight home--to Miss Marr's? Mrs. Sibley is to +take you?" stepping back to Hope's side. + +"Yes." + +"And may I--will you let me come with you?" in a whisper, and clutching +Hope's wrist nervously. + +"Yes, oh, yes; I was going to ask you if you wouldn't like to come with +us." + +"Were you?" A quick glance at Hope from the black eyes still struggling +against tears, a closer clutch upon Hope's wrist, then a sudden +conquering of the quivering lips, and, "I needn't keep you waiting any +longer, I have found friends who will take me home," Mr. Raymond +Armitage was told with a dignity that surprised and rather abashed him. +Hope, too, was surprised at the real dignity displayed, and slid her +hand into the hand that was clutching her wrist, with a sudden movement +of approbation and sympathy. Dorothea gave a quick start, and turned an +inquiring look upon Hope's face at this movement,--a look that seemed to +ask, "Do you really feel like this toward me?" + +With wise forethought, Mrs. Sibley, on leaving the Park, had directed +her coachman, who was awaiting her with the carriage at that point to +drive round to the theatre and await her there. If he did not find her +ready for him at once, he was to return at four o'clock. She had thus +provided for either result of her expedition. If the elevated, swift +though it was, did not enable them to reach the theatre in time to +interview Dorothea as she arrived, the carriage would be on hand at four +to take her back with them after the play, for Mrs. Sibley had no manner +of doubt from the first that the girl would go with them, though she +little thought it would be under the present conditions. + +Indeed, she had looked forward to a very different state of things; and +sure though she felt of ultimate success, she fully expected to bring it +about by adroit management. Instead of this, however, here was this +difficult-to-be-dealt-with Dorothea not only willing, but gratefully +glad, to avail herself of the opportunity offered her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +"And you mean that you _won't_ tell her about Ray Armitage's rudeness?" + +"No, I won't tell her if you feel like this,--if you don't want me to +tell her." + +"Of course I don't want you to, but of course I expected that you +_would_ tell her; she's such a chum of yours. I know it would have been +the first thing _I_ should have done with a chum of mine." + +"Well, _I_ should have spoken of it to Kate, naturally, but for your +feeling; and she would have been very nice about it, just as indignant +and disgusted with him as I am." + +"Perhaps so; but she's tried to do me good and failed too much to be +very sorry for anything that would mortify me; and I _know_ if she heard +of this rudeness to me, she'd think it served me right,--would teach me +a lesson." + +Hope couldn't help laughing a little at this. Then she said suddenly, +"How do you know that I don't feel just the same?" + +"Oh, I know you don't exactly approve of me; but you haven't cut me up +as she has, and then tried to set me right in that superior way; and you +haven't meddled with me or my affairs." + +"You don't know what I have done. You took it for granted that I +happened to go to the theatre with Mrs. Sibley to please myself, that I +happened to be behind you, and so happened to hear your talk with +Raymond Armitage. But I _didn't_ go there to please myself. I went there +on purpose to--to meddle with you and your affairs!" + +"What in the world _do_ you mean?" + +"I'll tell you." And then and there Hope told the whole story of her +meddling, and why she did it,--the whole story, from the moment she had +observed Dorothea leaving the Park with Raymond Armitage to her own +departure with Mrs. Sibley; and this, of course, included the +consultation with Kate, and the information regarding Raymond Armitage's +movements that was wrung from Schuyler Van der Berg. As she neared the +end of this story, Hope rose from her chair. Dorothea would not now +desire her presence, as she had desired it a few minutes ago when they +entered the house together after Mrs. Sibley had left them, and when, +full of relief and gratitude, she had said: "Oh, do come up to my room +for a few minutes! I want to ask you something." No, she would no longer +desire her presence, even with the added relief,--the added debt of +gratitude for Hope's voluntary offer to say nothing of Raymond +Armitage's rudeness. She would not only no longer desire her presence, +but she would doubtless turn upon her with hot resentment, as she had +turned upon Kate on a previous occasion; and it was to avoid the +outburst of this resentment that Hope rose to make herself ready to +leave the room when she had come to the end of her story. But as she +said her last word, as she turned to go,-- + +"Don't, don't go!" was called after her, in a queer stifled voice, not +at all like Dorothea's usual high loud tones when she was protesting +against anything,--a queer stifled voice that had--could it be +possible?--a sound of tears in it? and--and there was a look in +Dorothea's eyes,--yes, a look, as if the tears were there too, were +almost ready to fall. + + +[Illustration: "DON'T, DON'T GO"] + +A lump began to rise in Hope's throat. Had she been too harsh in what +she had told, or in the way she had told it? Had they all been too +harsh, too cold in their treatment of this girl's offences? It was true +that they were all against her,--the "all" who comprised the little set +of the older girls, and perhaps--perhaps--But what was that that +Dorothea was saying? + +"I think you've been awfully kind to take all this trouble for me; and +I've always thought you were so indifferent,--that you didn't in the +least care what became of me." + +"Kind? indifferent? I don't understand," faltered Hope, staring blankly +in her amazement at Dorothea. + +"Yes, I should never have thought of your taking the least trouble, +putting yourself out for me. I knew you didn't approve of me very much, +but I supposed that you were so indifferent that it didn't matter to +you. I don't half believe, and I never have, that such dreadful +consequences would come of going against Miss Marr's rules; but _you_ +do, I see, and it was awfully kind of you to take all this trouble to +pull me out of the danger you thought I was in,--awfully kind, and I +sha'n't forget it; and if you call this meddling, it's a very different +sort of meddling from some other people's. It's easy enough for some +folks to _talk_ and criticise everything you do, telling you what you +ought and what you ought not to do, as if you were a mere ignoramus. I +never would stand that kind of thing. Yes, it's a very different sort of +thing that you've done, to put yourself out, and maybe run a risk +yourself in doing it; and then to promise, as you have, not to say +anything about that horrid part of the whole affair,--Raymond Armitage's +hateful impoliteness! Well, I don't think there are many girls that +would hold their tongues like that; and I--I--I just--just--love you for +it!" wound up Dorothea, her voice breaking in a sudden little tempest of +tears. + +"Oh, but I--I--I'm not what you--what you think--I'm not--I don't +deserve--you don't know me," stammered Hope, astonished and embarrassed +beyond words. + +"I knew you from the first, the very first," went on Dorothea. + +Hope started. + +"From the very first, when I saw you coming down the corridor that +afternoon I arrived, as the kind of girl I'd like,--a girl who wouldn't +be mean and meddlesome; and I knew you were a lady of the real stuff, +and you _are_--a long shot ahead of most of 'em here; and oh, I say--" +Dorothea had now conquered her tears,--"aren't you the girl I saw last +year at Papanti's with the Edlicotts?" + +"No." + +"Well, you look so like her I thought you might be, or some relation of +hers maybe. You're just of her stamp, any way. Anna Fleming is always +talking about those Knickerbocker Van der Bergs as if they were ahead of +everybody else, and she is always quoting Kate Van der Berg as being so +swell in her looks and her manners. Looks and manners! I told Anna the +last time she said this to me, that _you_ were a great sight _more_ +swell. And you are. Oh, I know who's who; there can't anybody tell _me_! +Manners! I don't call it very good manners to talk _at_ people as Kate +Van der Berg has talked at me, with all that stuff of what her brother +Schuyler says about girls. She never liked me from the start, and she +did what she could to set you, and, for that matter, the rest of the +girls against me. I soon caught on to that. If it hadn't been for her--" + +"Oh, Dorothea! Dorothea!" burst in Hope at this point, "I can't let you +go on any more like this,--it would be mean and cowardly and +dishonorable in me. You're all wrong, all wrong! Kate hasn't set me or +any one else against you. You don't know, you don't remember--you think +I--I would have been more--more sociable--more friendly, if it hadn't +been for Kate, but--but it is--it is Kate who would have been more +sociable, more friendly perhaps, if it hadn't been for me! _You_ have +forgotten _me_--you have forgotten that we have ever met before, +but we have, and _I_ have never forgotten, for you--you hurt me +horribly--horribly at that time. I remember everything about it--every +word; and when I met you in the corridor, the day you arrived here in +the autumn, I knew you at once, but I saw that you had forgotten me, and +I--" + +"But when--where--how long ago was it--that time we met first--and what +in the world did I say to hurt you so?" interrupted Dorothea with +wide-open eyes of amazement. + +"It was at Brookside, years ago." + +"At Brookside? I never knew a girl like you at Brookside." + +"Not like me now. I was only ten years old then, and I--was selling +mayflowers in the Brookside station." + +"Oh, I remember! I remember!" cried Dorothea, leaping down from the bed +where she was sitting. "And you--you are that girl?" + +"Yes, my father was an engineer on that road, and couldn't afford to buy +me what I wanted more than anything in the world--a violin, and I +thought I would have to give it up--to go without it, until one day on +the street I heard a boy with a basket of mayflowers crying 'Ten cents a +bunch,' and then I saw how I might earn the money that I wanted so much, +and buy my violin myself." + +"And you--_you_ are that little girl--that little 'Ten-cents-a-bunch,' +as I called you afterward to my father! Oh, oh, it all comes to me now; +how mad I got because you stood up to me, and talked back to me. I +suppose I was a great inquisitive brat, and fired off a lot of +inquisitive questions at you,--I was always asking questions,--and you +got mad at 'em and went for me, and then _I_ got mad with you, and we +had a regular squabble. I told my father about it, and he laughed and +said, 'I don't think you had the best of it, Dolly;' and then I +remember, too, something he said to Mary, my sister,--Mary had taken a +great fancy to you,--something about your father knowing a lot about +engines,--being a genius at that kind of thing; and then papa laughed +again and asked me, if your father should turn out a millionaire some +day, how'd I like my impudent little girl--that's _you_, you +know--turning into a millionaire's daughter, and I said I'd say,'Ten +cents a bunch to her,' and I have, I have! For your father _has_ turned +into a millionaire, hasn't he? and that's what it means, your being +here, and your having a Stradivari violin! Oh, oh, oh, it's just like a +story, just like a play--a Cinderella play; but," catching a queer +expression on Hope's face, "I'm awfully sorry I hurt your feelings as I +did, but you mustn't lay it up against me,--nobody ever lays anything up +against me. I didn't _mean_ to hurt your feelings, but I didn't know any +better then, and anyhow, everything's come out all right for you +now,--you've come up out of the soot and ashes just as Cinderella did, +only _your_ soot was engine soot, and you've come up at the top of +everything, and I _do_ say, _now_, that you are a great sight more swell +in your looks and your manners and in _yourself_ than Kate Van der Berg, +I don't care _what_ soot and ashes you came up from." + +The queer expression on Hope's face had by this time deepened into +something that looked like a wondering smile, a smile that seemed to +say, "How perfectly astonishing this girl is!" + +Dorothea saw the smile, and with a sudden acuteness that now and then +came to her, hit upon its meaning, and cried out,-- + +"Oh, I see what you think,--I surprise you all round, I know, I'm so +outspoken and blunt. Jimmy says I'm beastly blunt sometimes. I suppose +in the first place that you expected me to have laid things up against +you as you did against me; but, goody gracious, I never remember a +quarter of what I say nor a quarter of what anybody else says after a +while, and I'm always ready to make up, to jump over anything that's +disagreeable if I'm met half-way; and you,--well, you've met me more +than half-way in this business about Raymond Armitage, and if I _had_ +laid up anything you'd ever said,--and I do remember," laughing, "you +said I was the most ignorant girl you'd ever seen,--I couldn't be mad +with you for it now. No, I couldn't be anything but friendly to +you,--and it's such jolly fun, too, the whole story,--my not remembering +you, and the way it's turned out, and all; but look here, what's that +you said about Kate Van der Berg,--that she might have been more +sociable if it hadn't been for you? Did you tell her--I suppose you +did--of our first meeting in the Brookside station, and the scrimmage we +had, and that I hurt your feelings so dreadfully?" + +"No; but after you had been here for a little time, Kate noticed that +I--was rather stiff toward you." + +"Yes, stiff and offish, but dreadfully polite, and in spite of it--the +offishness, I mean--I liked you. _Isn't_ it funny? But go on--Kate +noticed that you were stiff toward me--" + +"And she asked me what it was that I disliked in you, and I told her +just this,--that you and I had met long ago when we were little girls, +and that you had said something then that had hurt me that I had never +forgotten, but that you had forgotten it and forgotten _me_. That was +all. I thought it was better to tell her what I did than to try to turn +the subject, because if I tried to do that she would have thought the +matter worse than it was." + +"Well, I suppose she told the girls what you said, and made much of it, +and--" + +"She told no one. I asked her at once not to speak of it, and she +promised that she wouldn't, and I know that she didn't." + +"But you--I don't see, when you have talked with her, as you must have +done, you are so intimate with her--about your mayflower business and +everything--how you could help mentioning our scrimmage." + +"I never have talked to her about the mayflower business, as you call +it." + +"Do you mean to say that she doesn't know that you sold those flowers to +buy a violin?" + +Hope colored painfully as she answered,-- + +"I--I have never said anything about those things to her." + +"You haven't? Well, now look here; you've been so nice keeping _my_ +secret, I'll keep yours. The girls, not one of them, shall hear a word +from me of that poor time and the flower-selling,--not one word; you can +trust me." + +"Oh, no, no, Dorothea! You think I am ashamed of that 'poor time,' as +you describe it,--that dear time, it ought to be described. No, no, it +isn't because I was ashamed of that time that I haven't spoken to Kate +or to the others, it is because I'm always shy of talking about myself, +always, and I was more than ever shy of talking to girls about a way of +living and doing that they knew nothing of, and that they would wonder +at as I told of it,--wonder at and stare at me in their wonder, because +they knew nothing only of one kind of living and doing,--_their_ kind. +It would have been like what it is sometimes for a musician to play to +an audience a new composition that is full of strange chords and +harmonies. The audience listens and wonders but doesn't understand, and +so is not in sympathy with the player, and the player is made to feel +awkward and uncomfortable, and as if he had made a mistake in producing +the composition at that time. That was what I knew that I should feel if +I talked to these girls. Don't you see what I mean?" + +"Yes, I see, now that you've put it before me in this way, but I +shouldn't, if you hadn't laid it out as you have; and--well, I suppose I +might have felt just as you did in your place, only I shouldn't have +known how to explain it to myself as you have." + +"And then after _you_ came," went on Hope, more as if she were relieving +her own mind than addressing any particular person, "after that, it +would have been more difficult to talk of that old time--" + +"Because you thought I'd stowed away in my mind that old squabble just +as you had, and would jump on you, and say a lot of disagreeable things. +Well, I might have burst out with a lot of remarks and exclamations and +questions, and stared at you as you say you expected to be stared at, +but I shouldn't have had any feeling of spite against you, any more than +I have now this minute, for, as I tell you, I'd never laid up anything, +but you're so sensitive, you wouldn't have liked my remarks and +questions before all the girls, I dare say." + +"And I dare say this sensitiveness has made me cowardly. I thought one +day last term when Kate Van der Berg was talking with Anna Fleming about +people who had risen in the world by their own ability, and yet didn't +like to refer to their early days of poverty and struggle, that I must +be a great coward, and I was very unhappy over it for a while; but I +know now that my cowardice isn't shame at all, but just that shrinking +from talking to those who couldn't fully understand what I was talking +of, and who would stare at me with wonder and curiosity _because_ they +didn't understand. But now, now, I'm not going to shrink any longer, I'm +not going to have anybody ever think for a single moment that I'm +ashamed of that dear time when we lived in that tiny cottage at +Riverview, where I first began to learn to play on the little violin I +earned myself, and where my dear, dear father made the little model of +the engine that made his fortune." + +"Oh, do you mean, then, that you are going to tell Kate now, right +away,--Kate and the other girls,--what you've told me?" asked Dorothea +eagerly, and with her usual blunt inquisitiveness. + +"Well, I don't know that I shall rush 'right away' now, this minute, and +tell them; it isn't exactly a matter of such importance as that," +answered Hope, with a laugh that was half amused and half annoyed. "I +think I shall dress for dinner first, and I _may_ sleep on it." + +"Oh, now you're snubbing my inquisitiveness, I know! But, Hope, see here +a minute. I--I want to say that I'm not going to talk to the girls about +you. Of course, you expected that I would--would go on over that +Brookside station squabble, and I might, if things hadn't turned out as +they have--if I--I didn't feel as I do--as if I knew you better now, and +knew how you felt about being made a show of." + +Hope winced a little at this presumption on Dorothea's part that there +was still a secret between them,--a secret dependent on Dorothea's own +good will,--and she made haste to say,-- + +"It is very nice of you, I'm sure, Dorothea, to want to consult my +feelings, but it isn't necessary for you to think that you must keep +silent on my account." + +Dorothea looked a little disappointed, and Hope felt a twinge of +self-reproach as she glanced at her; but it was impossible for her to +accept the attitude of indebtedness that seemed about to be thrust upon +her. As she turned to leave the room, however, she said more warmly than +she had yet spoken,-- + +"I think you have been very good-natured, Dorothea, to have taken +everything that I have said so nicely--and--and"--smiling a little--"you +are better-natured than I am, because you don't lay things up as I do." + +"No, I don't lay up grudges, but I can lay up a little gratitude, I +hope, and that helps me to be good-natured sometimes." + +As she said this, Dorothea showed all her milk-white teeth in a frank +laugh; and Hope, regarding her, thought to herself: "She _is_ better +natured than I am about some things, and she _can_ be generous." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +"And she didn't make any objection to going with you?" + +"No, not the slightest. Indeed she seemed glad to go with us." + +Hope flushed a little, as she said this in answer to Kate's question +that night, as the two sat talking over the day and its exciting events. +The flush was the result of that pang of tender conscience that springs +up in revolt at even a momentary want of candor. + +"And Ray Armitage,--how did he take it?" + +"Oh, quite easily!" + +"And you didn't have--either you or Mrs. Sibley--to argue with her; you +didn't have to tell her that the only thing to save her from the +consequences of her silliness was to go home in a proper way under +proper chaperonage?" + +"No, we didn't have to knock her down with that bludgeon," laughed Hope. + +"Well, I suppose she had begun to _think_! I'm glad she had so much +sense. Schuyler made all manner of fun of me after you and Mrs. Sibley +left. He said, in the first place, that he didn't believe you'd be in +time to see them before they entered the theatre, and if you did, you +wouldn't stop them." + +"Mrs. Sibley was of the same opinion exactly." + +"How clever it was of her to do the next thing,--take you into the +theatre, and then manage the whole thing so perfectly!" + +"Yes, wasn't it clever, and so kind." + +"When you drove up did you see any of the teachers?" + +"We met Miss Stephens as we entered the hall." + +"You don't mean it? What did she say at seeing Dorothea with you?" + +"Mrs. Sibley came in with us for a moment, and Miss Stephens looked at +the three of us with some surprise, and then said,-- + +"'I thought Dorothea was coming home long ago under the escort of Bessie +Armitage and her brother.' + +"At that, Mrs. Sibley answered at once, 'We met Dorothea, and took her +with _us_.' + +"Oh! and when Miss Stephens saw Mrs. Sibley and heard her say that, she +felt that everything was all right, I suppose. She ought to have been +sure of that before, and then you wouldn't have lost your afternoon's +skating, and had such a lot of bother." + +"Oh, well, it's all turned out satisfactorily." + +Hope couldn't tell Kate _how_ satisfactorily,--couldn't tell her that if +Miss Stephens _had_ been sure that everything was right at an earlier +hour and Dorothea had thus been hindered from doing what she did, she +would also have missed that mortifying experience, that might do more to +shake her unlimited confidence in her own estimates and opinions than +anything else could possibly do. + +No, Hope couldn't tell Kate of this, for her lips were sealed. But if +she could not express herself freely in this direction, she could, and +she would, say something to show Dorothea as she had just seen her,--at +her best; and so she held forth, with what amplitude was possible within +the limit of her promise, on the girl's surprising gentleness and +reasonableness. Dorothea had really behaved exceedingly well, she told +Kate, and was not only appreciative of what had been done for her, but +of the good intention that prompted the doing. And here Hope could not +help repeating this characteristic speech of Dorothea's,-- + +"I don't half believe, and I never have, that such dreadful consequences +would come of going against Miss Marr's rules; but _you_ do, I see, and +so it was awfully kind of you to take all this trouble to pull me out of +the danger you thought I was in." + +"She said that? Well, I must say, she's got more sense and feeling than +I gave her credit for; and to think of her flying at _me_ as she did. +_My_ intentions were as good as yours." + +"Yes, but you gave her advice, and she hates advice. What seemed to +impress her was our--Mrs. Sibley and my--taking the trouble to leave the +Park, and actually going in to the matinée and waiting to do her the +service we did." + +"Well, I hope her gratitude and appreciation will last long enough to +keep her out of any more silly scrapes for a while." + +"I don't believe she will want to get into any more such scrapes. I--I +think she feels sort of ashamed of what she has done. And, Kate, +couldn't we--wouldn't it be a good plan if we tried to help her to keep +out of such things?" + +"Help her--how?" + +"Well, I--I feel as if I may have been too hard on her. I have cherished +my feeling of dislike constantly, and have done her an injury all +round--with you, and the other girls by the way I have held off from +her. She feels that the girls don't like her, and thinks that _you_ were +the first to dislike her, and that it was you who had influenced me. I +told her what a mistake that was,--that it was _I_ who had influenced +you--by my manner at the start; and then, then I recalled myself to her +mind. I told her what she had forgotten,--that I was the little girl she +had met five years ago,--the little girl she had had a quarrel with at +the Brookside station, and that I had always remembered what she had +said to me there,--always remembered and resented it, and that it was +that that had affected my manner towards her, had made me stiff and +offish to her." + +"Oh, Hope, do, do tell me about that time! I've never liked before to +urge you to tell me the whole story, but I wish now that you _would_ +tell me." + +There was a moment of hesitation,--just a moment; then with a little +rising of color, a little tremulousness of voice, Hope said,-- + +"Kate, do you remember that piece of music that I brought back from +Boston,--that 'Idyl of the Spring' that Mr. Kolb had composed for me to +play at our coming May festival?" + +"That piece dedicated to you, and so oddly named 'Mayflowers: Ten Cents +a Bunch'?" + +"Yes, and do you remember, when you asked me how he came to give it such +an odd title, that I told you he had known a little girl once that he +was very fond of, who had sold mayflowers at ten cents a bunch?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, _I_ was that little girl." + +"You! you! When--where--how did you come to sell them?" + +"I'll tell you;" and then, for the second time that night, Hope told her +story of that 'poor time,' as Dorothea had blunderingly called it,--that +dear time, as she herself rightly and happily called it,--when she lived +with her father and mother in the little cottage at Riverview, and +carried out her joyous plan of earning that wonderful twenty-five +dollars to buy the good little fiddle. As she told the story now, as she +went back to the details of her plan, with Kate for audience, and +described the little fiddle in the shop-window as she had first seen it, +and the sinking of her heart as she was told the price, and then the +happy relief of her inspiration when she heard the boy on the street +call out "Ten cents a bunch," she began to lose her shyness in the +warmth of her recollection,--to lose her shyness and to forget her +shrinking from a possible auditor who _wouldn't understand_. Wouldn't +understand! As she neared the end, as she came to her meeting with +Dorothea in the Brookside station, and said, "It was there that I first +met Dorothea," Kate burst in,-- + +"And she insulted you, she insulted you in her ignorance and stupidity! +I can see it all,--all. She couldn't comprehend such a dear darling +brave little thing as you. She took you for an ordinary little street +huckster,--the horrid thick-headed, thick-skinned creature,--and sneered +and jeered at you, and very likely called you names, or did other +dreadful things." + +"Oh, no, no, Kate! she wasn't malicious. She didn't _mean_ to hurt me; +but she was ignorant of any way of living but her own way, and she +thought that anybody who sold things on the street must be one of those +very poor people who lived anyhow, like the people at the North End, and +so she asked me questions,--questions that hurt me, because they showed +that she thought I was so different from herself. No, it wasn't malice +that made her ask these questions, it was simply ignorance; and I--I +told her so at last." + +"You did? Hurrah! Tell me--tell me exactly what you said," cried Kate, +laughing delightedly. + +"Well, I said exactly that,--that she must be very ignorant or she would +know more about the difference in people, that she would _see_ the +difference; and then I told her that my father was an engineer on the +road, and that we had a nice home and plenty to eat and to drink and to +wear, and books and magazines and papers, and then she asked me what I +sold flowers on the street for, if we were as nice as that, and I told +her that I wanted to buy something for myself that my father couldn't +afford to buy for me; and then I remember"--and a little dimpling smile +came over Hope's face here--"I asked her, 'Don't you ever want anything +that your father doesn't feel as if he could buy for you just when you +want him to?' and she was so irritated at my accusing her of being +ignorant that she answered, 'Well, if I did, I shouldn't be let to go +out on the street and peddle flowers to earn the money.'" + +"The hateful, impudent--" + +"But wait, wait! I was as bad as she was here, because I answered back, +'And _I_ shouldn't be _allowed_ to say "let to go," like ignorant North +Enders.'" + +"Oh, Hope, Hope, this is beautiful, beautiful!" and Kate began to dance +wildly around the room, thrumming an imaginary pair of castanets as she +danced. + +"I don't think it was very beautiful," protested Hope; "but you can see +by this speech that I was as bad as she after I got my temper up." + +"Bad! it was beautiful, beautiful,--just the best thing I ever heard. +Bad! well, I should say not." + +"But _she_ didn't _mean_ to hurt me, to begin with, and I--I _meant_ to +hurt her in everything I said. Remember that." + +"You meant to enlighten her, and I fancy you did, and you certainly got +the better of her." + +"Yes, and her father told her so, she said, when I recalled the +'scrimmage,' as she termed it, to her mind; and yet in spite of that she +didn't lay up anything against me. She had forgotten my face, and was +fast forgetting the whole affair when I brought things back to her. She +had never had a bit of grudge against me, and she only laughed when she +recalled some of the things I had said. I'm glad now to tell you the +whole story, for you must see by what I have told you, that she isn't in +the least malicious, and you must see, too, that she is really much +better natured than we have thought her, not to have laid up anything; +yes, much better natured than I am." + +"Well, she was the attacking party. You were only on the defensive, and +you knocked her down with the truth. Of course you would remember the +kind of things she said to you more than she would remember your +replies; and then you are much finer and more sensitive than she, +anyway. But I will allow that she has turned out better in the end than +I would have expected. That telling you what her father said wasn't bad. +But, Hope dear, sensitive as you are, how could you recall yourself and +that old time to her?" + +"I told you how I came to do it; it was because she had got it into her +head that it was you who had made me stiff and offish, and I had to tell +her then just how it was." + +"Oh, yes; and you sacrificed yourself in that way for me. You hated to +tell her, Hope, I know you did,--you are such a sensitive, shrinking +creature." + +"Yes, that is just my fault,--a cowardly shrinking, that makes me keep +silent sometimes when I ought to speak. Oh, Kate, Kate, I dare say now, +this minute, you are thinking how strange it is,--my not having spoken +to you before, of all this old life of mine, when I lived so differently +from the way I live now. I dare say you think I--I was ashamed to talk +about it, because my father was a working-man, a poor locomotive +engineer. Oh, I shall never forget how I felt that day last term when +you talked about the people who kept still and never spoke of their +humble beginnings; and when you brought up the Stephensons and said, 'Do +you think _they'd_ keep still, because they were ashamed of their humble +beginnings, after they had worked out of them and become prosperous?' +and then when you went on and declared how you hated the cowardice of +those people who didn't dare to speak of these things, and what _you_ +would do under such circumstances, I felt that _I_ was the most +miserable coward, and that you would despise me forever if you knew what +I was keeping to myself. But I knew--I knew all the time, that I wasn't +ashamed of _anything_,--of the little home without a servant or of the +engine-cab and my dear, dear father. I knew I was proud of him and what +he had done, and yet I knew that I couldn't bear to think of telling all +these things to girls who had never known what it was to live as we had. +I felt that you wouldn't, that you couldn't understand; that you would +take it all something as Dorothea had, years ago, though you wouldn't +_say_ a word of how you felt, but you would look it. You would stare at +me with wonder and curiosity,--that you--you--" + +"Oh, Hope, Hope, my dear, I do understand it all--all--everything. I +_know_ that you couldn't be ashamed of that old time, and I understand +just how you felt about us, how and why you shrank from telling us. One +such experience as that with Dorothea was enough to make you shrink from +all girls like us. You were a dear delicate little child, and you had +never known that there was such ignorance as Dorothea's, and that you +_could_ be so misunderstood, and it has made a great bruise on you that +you have never got over. Oh, Hope, this is all Dorothea's doing. She +_meant_ no harm, but she has done the harm nevertheless, for she has +taken away your belief and trust and confidence. To think that you +couldn't trust _me_, after all you've known of me, to understand just a +difference in the way of living! Why, the life you've just told me +of--that little home where you were so close to each other, where you +lived so near to all your father's hopes and plans--seems to me +beautiful, something to be envied. And to think _you_ should think I +shouldn't understand, shouldn't appreciate it--should look at it +with--with such eyes as--as Dorothea's! Oh, Hope! Hope! doesn't this +prove what harm Dorothea has done you?" + +"And if it does, Kate, and I don't deny that it does, I say again that +she didn't _mean_ to do any harm,--I see that now as clear as can +be,--and that ought to make all the difference; and then when I think +what _I_ have done--" + +"You! what have you done but to forgive her ninety-and-nine times?" + +"Oh, no, no, Kate, I've--I've dis--no, I've _hated_ her all these years, +and this hate has affected my manner towards her so much that it +influenced you and all the other girls against her; and as she has been +harmed through that, I don't see but that I ought to cry quits." + +"Yes, five months against five years. Do you call that quits?" + +"Yes, and maybe more than quits, because I've made enemies for her, or +at least influenced people against her, while she had no feeling to +prejudice people against me. She has liked me all this time that we've +been here at school together, spite of my being so stiff; and when she +came to find out who I was,--the little girl who got the best of her in +that childish quarrel, she hadn't the least ill will towards me. Quits? +Yes, I say it's more than quits for me. Oh, Kate, I can't tell you +everything she said to me just now, but she did show herself generous +and grateful; and even when I confessed that it was I who had prejudiced +you, even then she had no ill will. Yes, yes, I agree that I was harmed +and hurt by what happened five years ago; but, Kate, I've been thinking +very fast and very hard for the last hour or two, and I've come to +believe that if I had known nothing of Dorothea before she came here--if +I and you had started without any prejudice, things might have been +different, we might have been easier and pleasanter with her, and that +might have brought her out in pleasanter ways. But instead of that, we +picked up every little thing, and, well, she _was_ cold-shouldered +awfully by all of us at times; and we can't tell--we don't know what we +might have done, if we had tried to make her _one of us_ more. We might +have kept her from doing such foolish reckless things as she has; and +so, as I think that I am to blame for the beginning of this prejudice +that has hurt her, I think that I may have been the means of doing her +greater harm than she has ever done me; for think, _think_, Kate, _what_ +harm it must be to a girl to have Raymond Armitage able to boast about +her accepting his attentions, and for your brother and Peter Van Loon, +and nobody knows who else, getting such a cheap opinion of her through +these things." + +"Yes, I see. But what do you propose to do about it?" + +"Well, I think--I ought to do or try to do what I can now, to help her +_not_ to hurt herself any more by these pranks." + +"How are you going to work to make her over like this?" + +"I--I don't expect to make her over, Kate, but I think she may get a +different idea of having a good time if we are very friendly to her, and +bring her into _our_ good times, and she sees that the girls, and the +boys too, that she really wants to associate with, really and truly look +down on these pranks that she has thought were only 'good fun,'--look +down upon them and think them vulgar." + +"And you want me to help in this missionary work?" asked Kate, half +laughing. + +"Yes, I--I want you to be nice to her, Kate. When you meet her to-morrow +morning, now, I want you to give her something more than a stiff nod; I +want you to smile a little,--not too much, or she'll think I've been +talking to you about her." + +"A little, but not too much," laughed Kate, "Oh, Hope, Hope, you dear +delightful darling you, this is too funny, too funny!" + +"But won't you try--won't you try, Kate, to--" + +"To smile upon her a little but not too much? Yes, yes, I'll try, I'll +try," still laughing. + +"And, Kate dear," suddenly enfolding the laughing girl in a close +embrace, "will you try to do something else for me,--will you try to +forgive me for--for being so stupid as not to trust you to--to +understand? Will you try to forgive me, and to--to love me as well--as +you did before?" + +"Try to forgive you--to love you as well as I did before," cried Kate, +pressing Hope's cheek against her own. "I've nothing to forgive; and as +for loving you as well as I did before, I love you better, if that were +possible, for before, though I thought I knew you pretty well, I didn't +know how more than generous you could be. Love you? I love and admire +you beyond anybody; I--" + +"Girls, girls, it's after talking hours," whispered Anna Fleming, as she +pushed open the door. "I've just come from your room, Hope, where I've +been with Myra, and the lights are all being turned down in the halls, +and so we _must_ say good-night and scatter to bed." + +"Oh, yes, I ought not to have stayed so long," whispered back Hope, +apologetically. "Good-night!" and "Good-night!" "Good-night" responded +Anna and Kate in chorus; but Kate managed to add slyly in a lower +whisper to Hope,-- + +"I'll smile upon her a little, but not too much, Hope dear." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +The next morning was rather dreaded by Dorothea. She had really suffered +from a headache the night before, and with that excuse had been allowed +to keep her room, and have a light supper sent up to her. + +"But I wish I hadn't--I wish to goodness I'd gone down last night!" she +said petulantly to herself, as she faced the morning's sunshine. She had +full faith in Hope and her promise, and was therefore quite secure that +not one of the girls would know of that mortifying little episode at the +end of yesterday's escapade; and this was the most that she cared for. +But yet, in spite of this, she had a certain very uncomfortable feeling +about meeting Kate Van der Berg and "that set," as she called the little +group of girls of which Kate seemed the natural head and leader. A very +uncomfortable feeling; for though that mortifying episode was a safe +secret, the rest of the escapade was the common property of Kate and +Hope; "and of course," argued Dorothea, "Kate Van der Berg has told all +_she_ knows to the others, and they'll just take her little pattern of +things, and set up and look at me, and think how the naughty girl was +taken care of by Mrs. Sibley and Hope. Oh, oh, if it hadn't been for +that horrid Raymond Armitage's being so mean and selfish at the +end,--well, I've found _him_ out!--I shouldn't have _had_ to accept +Hope's offer,--though it was awfully good of her, and I was awfully glad +to accept, as things turned out. But if things _hadn't_ turned out as +they did,--if Ray Armitage had behaved himself, I _needn't_ have +accepted, and then if I had come back in the cars, as I went, I should +have taken the risks and they'd have known that I was independent. But +now, though thank Heaven they won't know _why_ I accepted Hope's offer, +they'll know that I _did_ accept it, and so they'll stare at me as the +naughty little girl who _had to_ give in!" + +It will be seen by this argument that Dorothea's state of mind was not +yet what it should be. It will also be seen that, harboring such a state +of mind, it was quite natural that she should find herself decidedly +uncomfortable at the prospect of facing "that set." But it had to be +done, however. There was no use in putting it off; and with a final +glance at the mirror, a final pat to her smooth shining hair, Dorothea +started off toward the dining-room. As she gained the lower hall, she +heard a mingled sound of various voices issuing from the room, and +ruefully thought: "Late as it is, they're all there! _Why_ didn't I get +up earlier? I might have known they'd be late Sunday morning. Now all +eyes will be glaring at me when I open the door!" + +But as she opened the door, beyond one or two of the girls looking up +with a preoccupied air and a hasty good-morning, no notice was taken of +her. "That set" and indeed the whole assembled company were in the very +thick of an animated talk concerning the origin and observance of Saint +Valentine's Day. + +"Of course we have kept up the Valentine fun year after year, because +there's such a lot of children in our family. I don't suppose that grown +up people nowadays would make anything of it, if it wasn't for +children,--except maybe vulgar people who use those horrid comic +valentines to play a vulgar joke on some one," Kate Van der Berg was +saying just as Dorothea stepped over the threshold. A little nod and +smile was given to Dorothea the next moment,--a little easy nod and that +happy half-smile that was "not too much," recommended by Hope. + +"It says in Chambers' Book of Days," here spoke up Anna Fleming, +"that Valentine's Day is now almost everywhere a much degenerated +festival, but that it was once a very general custom with +everybody--grown-up-people as well as children--to send valentines to +each other; and it says, too, that the origin of this custom is a +subject of some obscurity. Those are the very words; I read them last +night to Myra, didn't I, Myra?" + +"Yes; and you read too that the Saint Valentine who was a priest of Rome +and martyred in the third century seems to have nothing to do with the +matter beyond the accident of his day being used for the festival +purpose." + +"Then, if that is true, the whole thing is a sentimental muddle of +nonsense, starting off with the mating of birds for origin, as some of +the old writers seem to believe," cried Kate, in a disgusted tone. "But +_I'm_ not going to believe any such thing. I'm going to believe what +Bishop Wheatley says about it. He says that Saint Valentine was a man so +famous for his love and charity that the custom of choosing valentines +upon his festival took its rise from a desire to commemorate that very +love and charity by choosing a special friend on his day,--I suppose his +birthday,--which was, as nearly as can be reckoned, the fourteenth of +February. Now, I shall stick to this explanation of the day. Bishop +Wheatley's authority is good enough for me, and I shall choose _my_ +valentine on his lines this year as I did last." + +"Oh, _who_ was your Valentine last year?" cried little Lily Chester, +with eager curiosity. + +"My aunt Katrine,--a great-aunt whom I had never seen until last year, +when she came over from Germany to visit us." + +"An old aunt,--how funny!" exclaimed Lily. + +"Why funny?" + +"Why? Because--because whoever heard of anybody choosing an old aunt for +a valentine?" + +"Whom do _you_ choose, Lily?" + +"I? Oh, _I_ choose children I know,--boys, always." + +An outburst of laughter greeted this declaration; and in the midst of it +Kate said gayly, with a little confidential nod to Dorothea, "It's +currants and raisins again, Dorothea." + +The gay tone of good-fellowship, the confidential nod and smile took +Dorothea so by surprise that for the moment her ready speech failed her. +What she had _thought_, what she might have _said_ if she had not thus +been surprised into silence, was something in her usual truculent vein, +with a very decided declaration of sympathy with Lily's choice. But +surprised and silent for the moment, she was all ready to agree with +Myra Donaldson, who followed Kate's remark with a laughing confession +that she too had chosen "boys always,"--that she thought that was the +customary, the proper valentine way. And agreeing with Myra in an +emphatic "It _is_--it always _has_ been the proper valentine way," +Dorothea was again surprised at the gentleness of Kate's tone as she +disagreed,--as she said: + +"Oh, no, no, Dorothea; the good old Bishop Wheatley didn't mean that it +was _nothing_ but a sweethearting custom, for there is another record +that says distinctly that the early Church looked upon that custom as +one of the pagan practices, and observed the day as a real Saint's Day, +when one chose a particular patron saint for the year and called him, or +her, my 'valentine.' And it was in that way that I chose dear old Aunt +Katrine for _my_ valentine last year." + +"And _I_ chose my dear Mr. Kolb, my first music-teacher," said Hope, +looking up brightly. "He taught me to play on that little violin I was +telling you about," glancing at Kate with a significant smile. Dorothea +saw the smile, and instantly said to herself: "She's told her,--she's +told her all that Mayflower and fiddle story, every word of it, I can +see by their looks. I wonder if she's told the other girls?" + +But what was that that Myra Donaldson was referring to?--something that +had evidently brought up all this talk. Dorothea had lost a sentence or +two in her momentary preoccupation over Hope and Kate; but now catching +the words "It's to be a valentine party as usual," she asked eagerly,-- + +"Whose party is it,--who gives it?" + +"Bessie Armitage. The fourteenth of February is her birthday, and she +always has a party on that day, or on the evening of the day. She hasn't +sent her invitations out yet, but she will next week. I went to her last +year's party, and it was such a pretty party, wasn't it?" looking at +Kate and Hope, who at once gave cordial agreement that it was a _very_ +pretty party. "But you'll see for yourself this year, Dorothea," Myra +went on, "for I suppose Miss Marr will let us go, as she did last +winter, though it _is_ stretching a point to go to any party outside; +but Bessie has been here so long--she was only ten when she first came +to Miss Marr's--that she has exceptions made in her favor; and then +these birthday-parties of hers are always early parties, and that makes +a great difference." + +A party,--a Valentine party at Bessie Armitage's! Dorothea couldn't, for +the life of her, keep the hot angry color from rushing to her face as +she heard the name of Armitage; and her first thought was: "Catch me +going to a party at _his_ home, where I've got to be polite to _him_!" +At the next thought,--the thought that her refusal to go would be +thoroughly understood by Raymond himself, would be taken by him as a +direct cut and snub, her spirits rose, and a little triumphant smile +began to curl her lips. + +"Look at Dorothea! She's planning _some_ mischief," laughed Myra, who +had noted the sudden change in her opposite neighbor's face. All eyes +were now indeed turned upon Dorothea. + +"Yes, you look like yourself again," spoke up Anna Fleming, "you were +quite pale when you first came in. Has your headache all gone?" + +"My headache?" + +"Yes; they said you didn't come down to dinner last night on account of +a headache." + +"Oh yes, I forgot to ask you how you were, we were so full of Bessie's +Valentine party when you came in," said Myra, apologetically. Then, +politely: "You had to leave the Park yesterday almost directly after you +arrived there, some one said. 'Twas too bad. I didn't see you at all +after we entered, for I went at once over on the other side of the pond +with Anna and some of her friends. What a scattered party we were,--Anna +and I on one side and Kate and Hope on the other, and the rest I don't +know where: and how we straggled home,--Anna's friends in charge of us, +while Miss Thompson had another party and Miss Stephens still another." + +Dorothea forgot her embarrassment, forgot everything, as she listened to +these words, but the amazing fact that Kate had told neither Anna nor +Myra the story of yesterday's escapade,--and Anna was Kate's room-mate! +Could it be that Kate Van der Berg,--who had always been so ready to +find fault, to say disagreeable things, to put her--Dorothea--in the +wrong,--could it be possible that of her own will, her own thought, she +had refrained from repeating what she knew? And if she had, what was her +motive? Dorothea asked herself suspiciously, for she could not +understand how one so outspoken and lavish in her fault-finding could +suddenly put such restraint upon her tongue; for she could not +comprehend, this quick-tempered yet obtuse Dorothea, that a nature which +might be lavish of fault-finding and criticism upon certain occasions, +upon certain other occasions, from a nice sense of honor and generosity, +might also be able to keep a golden silence. Yet this was just what Kate +Van der Berg had done. She had had the impulse at the first to rush at +once to Myra, to whom she had already told so much, with this amazing +story of Dorothea's latest exploit. But a second impulse came to her,--a +kindly impulse of restraint, wherein she said to herself: "No, I won't +prejudice Myra any further, perhaps I've prejudiced her too much already +by what I've told her; at any rate, I'll keep silent about this affair." +How more than glad she was that she had thus kept silent when Myra's +innocently betrayed ignorance brought that look of surprise and relief +into Dorothea's face. And Dorothea, presently turning her gaze from Myra +to Kate herself, caught on the latter's face something of the expression +of this gladness, and experienced a fresh surprise thereat; but in this +surprise was mixed a little feeling of self-gratulation that matters +were turning out so easily and happily; and then her volatile spirits +began to rebound again, and her thoughts to run in this way,-- + +"How silly I've been to get so nervous and fidgety; but it's all owing +to Ray Armitage's behavior. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of +anyhow, and I dare say in her secret heart Kate Van der Berg _thinks_ I +haven't. Any way everything is blowing over beautifully now, and I'm not +going to bother about things another bit, not even about that horrid Ray +Armitage,--though I'll manage to get even with him yet!" And so solacing +herself, in this fashion, Dorothea's spirits continued to rise higher +and higher, and by Monday she was in her usual mental as well as bodily +condition, her headache and her heartache--if the latter term could be +employed to describe her pangs of sore mortification--no longer +conquering her. Indeed, so jubilant was the reactionary state of mind +following upon her depression, that she at once set about readjusting +various little plans to suit her present mood. One of these plans was +the determination she had made to refuse Bessie Armitage's invitation to +the birthday valentine party. It would only make the girls talk for her +to stay away, she concluded. It would be a great deal better plan to go +to the party, and show Ray Armitage that he wasn't of enough consequence +to keep her away. And when there she could manage to snub him +beautifully in a dozen different ways, though it _was_ in his own +house,--oh yes, in a dozen different ways, and be outwardly very polite +too; yes, indeed, _she_ knew how to do it! + +In thoughts and plans like these, the days flew swiftly by. "Next week," +Myra had informed them, the invitations were to be sent out, and she had +had _her_ information from Bessie herself, who was at that time confined +at home with a severe cold. Next week, and then another week would bring +the anticipated fourteenth. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +"But there must be some mistake, some accident, that has delayed yours, +for all the other girls received theirs yesterday," exclaimed Myra +Donaldson in surprise, when Dorothea mentioned the fact to her on +Tuesday of that following week, that she had not received her +invitation. "Yes, there must be some accident," reiterated Myra; "it no +doubt slipped out in some way, and you'll get it to-morrow." But +"to-morrow" came and went and Dorothea failed to receive the invitation. + +"Of course there must be some mistake," Anna Fleming also declared, when +_she_ was told of the fact; and then one and another echoed the same +declaration as they heard of the circumstance. Of course there was some +mistake! By Thursday, certainly, everybody thought the "mistake" would +be discovered and rectified; but Thursday too came and went, and Friday +passed by without the desired result. On Saturday morning Dorothea said +to Hope,-- + +"I--I wish you would do something for me, Hope." + +"Yes, certainly I will if I can," returned Hope. + +"Well, it's just this: I heard that you were going out to drive with +Kate Van der Berg this afternoon, and I wondered if you could--if you +_would_ call and see Bessie Armitage,--see how she is, you know--and +then--and then you might ask her--you might tell her about the +invitation,--that I hadn't received it. Of course _I_ don't want to +speak to her about it, but somebody else might, and she would want to be +told--she'd feel horribly--_I_ should, I'm sure, in her place if I +_wasn't_ told--if the mistake _wasn't_ rectified; and so I thought if +_you_ would just speak of it--" + +"Yes, indeed I will. I'm glad you asked me. I wonder I hadn't thought of +it myself, but I'll go round directly the first thing this afternoon," +responded Hope, cordially. + + * * * * * + +"Some mistake?" repeated Bessie Armitage, in a queer, hesitating, +questioning way, as Hope sat before her, waiting for the explanation +that she had expected would at once make everything right for Dorothea. + +"Yes, for she hasn't received her invitation at all, you understand," +answered Hope, thinking that Bessie had _not_ understood. + +"Yes?" began Bessie, and then stopped, her eyes cast down and the color +coming into her cheeks, while Hope and Kate glanced at each other in +embarrassed silence. What _did_ it mean? What _could_ be the matter? +They were wildly conjecturing all sorts of strange impossible things, +and Hope was just determining to break the dreadful silence with these +very questions, when Bessie looked up and said: + +"I'll tell you--I _must_ tell you; there wasn't any mistake--I knew that +Dorothea had no invitation." + +"Oh!" breathed Hope, faintly; and "Oh!" echoed Kate, in the same tone. + +"No, it was meant that she shouldn't have one; but I had written one, +and I was going to send it if--if my mother hadn't stopped it." + +"Your mother?" + +"Yes, my mother. I had already sent out quite a number of invitations, +and had just got another lot ready, when my mother came in and saw +Dorothea's name on one of the notes. The moment she saw it, she forbade +me to send it. Mother was at the New Year's party,--perhaps you +remember,--just at the last of it, when Dorothea was going on so, and +she took a great dislike to Dorothea then. Dorothea _was_ noisy, you +know. Mother thought she was very loud and underbred. But that--that +wasn't all. A little while ago some acquaintances of ours from +Philadelphia--the Cargills--were staying at the Waldorf. The next day +after they arrived, they went to a matinée at the Madison Square +Theatre, and saw there my brother Raymond, and with him a young girl. Of +course they thought the girl was some member of our family; and when he +went to speak to them, they asked him if that was another sister he had +with him, and he told them no; that it was only an acquaintance,--a girl +who was in a boarding-school in the city. Mrs. Cargill thought this was +very odd; and as Raymond was so young, she spoke about it to mamma. +Mamma was astonished, and she went straight to Raymond and asked him +what it all meant, and who the girl was; and Raymond had to tell the +whole story then,--that it was Dorothea Dering, from Miss Marr's school; +that he had invited her to go to the matinée with him, and that she had +accepted the invitation; and then that he had met her at the +skating-pond in Central Park, and had gone from there with her to the +theatre, unsuspected by any of the teachers. The minute mamma heard the +name, 'Dorothea Dering,' she recalled the New Year's party and +Dorothea's behavior there; and so, and so, don't you see, when she saw +Dorothea's name on the envelope, the other day, she thought of all these +things, and--and forbade my sending the note. I tried my best to get her +to let me send it; I told her what Anna Fleming had said to me,--that +Dorothea came from one of the first families of Massachusetts; that her +father was the Hon. James Dering, and all her people were in the very +best society. But the more I tried to talk Dorothea up in this way, the +more decided mamma grew; until, at last, she said that there had been +too much of this falling back upon one's family nowadays; that bad, loud +manners and rude behavior were not to be overlooked and excused on that +account, and that she didn't propose to overlook Dorothea's by having +her invited to her house. And when I said I thought that Raymond was as +much to blame, in _asking_ her to go to the matinée, as Dorothea was in +going, mamma said that that didn't help her case at all; that Raymond's +invitation was only the result of her own loud, free ways; that he would +never have thought of inviting her like that, if she had been a +different kind of girl. Oh,"--with a quick look at Hope and +Kate,--"mamma didn't altogether exonerate Raymond; she didn't think he +was altogether right, by any means; but then she does think--and so do +I, girls--that boys and young men are apt to treat a girl a good deal as +the girl treats them; and--and--Dorothea _was_ too forward with Raymond. +I saw it myself from the first; and she led him on,--she encouraged him +to treat her as he wouldn't have treated either of you two. She thought +he admired just those free, foolish ways of hers; but he didn't,--he was +only amused by them. Oh, I know Raymond; and I know if he had seen _me_ +going on with any one as Dorothea did, he would have scolded me well. It +wouldn't have amused him to have seen his sister going on so, to have +seen _me_ amusing any one like that. But, Hope, Kate, all the same, I +felt dreadfully at leaving Dorothea out,--dreadfully, for there I'd sent +off almost all the school invitations; there was no getting them back. +If I could have got them back, I would; and--yes, truly, I wouldn't have +sent any invitations to any one at Miss Marr's, if I had known I had got +to cut Dorothea. No; I wouldn't have sent one, and then I could have +explained it to the rest of you privately, or I could have said I +couldn't make so large a party this year. Yes, I would certainly have +done this if it hadn't been too late,--if mamma had only seen and +stopped Dorothea's invitation before the other school notes had been +sent. Yes, I would have done just that; and not because I'm at all fond +of Dorothea, but because I hate to hurt anybody's feelings, and to--to +make such a time. I should have gone back to school this week if it +hadn't been for this happening; but I'm not going now until after the +party, and I may not go until next term if my father will take me away +with him to Florida, where he is going next month; and I hope, oh, I +hope he will!" And here suddenly, to Hope and Kate's astonishment, this +quiet, self-contained Bessie Armitage covered her face with her hands +and burst into tears. + + +"Oh, Bessie! Bessie!" broke forth Hope and Kate, with a warm outrushing +of sympathy, and a desire to say something comforting,--"oh, Bessie, +Bessie!" and then suddenly they both stopped, for what could they say +further without saying something that would seem like a protest against +Mrs. Armitage's decision,--that, in fact, _would_ be a protest, for both +girls were protesting in their hearts at that moment, were saying +something like this to themselves,-- + +"What harm could it have done to let _this_ invitation go,--just this +one? They needn't ever have invited her again." And at that very moment, +as they were thus thinking, they heard the rings of a portière slip +aside, and there was Mrs. Armitage herself, entering from the next room +with a kind look of concern on her face, and in another moment, after +her friendly greeting, she was saying,-- + +"Bessie has told you my decision about the invitation to Miss Dering, +and I dare say you think I am very stiff and hard, not to let the +invitation go,--that it can't make much difference for this once; but, +my dears, it is _this once_, this one party, where my little +ten-year-old Amy and her little cousins will be in amongst the older +ones, that _will_ make all the difference, for I don't want these little +girls to see such an exhibition of loud manners, and those--I hate to +say it--vulgar _flirting_ ways such as I saw New Year's evening. If it +were any other party, a party where there were older girls only, I might +have let the invitation go; but I have seen the ill effects of very +young girls like my Amy and her cousins being brought into contact even +for a short time with a handsome showy girl who does and says the kind +of things that Miss Dering does, especially when that girl is accepted +as a guest by their own friends; and so, if only for this one reason +apart from any other, don't you see, my dears, that I _couldn't_ let +this invitation go?" + +"Yes, I do see, I do see!" cried Kate, impulsively; "but--Mrs. Armitage, +do you think she--Dorothea will understand--will know that it is her own +fault?" + +"I--I think she will, I think she must," answered Mrs. Armitage. There +were tears in her eyes as she said this; and as she bent down and kissed +them good-by, both Hope and Kate felt the depth and sincerity of her +purpose, and respected her for it. + +"She's right, she's right of course!" burst forth Kate, as the two girls +were driving away together; "but, oh, I do wish she hadn't been quite so +right, quite so high-minded just now; for _what_ an uncomfortable time +is ahead of us! Oh, Hope, I pity you; what shall you--what _can_ you +tell Dorothea?" + +"I don't see that I can tell her anything but the truth." + +"Not the whole truth?" + +"What else could I tell her?" + +"My! I wouldn't be in your shoes for something! She'll be so furious, +she'll fall upon you,--you or anybody who is nearest,--and chew you into +mince-meat! Oh, Hope, don't tell her! Tell her--tell her--oh, I have +it--tell her that you spoke to Bessie about the invitation, and that +there was none sent because Bessie is offended with her for some +reason,--that you can't tell her what it is, but that she must go to +Bessie herself for the reason. There! there you are all fixed up, and +with the great high-minded muss shoved off on to the Armitage shoulders, +where it ought to be. Houp la! I'd dance a jig if I were out of the +carriage!" + +"But I--I sha'n't shove it off like that, Katy dear. I shall tell +Dorothea everything,--it is the only way. I shall tell her as gently as +I can, but I shall tell her. If I turn it off in the way you suggest, it +will make more trouble. She'll go to Bessie the minute she gets back and +say something disagreeable to her, or she'll treat her in an angry +disagreeable manner, and just as like as not say something,--something +purposely impertinent to irritate Bessie,--for she won't stop at +anything then." + +"But do you think it will be any better--do you think she'll be any less +angry if you tell her that it is Mrs. Armitage who is at the bottom of +the business?" + +"Yes, I do; I think it will be a great deal better. She'll be +angry,--she may be furious, as you say; but I shall tell her just how +Bessie felt about _not_ sending the note,--how she cried over it, and +how Mrs. Armitage felt; and Dorothea has too much sense not to see +herself, after the first burst of temper, that the whole thing has been +made too serious a matter for her to quarrel about it in a little petty +way. And then--then I think, after she gets over the anger, that she is +going to be helped by the whole experience, going to see what she has +never seen before,--that she is all in the wrong in her way of doing and +saying the things that she does, and that she will be left out of +everything if she doesn't do differently; and nothing--no, nothing but +something like this--would ever show her how she has been hurting +herself." + +"Well, you _may_ be right, Hope; but _I_ believe this spoilt baby will +scream and kick and bang her head in some sort of tantrum way, and then +she'll pack up her clothes and rush off to Boston, shaking the wicked +dirty dust of New York from her feet, and calling us all a lot of primmy +old maids, or something worse." + +Hope laughed a little, but she was more than a little anxious and +troubled; for, spite of her brave stand, she did have a very decided +dread of applying that heroic treatment of the whole truth to Dorothea; +and her dread by no means diminished as she went down the long corridor +and saw at the end of it Dorothea's room-door standing open, and within +the room Dorothea herself, humming a gay waltz as she shook out the +folds of the yellow gown; and "Oh," groaned Hope, "she's getting it +ready for the party; she thinks everything is all right, and she's so +sure she's going. Oh, dear!" + +And then it was, when Hope's heart was quaking with fear and pity, that +Dorothea glanced up from the yellow gown and cried out joyfully,-- + +"Oh, there you are! Come in, come in, and tell me all about it,--how the +mistake was made; and where is it,--the invitation?--you brought it with +you, didn't you?" + +"No--I--she--" + +"Thought it wasn't necessary,--that you could tell me? Was the note +lost?" went on Dorothea, in her headlong way of anticipating everything +as usual, and only brought up at last by Hope's faint, distressed cry +of-- + +"Oh, Dorothea, there wasn't any invitation!" + +"Wasn't any? What--what do you mean?" exclaimed Dorothea, dropping her +yellow gown to the floor, and staring with great dilating eyes at Hope. + +"I mean that Bessie--that Bessie didn't--that--that it was stopped--that +her--" + +"Her brother stopped it? Raymond Armitage? He was so mean as +that--because I resented the way he treated me there at the theatre? +He--he has told her some lie, then, and I will tell _her_--" + +"Oh, Dorothea, Dorothea, wait, wait--listen to me! It is not--it was not +her brother, not Raymond Armitage, who stopped it; it was--it was--their +mother--it was Mrs. Armitage." + +"Mrs. Armitage! and Raymond went to her--he got her to stop it? Oh, +how--" + +"No, no, he did not go to her. Oh, Dorothea," going forward and taking +Dorothea's hand, "won't you wait, won't you listen to me?" + +The soft touch of Hope's hand, the soft tone, so full of pity it sounded +like love, seemed to surprise Dorothea out of her gathering wrath for a +moment, and her own fingers closing over Hope's with a sudden clinging +movement, she answered hastily,-- + +"Yes, yes, I'll listen, I'll listen; go on, go on!" + +And Hope, holding the girl's hand with that soft, firm touch, went on to +tell her the story that was so difficult for her to tell,--that "whole +truth" that she had decided that Dorothea must now know once for all. As +gently as possible, the talk with Bessie, the interview with Mrs. +Armitage was given; nothing, not even the reference to the New Year's +party episode and its prejudicial effect, being withheld; and yet +through it all Dorothea made no interruption, made no sign to show her +feeling, beyond now and then a convulsive clutch at the hand that was +holding hers, and a gradual fading away of the hot red color that had +suffused her face at the start. As Hope felt this clutch of her fingers +now and then, as she saw toward the end of her story the increasing +pallor of her companion's face, she could not help a thrill of +apprehension, for these signs seemed to her the signs of a storm that +would presently break forth; and as she came to the end, the very end of +what she had to say, she had a feeling of trying to steady herself, to +hold herself in readiness to argue or assert or soothe, whichever method +might seem best suited to stem or stay the outbreak she expected. But +what--what did this mean--this dead silence that followed, when she had +ceased speaking? Was this the calm before the dreaded storm? And Hope, +who had lowered her eyes toward the end of her story, instinctively +looked up,--looked up to see great tears rolling down the colorless +cheeks before her, and over all the face a pale passion of emotion that +did not seem to be the passion of anger. Could it be the passion of pain +only? Could it be that there was to be no storm of angry protest and +defiance even at the very first? No, there was to be no storm of that +kind. Dorothea had again surprised her! + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +But as the fears and apprehensions that beset her began to lessen, +Hope's pity and sympathy rose afresh, and with added vigor. She was +thinking how best to express this pity and sympathy without striking a +note of criticism that might injure the effect of what she had placed +before Dorothea, when Dorothea herself showed the way, as she suddenly +said,-- + +"There's no use for me to stay here any longer. I'd better go home, +where people know me, and--and don't think my ways are so dreadful." + +There was no angry temper in this speech. Though the tone was rather +morose and bitter, it seemed to spring from a sudden appalled sense of +defeat and danger such as she had never heretofore experienced. And this +was just the situation. Hope's tact and kindness had presented the whole +truth so carefully that petty irritation was swallowed up in the +something serious that Dorothea herself but half comprehended, but from +which her first instinct was to flee,--to go home where people knew her +and didn't think her ways so dreadful. + +But, "No, no," Hope urged against this desire. "You must stay, +Dorothea,--stay and take a better place than you've ever taken before +with us; for you can, oh, you can, Dorothea. You can make us all love +and admire you if you have a mind to, if you won't--won't be _quite_ so +headlong, so--so sure you are right in some things, so--childish in some +ways." + +"_I_ childish! 'Tisn't childishness your Mrs. Armitage is finding fault +with!" blurted out Dorothea, in a bitter yet broken tone. + +"But it is just that. If you were small for our age instead of so big, +it would be called childishness; and as it is, I've heard you spoken of +as 'a spoilt child.' But you are so tall, so big, so womanly, most +people think you are a grown up young lady; and--and grown up young +_ladies_ don't go on just in the way that you do, Dorothea." + +"'Just the way that I do!' Oh, I laugh, and I make too much noise in my +fun, I suppose you think; but what's the reason the Brookside people and +the lots of people we know all about Brookside,--what's the reason they +don't find fault with my ways and leave me out of their parties?" + +"You are a stranger here, Dorothea. You must remember that we never have +the same freedom, or are looked upon quite the same, in a place where we +are strangers, as where we have always lived," answered Hope, gently. + +"Then it's all the more reason why I'd better go home, where people know +me and don't think my ways so dreadful." + +"Dorothea, you have told me once or twice that your cousin found fault +with your ways, and perhaps--if he had not been your cousin, have known +you so well--if you had been a stranger to him, he might not have made a +friendly allowance for you; and, Dorothea, tell me one thing: did you +ever--ever go on there at home as you have here,--receiving gifts and +attentions, and going to the theatre on the--on the sly?" + +"N--o." + +"If you had, and it had been found out, do you think it would have been +passed over unnoticed?" + +"N--o, I don't suppose it would, but I shouldn't have been treated like +this,--left out like this." + +"No; because--because, Dorothea, you and your family are not +strangers,--because you are well known, and people forgive friends for a +long time." + +"Then I'd better go back to them, I'd better go back to them, and I +will, I will! Oh, I can't stay here, Hope, I can't, I can't! I see how +you'll all feel, how you'll think that I've been a disgrace to the +school, when this gets out that Mrs. Armitage wouldn't have me at the +party, and I can't, I can't stay." + +"Dorothea, Dorothea!" and Hope knelt down by the couch where Dorothea +had flung herself in an agony of tears,--knelt down, and putting her +arms about the suffering girl begged her never for a moment to think +that either she or Kate or Bessie would speak to the other girls about +Mrs. Armitage's action in regard to the invitation. "No, they will never +know from us, Dorothea,--never, never." + +[Illustration: "HOPE KNELT DOWN BY THE COUCH WHERE DOROTHEA HAD FLUNG +HERSELF"] + +"But--but what wi--will they think whe--when I--I don't--go to the +party?" sobbed Dorothea. + +"Of course they'll think there's been a falling out of some kind, and +there has; but it isn't necessary that they should be told what it is, +is it?" + +"N--o, n--o, but it wi--will ge--get out somehow. You--you'll see, Hope, +and I--I can't--I can't stay, and have them talking about my--my being +left out on--on purpose li--like this." + +"But even if the truth did get out, it would be a great deal worse for +you to run away than to stay, for it would look--it would +_be_--cowardly. No, no, Dorothea! you must stay, and I--I will help you +all I can; I will be your friend, whatever happens, and so will Kate." + +"Whatever happens." When Hope said this, she had little thought that +anything further in connection with the matter was to happen. She had +spoken out of her deep pity and sympathy, to soothe and sustain Dorothea +through a hard crisis,--to soothe and sustain and strengthen her to do +the courageous thing. She was quite sure, as she had said, that neither +Bessie nor Kate would tell the story of the arrested invitation; but she +made it still surer by exacting a solemn promise from them not to do +so,--a promise as solemnly kept as it was made. And yet, and yet, +somehow and from somewhere--was it through Mrs. Armitage or Raymond, +both of whom had given their word to Bessie to make no mention of the +subject?--a whisper of the truth, found its way, before the week was +over, into the schoolroom circle. And before the week was over, Dorothea +knew it! She knew it by the suddenly withdrawn glances as she looked up; +she knew it by the suddenly changed conversation as she approached; she +knew it by numberless little signs and indications in all directions. +And Hope, when she was presently beset by eager questions from one and +another,--Had she heard? and what did she think? and could it be +true?--poor Hope had hard work to fence and parry and hold her ground +without violating the truth. She succeeded at last, however, in +silencing her questioners; but she was perfectly well aware that she had +_only_ silenced them as far as she herself was concerned. + +Kate Van der Berg also had a good deal of the same trying experience, +and bore it less amiably. + +"I'm sick to death of the whole subject," she said at length to Hope. "I +wish to mercy Dorothea Dering had never entered this house! But don't be +alarmed!" as she caught a startled look from Hope; "I'm not going to +back down. I'll be good to her, and I _do_ pity her." + +"Pity her! I should think anybody _might_ pity her," cried Hope, with +almost a sob. "It simply breaks my heart to see her." + +And to Dorothea, who came to her with this further trouble,--who said to +her, "You see, you see, it has all come out just as I thought it +would,"--to Dorothea she was an angel indeed, this sweet-souled +Hope,--an angel of real help in the stanch devotion of her +companionship, and the constant influence it exerted in soothing and +encouraging her to accept the condition of things as they were, and make +the best of them by making no aggressive protest. It was not easy for +Dorothea to pursue this course, and Hope could not help admiring the new +spirit of dignity which she seemed to develop in sticking to it. + +But there was a new element of knowledge coming to Dorothea through her +bitter experience. She had always heretofore been ready to fight against +any and every opposition, as I have shown. Now, for the first time, she +was beginning to feel the pressure of that great power of the great +world which we call the sentiment of society, and dimly but surely to +perceive that she must submit to it, or at least that, if she tried to +fight against it, it would be to her own destruction. But this new sense +of things, valuable though it was in its present restraining influence +and its promise of right development, did not tend to make Dorothea feel +easier or happier at the moment. Rather, the restraint chafed and +depressed her. In spite of this depression, however, she said no more +about going back to Brookside. She was discovering for herself that Hope +was right,--that it would be not only cowardly for her to run away, but +prejudicial to her interests in every direction. But how difficult it +was for her to live through these days with apparent calmness, only Hope +guessed. What Hope did not guess was the extent and power of her own +helpfulness at this crisis. Dorothea, however, was fully aware of it; +and one day,--it was the morning after the Valentine party,--when the +girls had naturally been very voluble in their reminiscences of the +evening, she said to Hope,-- + +"Hope, you've helped me to _live_ through this thing, and I shall always +remember it, and always, always love you for it. But for you I could +never have stayed here and stood things,--never, never, never!" + +Yet not then had she received the full measure of Hope's help. It was +when the days went by, and she found that the curiosity about herself +had subsided, she also found that in the indifference that had succeeded +this curiosity there was a shadow of something that she could give no +name to,--that she could not at once understand,--but that by and by she +came to know was that shadow of the world's disapproval that she had +been made acquainted with through Mrs. Armitage. It was then, when the +girl felt herself in the settled atmosphere of this shadow, that Hope +showed the full measure of her power to help. + +Not immediately realizing the condition of things, she could not +comprehend what seemed to her Dorothea's persistent shrinking from the +companionship of the others, and at last remonstrated with her in this +wise:-- + +"Dorothea, you mustn't keep by yourself, and neglect the girls, as you +do. It isn't right or sensible." + +And to this Dorothea had replied, with a mirthless laugh,-- + +"Neglect them! If there is any neglect going on, _I'm_ not guilty of +it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Just what I say. _I'm_ not neglecting anybody." + +"You mean--that--that they are neglecting _you_?" + +Dorothea nodded. She could not command her voice to speak further. + +Hope was about to protest,--to say that there must be a mistake,--that +_she_ had seen nothing, when suddenly the meaning of certain little +things, that she had but vaguely noticed at the time, flashed over her, +bringing the instantaneous conviction that Dorothea was right. And with +this conviction there sprung up in Hope's heart a hot flame of +indignation, and she set herself to think what further she could +do--what strong measure could be taken--to show these girls that they +were not to sit in judgment in this wholesale fashion, and to show them, +too, that Dorothea had stanch friends who believed in her virtues, even +while they admitted her faults, and would stand by her through thick and +thin. + +But what _could_ she do further? She had indicated to the girls how +friendly she felt toward Dorothea, by bestowing upon her whatever kindly +attentions she could,--had walked with her and talked with her, and made +little visits to her room, which latter she had never been in the habit +of doing before. She had also influenced Kate to join her in these +attentions, and Kate had tried to do so,--not always successfully, +however; and yet all this had seemed to go for nothing against the tide +that had risen against the girl. What more _could_ be done? There was +nothing, nothing more. + +Yes, yes, yes, there _was_--there _was_ something more, there _was_ +something! And as this "something" flashed into Hope's mind, she seized +Dorothea's hands in hers, and-- + +"Dorothea, Dorothea!" she cried, "I have a plan,--something I want you +to do _for_ me and _with_ me. I am to play, you know, at the May +festival,--first, something Mr. Kolb has written specially for me; then, +later, a waltz also by Mr. Kolb. It is a duet, and Fraulein Schiller was +to play it with me; but she has got news of the illness of her mother, +and has gone home to Germany, and I have to choose some one to fill her +place; and I choose you, if you will take it." + +"Choose me,--_me_? Oh, Hope, Hope, Hope, I don't care for anything else +now,--not anything else! But, oh, _can_ I, _can_ I,--I'm afraid it's too +hard, that it's beyond me." + +"No, it isn't too hard, but I'll give you lessons; I'll practise with +you every day, if you'll study hard." + +"Study! I'll study every minute that I can get;" and then, quivering +with excitement, Dorothea flung herself upon the floor, and, putting her +head down on Hope's lap, cried brokenly,-- + +"Oh, Hope, Hope, how angelic of you to do this for me _now, now_!" + +It was the last of March when this proposition was made, and the +festival was to come off the last of May, that being the end of the +school year at Miss Marr's; the festival itself being a sort of +celebration of the year's work,--a grand general class day. + +To have a special part assigned to one in the program of this day was to +be specially honored, and great was the surprise when it was found that +Dorothea had been thus honored. + +There were two or three others--outside pupils, to be sure, but Fraulein +Schiller was an outside pupil--from whom it was expected that Hope would +make her choice, as they were known to be, if not particularly +brilliant, yet very faithful students of the violin; and to pass these +by for Dorothea was surprising indeed, and not to be explained by any +mere good-nature. Hope Benham _was_ a very good-natured girl, and had +been very kind and polite to Dorothea, the little school circle decided; +but they all knew how refined and fastidious and very, _very_ sensitive +she was, and what she thought about things; and if she thought seriously +that Dorothea had really--_really_ been so dreadfully loud and horrid as +they had heard, she would never have chosen her to stand up there before +all that festival audience with her. And arguing thus, this little +world, so like the big world under like circumstances, began to +re-consider things,--to think that perhaps--perhaps it might have made +mistakes in ranging itself so decidedly, and that it might be well in +that case to be a little less censorious in one's attitude. From this +there arose a slight change of tactics,--slight, but significant enough +if one were on the alert to take note of them; but Dorothea--Dorothea +was no longer so sensitively alert in these directions,--for morning, +noon, and night, at every regular practice hour, and sometimes at +irregular ones, her fiddle bow could be heard diligently at work, under +Hope's tutelage; and as she worked, as she surmounted difficulty after +difficulty in the musical score, she became so absorbed in her +occupation that she had little time to bestow upon other difficulties. +And so, day after day, the weeks went by, and brought at last the great +day they were all anticipating so anxiously,--the day of the May +Festival. + +It looked like the very heart of summer in the great hall at the top of +the house that festival morning, for it was literally made into a +perfect bower of wood and garden glories; windows, dome, aisles, and +stage wreathed and hung with forest growths, and set about with +flowering plants. At the back of the stage the arched doorway that led +into the anteroom was so skilfully decorated that it appeared like a +natural opening into some woodland way; and as the audience began to +fill the seats, and there came to them through this sylvan opening a +soft overture from unseen violins and piano, there was at first a hush +of delight and then a general burst of applause. The group of girls who +were not to take special parts and who sat together well down in front, +looked at each other inquiringly. The overture was a surprise to them, +as it was to all but the two or three behind the scenes. + +"It is Hope's doing, of course," one girl whispered. "And of course the +second violin is Dorothea!" whispered another, and then presently still +another whisper arose. It was Hope's doing, of course--because--Dorothea +probably had failed to perfect herself in the duet she had +undertaken--or--or Hope herself perhaps had failed in her courage to--to +stand up there before that festival-audience with Dorothea! This last +suggestion was caught at and turned over and over, until at length it +seemed to become a certainty. Yes, that was the only explanation of this +little overture being sprung upon them without warning. Hope's courage +had failed, and to console Dorothea in a measure, she had brought her +into this new arrangement! + +The little group of girls would not have owned to the disappointment +that they felt as they settled down upon this explanation; but with all +the Armitages, except Raymond, present in full force, every girl of the +group had somehow counted upon rather a sensation when Dorothea +appeared. How Bessie would stare, they had thought--Bessie, who had not +been back to school since her birthday party,--how she would stare and +wonder, and how surprised Mrs. Armitage would look to see the girl that +she had so disapproved of brought forward so conspicuously! But +now--well, things began to fall a trifle flat in the failure of such a +delectable sensation, and they gave a somewhat wavering attention to +what immediately followed. They brightened up, however, as Hope played +her "Mayflowers," and, applauding vigorously, found time to wonder what +that queer sub-title, "Ten Cents a Bunch," meant, and resolved that they +would ask her sometime; and then they yawned and fidgeted, and looked at +their little chatelaine watches, and craned their necks to look at the +people behind them, and nodded at this one and that one, and finally +fell to studying their programs, and glanced significantly, and with a +little air of "I told you so," at each other, as they saw that the duet +number had just been passed over. After this they settled themselves +comfortably back to wait for the close of the exercises, when the best +of the festival to their thinking was to come,--the meeting with their +friends, the introductions to the other girls' friends, the gay talking +and walking about, and the merry end of it all, when, as if by magic, +the pretty bowery stage was to be converted into a sylvan tea-room, +presided over by a chosen number of the school-girls. + +Only two brief exercises,--a short essay by Anna Fleming and a little +aria of Schumann's by Myra Donaldson, and then ho, for the anticipated +festival fun, these waiting girls jubilantly thought; and so absorbed +were they in this thought that their attention was only half given to +Anna's clever little essay upon School Friendships, which had some sharp +hits in it; but they nevertheless joined in the vigorous applause, +though by that time their attention had entirely wandered from the stage +to the movements of a new late arrival just outside the doorway,--a tall +fine-looking man that Mrs. Sibley, Hope's friend, was smiling radiantly +upon, and beckoning to her seat. Who _could_ he be? But hark! what--what +sound was that? A violin? But Schumann's aria was a solo,--Hope was not +to play with Myra! No, no, Hope was not to play with Myra, for +there--there upon the stage, Hope in her white dress was standing +beside--Dorothea! The duet had not been omitted then, only carried +forward! + + +No more yawning and fidgeting now from the group of girls; with eager +interest they leaned forward to see the two white-robed figures as they +stood there side by side,--one with her waving golden-brown hair, her +golden-brown eyes, and fair soft coloring; the other with her shining +black locks, her great sombre orbs,--for there was no light of laughter +in them at this moment,--and the strange pallor of coloring that at that +instant lent almost a tragic look to her face. No, no more yawning and +fidgeting now, and no more doubt or question of Dorothea's ability to +play her part, as the sweet full strains rose harmoniously together. +Dorothea had studied, indeed,--had studied so ardently that she had +greatly surprised Hope at the last by her accuracy and finish. But as +she stood there before the festival audience, she surprised her still +further by the something more than the accuracy and finish,--that +something that every musical artist recognizes, that Hope at once +recognized,--the touch of living, breathing, individual emotion, of +passionate personal appeal. With a thrill of sympathy, Hope +instinctively responded to this, and there arose a strain of such +moving, melting power that the audience, listening in breathless +delight, broke forth at the end in a little whirlwind of applause. + +The aria that followed was beautifully rendered, but the audience could +not seem to fix its attention upon it as it should have done; and Myra +had scarcely struck her last note when there was a general uprising, and +hastening forward toward the little flock of girl-students who had taken +part in the exercises. In the centre of this flock, standing together, +were Hope and Dorothea, and there was a buzz of girl talk going on about +them,--a buzz of congratulation, of enthusiasm, not one of the girls +hanging back,--when over it all, Hope suddenly caught the sound of +another voice,--a deep manly voice,--the voice of--of--oh, could it be? +Yes, yes, it was; and starting forward, she cried joyfully, "Oh it +_is_--it _is_ my father!" and the next instant her father's arms were +round her, and his kisses on her cheek. + +Her father! Dorothea glanced up eagerly. _That_, that +distinguished-looking man the man who was once a locomotive engineer! +Had she heard aright? Yes, she had heard aright, for presently there was +Mrs. Sibley saying in answer to some questioner,-- + +"It's her father, yes; he's the great inventor, you know. He came on +unexpectedly, and is to take Hope back with him to spend the summer in +the north of France." + +And presently, again, Dorothea saw Miss Marr and the Van Der Bergs and +the Sibleys and--yes, the Armitages, looking up and listening with the +most admiring interest to this man who was once a locomotive engineer! + +What would Dorothea have thought, how would she have felt, if she had +heard Mrs. Armitage say to one of her acquaintances a little later,-- + +"There must be something fine and good, after all, in this Dorothea +Dering, to attract to herself and make a friend of such a girl as Mr. +Benham's daughter; and certainly she has shown a very refined taste in +her manner of playing. I wonder if she hasn't been improved all round by +Miss Benham's influence?" + +And what would she have thought if she had heard Miss Marr talking in +somewhat the same strain to Mr. Benham,--telling him what a restraining, +refining influence his dear little daughter had had over one of the most +difficult of all her charges; and what would she have felt if she could +have known all Mr. Benham's thoughts on this subject as he listened +there with that rather grave smile of his? + +But Dorothea heard and knew nothing of all this. She only heard and felt +the warmth of appreciation that had followed her violin performance. She +only saw that the little world that had turned away from her was now +turning toward her, and her spirits began to rise once more. But they +did not overflow all reasonable bounds as before. There was a new +reserve in her demeanor that certainly did not rob her of her +attractiveness, if one could judge from the kindly looks cast upon her +by some of the older people, as she helped in the tea-table +hospitalities. + +Some of the younger people too seemed not to be blind to this new +attractiveness. But it remained for Peter Van Loon to express the real +effect produced, and he did it fully, as he suddenly turned to Hope from +a long observation of Dorothea at her tea-table duties,--turned and said +in that odd way of his,-- + +"I say, now, she'll get to be an awfully nice girl by and by, won't she, +if she keeps on--on this track?" + +Hope felt a little startled, though she couldn't help being amused at +this queer remark of Peter's; but she quite agreed with it, and told him +so; and then Peter said in the same emphatic way,-- + +"I've heard all about it--how you've stuck to her--from Kate--Kate Van +der Berg; and I'd--I'd like to say, if you don't mind, that you're a +trump, Miss Benham; and the other fellows think so too." + + +THE END. + + + + +KATHARINE RUTH ELLIS + + +WIDE AWAKE GIRLS SERIES + + +THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS + +Illustrated by Sears Gallagher. + +A book doubly remarkable because its excellent workmanship comes from a +hand hitherto untried.--_New York Times._ + +Its excellent literary tone, simple, refined, and its frequent humor and +fresh, strong interest commend it as a most promising first volume of +"The Wide Awake Girls" series.--_Hartford Times._ + +The quiet and cultured home life presented forms a pleasing contrast to +the more showy and hollow life of the wealthy and wins the reader by a +strong and subtle spell. The whole story is fresh and bracing and full +of good points and information as well.--_St. Louis Globe Democrat._ + + +THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS AT WINSTED + +Illustrated by Sears Gallagher. + +It is another charming book, without sentimentality or gush about the +four girls who made such a jolly quartette in the preceding +story.--_Philadelphia Press._ + +Incidents are many, and the story is vivaciously told. The tone +throughout is refined and the spirit stimulating.--_Brooklyn Daily +Times._ + +Those who read the first volume of Katharine Ruth Ellis' "Wide Awake +Girls" series last year will welcome the second volume. They will +encounter again the same four girls of the previous book, all at +Catharine's home in Winsted, and they will find them just as vivacious +and entertaining as ever.--_Chicago Tribune._ + + +THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS AT COLLEGE + +Illustrated by Sears Gallagher. + +The third volume in the "Wide Awake Girls" series finds the four friends +at Dexter, where they live the happy, merry life of the modern college +girl. Miss Ellis still maintains the atmosphere of quiet refinement, and +has introduced an older element, which lends much to the interest of the +book--the element of love and romance. The "Wide Awakes" are growing up +and Catharine's love story delights her associates. + + + + +ANNA HAMLIN WEIKEL'S BETTY BAIRD SERIES + + +BETTY BAIRD + +Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown. + +A boarding school story, with a charming heroine, delightfully narrated. +The book is lively and breezy throughout.--_Philadelphia Press._ + +A true presentment of girl life.--_Chicago Evening Post._ + +Betty is a heroine so animated and charming that she wins the reader's +affection at once. When she enters the boarding school she is shy, +old-fashioned, and not quite so well-dressed as some of the other girls. +It is not long, however, before her lovable character wins her many +friends, and she becomes one of the most popular girls in the +school.--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + +The illustrations, by Ethel Pennewill Brown, are remarkably successful +in their portrayal of girlish spirit and charm.--_New York Times._ + + +BETTY BAIRD'S VENTURES + +Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown. + +Will please the girls who liked the piquant and original Betty, when she +first appeared in the volume bearing her name.--_Hartford Times._ + +The very spirit of youth is in these entertaining pages.--_St. Paul +Pioneer Press._ + + +BETTY BAIRD'S GOLDEN YEAR + +Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown. + +In the third and concluding volume of "The Betty Baird Series," Betty is +shown happily at work in her profession, still earnest in her purpose to +pay off the mortgage, and in the meantime to make her home a centre of +useful interests. + + + + +ANNA CHAPIN RAY'S "TEDDY" STORIES + + +Miss Ray's work draws instant comparison with the best of Miss Alcott's: +first, because she has the same genuine sympathy with boy and girl life; +secondly, because she creates real characters, individual and natural, +like the young people one knows, actually working out the same kind of +problems; and, finally, because her style of writing is equally +unaffected and straightforward.--_Christian Register_, Boston. + + +TEDDY: HER BOOK. A Story of Sweet Sixteen + +Illustrated by Vesper L. George. + +This bewitching story of "Sweet Sixteen," with its earnestness, +impetuosity, merry pranks, and unconscious love for her hero, has the +same spring-like charm.--_Kate Sanborn._ + + +PHEBE: HER PROFESSION. A Sequel to "Teddy: Her Book" + +Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. + +This is one of the few books written for young people in which there is +to be found the same vigor and grace that one demands in a good story +for older people.--_Worcester Spy._ + + +TEDDY: HER DAUGHTER + +A Sequel to "Teddy: Her Book," and "Phebe: Her Profession" + +Illustrated by J. B. Graff. + +It is a human story, all the characters breathing life and +activity.--_Buffalo Times._ + + +NATHALIE'S CHUM + +Illustrated by Ellen Bernard Thompson. + +Nathalie is the sort of a young girl whom other girls like to read +about.--_Hartford Courant._ + + +URSULA'S FRESHMAN. A Sequel to "Nathalie's Chum" + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +The best of a series already the best of its kind.--_Boston Herald._ + + +NATHALIE'S SISTER. A Sequel to "Ursula's Freshman" + +Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. + +Peggy, the heroine, is a most original little lady who says and does all +sorts of interesting things. She has pluck and spirit, and a temper, but +she is very lovable, and girls will find her delightful to read +about.--_Louisville Evening Post._ + + + + +ANNA CHAPIN RAY'S "SIDNEY" STORIES + + + +SIDNEY: HER SUMMER ON THE ST. LAWRENCE + +Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. + +The young heroine is a forceful little maiden of sweet sixteen. The +description of picnics in the pretty Canadian country are very gay and +enticing, and Sidney and her friends are a merry group of wholesome +young people.--_Churchman_, New York. + + +JANET: HER WINTER IN QUEBEC + +Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. + +Gives a delightful picture of Canadian life, and introduces a group of +young people who are bright and wholesome and good to read about.-_-New +York Globe._ + + +DAY: HER YEAR IN NEW YORK + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +A good story, bright, readable, cheerful, natural, free from +sentimentality.--_New York Sun._ + + +SIDNEY AT COLLEGE + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +The book is replete with entertaining incidents of a young woman who is +passing through her freshman year at college.--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + + +JANET AT ODDS + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +An ideal book for an American girl. It directs a girl's attention to +something beside the mere conventional side of life. It teaches her to +be self-reliant. Its atmosphere is hopeful and helpful.--_Boston Globe._ + + +SIDNEY: HER SENIOR YEAR + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +This delightful story completes the author's charming and popular series +of Sidney Books. Day, Janet, and a host of their bright friends meet +again at Smith College, where Sidney is the President of the Senior +Class, and their gayety fill the pages with spirited incidents. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hope Benham, by Nora Perry + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPE BENHAM *** + +***** This file should be named 36105-8.txt or 36105-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/0/36105/ + +Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Hope Benham + A Story for Girls + +Author: Nora Perry + +Release Date: May 14, 2011 [EBook #36105] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPE BENHAM *** + + + + +Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>HOPE BENHAM.</h1> + +<h3>A Story for Girls.</h3> + +<h2>By NORA PERRY</h2> + +<h3>AUTHOR OF "LYRICS AND LEGENDS," "ANOTHER FLOCK OF GIRLS," "A ROSEBUD +GARDEN OF GIRLS," ETC.</h3> + + +<h3>Illustrated by<br /> +FRANK T. MERRILL.</h3> + +<h3>BOSTON:<br /> +LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.</h3> + +<h3><i>Copyright, 1894</i>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Nora Perry.</span></h3> + +<h3>Printers<br /> +<span class="smcap">S. J. Parkhill & Co., Boston, U. S. A.</span></h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">Ten cents a bunch</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<p> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</a><br /><br /> +<a href="#KATHARINE_RUTH_ELLIS">Other Publications</a><br /> +</p> + +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h3>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h3> + + +<p><a href="#illus1">"<span class="smcap">Ten cents a bunch</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus2">"<span class="smcap">He lifted the bow and drew it across the strings</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus3">"<span class="smcap">She took Hope's violin from her hands</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus4">"<span class="smcap">It was the work of a moment to possess herself of the book</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus5">"<span class="smcap">How de do, Hope?</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus6">"<span class="smcap">She stood there an image of grace, her chin bent lovingly down to her +violin</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus7">"<span class="smcap">Don't, don't go</span>"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#illus8">"<span class="smcap">Hope knelt down by the couch where Dorothea had flung herself</span>"</a></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>HOPE BENHAM.</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + + +<p>"Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!"</p> + +<p>A party of three young girls coming briskly around the southwest corner +of the smart little Brookside station, hearing this call, turned, then +stopped, then exclaimed all together,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, how perfectly lovely! the first I have seen. Just what I want!" and +they pulled out their purses to buy "just what they wanted," just what +everybody wants,—a bunch of trailing arbutus.</p> + +<p>"And they are made up so prettily, without all that stiff arbor-vitæ +framing. What is this dear little leafy border?" asked one of the young +ladies, glancing up from her contemplation of the flowers to the +flower-seller.</p> + +<p>"It's the partridge-berry leaf."</p> + +<p>"Oh! and you picked them all yourself,—the arbutus and this +partridge-berry leaf?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" repeated the young lady, giving a stare at the little +flower-seller,—a stare that was quickly followed by another question,—</p> + +<p>"Do you live near here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; very near."</p> + +<p>"But you don't find this arbutus in Brookside?"</p> + +<p>"No, in Riverview."</p> + +<p>"In Riverview! why, I didn't know that the arbutus grew so near Boston +as that."</p> + +<p>"We have always found a little in Riverview woods, but this year there +is quite a large quantity."</p> + +<p>Riverview was the next station to Brookside. In Riverview were +manufactories, locomotives, and iron-works, and in Riverview lived the +people who worked in these manufactories. But in Brookside were only +fine suburban residences, and a few handsome public buildings, for in +Brookside lived the owners of the manufactories and other rich folk, who +liked to be out of the smoke and grime of toil. The railroad station of +Brookside, as contrasted with that of Riverview, showed the difference +in the residents of the two places; for the Brookside station was a fine +and elegant stone structure, suited to fine and elegant folk, and the +Riverview station was just a plain little wooden building, hardly more +than a platform and a shelter.</p> + +<p>"But you don't live in Riverview, do you?" was the next question the +young lady asked of the flower-seller, about whom she seemed to have a +great deal of curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I live in Riverview," was the answer, with an upward glance of +surprise at the questioner and the question. Why should the young lady +question her in that tone, when she said, "But you don't live in +Riverview?"</p> + +<p>The next question was more easily understood.</p> + +<p>"You come over to the Brookside station to sell your flowers, don't you, +because there are likely to be more buyers here?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; I couldn't sell them at Riverview."</p> + +<p>Just then other voices were heard, and other people began to gather +about the flower-seller, who from that time was kept busy until the +train approached. As the cars moved away from the station, the young +lady who had been so curious looked out of the window, and then said to +her companions,—</p> + +<p>"She has sold every bunch."</p> + +<p>"What? Oh, that flower-girl! Why in the world were you so interested in +her?" one of the girls asked wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Why? Did you look at her?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say that I did, particularly. What was there peculiar about +her?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. Only she didn't look like a poor child,—a common child, you +know, who would sell things on the street. She was very prettily and +neatly dressed, and she spoke just like—well, just like any +well-brought-up little girl."</p> + +<p>"Did she?" politely remarked her friend, in an absent way. She was not +in the least interested in this flower-girl. Her thoughts were turning +in a very different direction,—the direction of her spring shopping, a +gay little party, and a dozen other kindred subjects.</p> + +<p>In the mean time the little flower-seller, with a light basket and a +lighter heart, was waiting for the down train. It was only a mile from +Brookside to Riverview, an easy walk for a strong, sturdy girl of ten; +but all the same, this strong, sturdy girl of ten preferred to ride, and +you will see why presently. The down or out-going train from Boston +passes the in-going train a short distance from Brookside, and she had +only five minutes to wait for it. This five minutes was very happily +employed in mentally counting up her sales, as she walked to and fro +upon the platform. She had brought twenty bunches of arbutus in her +basket, and she had sold every one. Twenty bunches at ten cents a bunch +made two dollars. She gave a little hop, skip, and jump, as she thought +of this sum.</p> + +<p>Two dollars! Now, if she should go again this very afternoon to the +Riverview woods and gather a new supply, she might come back to +Brookside and be ready when the 5.30 train brought people home from the +city. So many people drove down to the station then to meet their +husbands or fathers or brothers,—ladies and children too. It would be +just the very best hour of all to sell flowers. Yes, she would certainly +do it. It was only half-past one. She would have ample time, and then +perhaps she would double—Cling-a-ling-a-ling, went the electric +announcement of the coming train, and pouf, pouf, pouf, comes the train +down the line, and there is her father looking out for her from the +engine cab. He nods and smiles to her, and in another minute she has +been helped up, and is standing beside him.</p> + +<p>"Well, Hope, how did the flowers go?"</p> + +<p>"I sold them all,—twenty bunches. Now!" The last word was thrown out as +a joyful exclamation of triumph. Her father laughed a little. "And, +father, I want to go to the woods again this afternoon for more flowers, +and come back here for the 5.30 train,—there's such lots of people on +that train."</p> + +<p>The father looked grave.</p> + +<p>"Oh, do let me, please!"</p> + +<p>"I don't like to have you hanging around a station so much."</p> + +<p>"But Brookside is different from a great many stations. There are no +rough people ever about;" and with a brisk little air, "It's business, +you see."</p> + +<p>Mr. Benham laughed again, as he said, "Two dollars a day is pretty good +business, I should think."</p> + +<p>"But it won't last long,—only this vacation week. 'T isn't as if I were +going to make two dollars every day all through the season."</p> + +<p>"That is true. Well, go ahead and 'make hay while the sun shines.' +You'll be a better business fellow than your father if you keep on. But +here we are at Riverview. Mind, now, that you leave Brookside to-night +on the six o'clock train, no matter whether you've sold your flowers or +not."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." There was a joyful sound in this "Yes, sir," and a happy +upward look at her father, which he did not catch, however, for not once +did his eyes move from their steady watchfulness of the road before him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + + +<p>"There he comes!" and Hope ran forward out of the little garden to meet +her father, as he came down the street, while her mother turned from the +door where she had been waiting and watching with Hope, and went back +into the tiny dining-room to put a few finishing-touches to the +supper-table. Mr. Benham nodded as he caught sight of Hope. Then he +called out,—</p> + +<p>"How's business?"</p> + +<p>"Two dollars more!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well, you'll be a big capitalist soon at this rate, and grind the +poor."</p> + +<p>"Poor engineers like John Benham!" and Hope laughed gleefully at their +joint joke.</p> + +<p>"Yes, poor engineers like John Benham, who have extravagant daughters +who want to buy violins. But, Hope, you mustn't get your thoughts so +fixed on this violin business that you can't think of anything else. +Your school, you know, begins next week."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know. I sha'n't neglect that. I wouldn't get marked down for +anything."</p> + +<p>"You're going to learn to be a teacher, you know; keep that in mind."</p> + +<p>"I do; I do. Oh, father dear, don't worry about the music! 'All work and +no play makes Jack a dull boy,' you said the other day. Now, music is my +play. Some of the girls in my classes go to dancing-school, and do lots +of things to amuse themselves. They don't seem to neglect their lessons, +and why should I, with just this one thing outside, that I like to do?"</p> + +<p>There was a twinkle in John Benham's eyes, as he looked down at his +daughter.</p> + +<p>"Who taught you to argue, Hope?"</p> + +<p>"A poor engineer named John Benham," answered Hope, as quick as a flash.</p> + +<p>John Benham laughed outright at this quick retort; and as he opened the +gate that led into the little garden in front of his house, he put his +arm over his daughter's shoulder, and thus affectionately side by side +they walked along the narrow pathway. They were great friends, he and +Hope. He used to tell her that as she was an only child, she must be son +and daughter too, and he had very early got into the habit of talking to +her in a confidential fashion that had the effect of making her a sort +of little comrade from the first.</p> + +<p>The young lady who had wondered at the little flower-seller's looking +and speaking just like any other well-brought-up little girl would have +had further cause for wonder if she could have followed the engineer and +his daughter into their home, and seen the good taste of its pretty +though inexpensive furnishing and arrangements. Locomotive engineers +were unknown persons to this young lady. They belonged to the +laboring-class; and that in her mind included all mechanical workers, +from the skilled artisan to the ignorant hod-carrier and wielder of pick +and shovel. She knew that the latter lived poorly, in poor quarters, +crowded tenement houses, or shabby little frame cottages or cabins of +two or three rooms. As the difference in the different work did not +occur to her, neither did the possible difference in the manner of +living.</p> + +<p>There are older people than this young lady, this pretty Mary Dering, +who are almost as unintelligent about the workers of the world, and they +would have been almost as astonished as she, not only at the good taste +of the simple furnishings, but at the signs of intelligent thought in +the collection of books and magazines on the table. If pretty Mary +Dering, however, could have seen all these things, she would not have +wondered so much at Hope's speaking and looking like any well-brought-up +little girl.</p> + +<p>Hope <i>was</i> a well-brought-up little girl, as you will see,—as well +brought up as Mary herself, or Mary's sister Dolly, who was just Hope's +age. If you had said this to Mary Dering, she would have told you that +she could not imagine a well-brought-up child selling things on the +street. Dolly would never have been allowed to stand in public places +and cry, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" under any +circumstances. But Mary did not know how much circumstances altered +cases; and for one thing, if she <i>could</i> have seen Dolly in Hope's place +for one half-hour, she would have had to own that Hope was much the +better behaved of the two, for in spite of Dolly's bringing up, she was +the greatest little rattler in public places, calling down upon herself +this constant remonstrance from each one of her family, "Now, Dolly, do +try to be quiet, like a lady!"</p> + +<p>"But why, why, <i>why</i>," you ask, "did Hope, with such a nice, intelligent +father, who could buy all those magazines and books,—why did she need +to earn the money herself, to buy a violin?"</p> + +<p>I'll tell you. To begin with, all those books and magazines were not +bought by Mr. Benham; they were, with one or two exceptions, taken from +the Boston Public Library. Mr. Benham's salary was only fifteen hundred +dollars a year, and it took every cent of this to keep up that simple +little home, and put by a sum every week for a rainy day.</p> + +<p>Hope loved music, and she loved the music of a violin beyond any other +kind. One day when she was in Boston, she saw the dearest little violin +in a shop-window. What possessed her I don't know, for she knew she +hadn't a penny in the world; but she went in and asked the price of it +with the easiest air imaginable.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five dollars," the shopkeeper told her.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" and Hope drew in her breath. Twenty-five dollars! It might as well +have been twenty-five thousand dollars, for all the possibility of her +possessing it.</p> + +<p>"Don't—don't they have cheaper ones?" she asked timidly.</p> + +<p>"They have things they <i>call</i> violins for ten, fifteen, twenty dollars, +but they'd crack your ears. If you're going to learn to play, this is a +good little fiddle for you to begin with, for it's true and sweet;" and +the shopkeeper lifted it up and drew the bow across the strings, in a +melodious, rippling strain that went to Hope's heart.</p> + +<p>The man thought that she was going to take lessons; and she could, if +she only had an instrument, for Mr. Kolb, an old German neighbor of +theirs, who had once been the first violin in a famous orchestra, had +said to her more than once when she had listened to his playing with +delight: "Some day your fader will puy you a little violin, and I will +teach you for notting, Mädchen; you have such true lofe for music."</p> + +<p>But twenty-five dollars! Oh, no! it could never be! and Hope went out of +the shop with her plans laid low.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, as she was walking to the station, she heard a +boy's voice, crying, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!"</p> + +<p>She looked up, and saw that he held some very meagre little nosegays of +arbutus,—meagre, that is, as to the arbutus, but made sizable by the +border of stiff arbor-vitæ. Then, all at once, the thought flashed into +her mind. Why shouldn't she turn flower-seller? She knew where the +arbutus grew thick, thick; and why, why—There was no putting the rest +of her thoughts into words; but right there on the street she gave a +little jump, and hummed the rippling strain she had just heard drawn +from the good little fiddle.</p> + +<p>Twenty-five dollars! What was that now with "Ten cents a bunch! ten +cents a bunch!" ringing in her ears with such alluring possibilities?</p> + +<p>Mr. Benham at first would not hear to the flower-selling plan; but when +he saw that Hope's heart was set upon that "good little fiddle," when he +heard her say to her mother, "If father can't buy the fiddle for me, it +seems to me he might let me try to buy it for myself," he began to +relent; and when the mother and he had a talk, and the mother said, "Of +course you can't afford to buy it, John, for we are a little behind now, +with your and my winter suits, and the new range to pay for yet; but as +I really think it will be a good thing for Hope to learn to play the +violin, I don't see why it wouldn't be a good thing for her to earn it +herself," he relented still more, and when the mother said further, in +answer to his objections to having Hope hanging around in public places, +as a little peddler, "John, you can trust Hope; she is a sensible +child," he relented entirely; and the next week after, Hope entered upon +her business as a flower-seller.</p> + +<p>The success of that first day was a surprise to her father, and he +warned her not to expect anything like it on the succeeding days, +telling her that the weather would very likely turn chilly and rainy, +that fewer people might be going and coming from town, and that even +these might not stop to buy flowers. He did not want to discourage her; +he simply wanted to prepare her for disappointment. But Hope was not +doomed to disappointment in this direction. The succeeding days proved +both pleasant and profitable; especially profitable were Wednesday and +Saturday afternoons, when so many ladies went in to the matinée +performances. Yet with all this success, this pleasantness of weather, +and steady increase in her sales, there was something very <i>un</i>pleasant +for Hope to bear,—something that she had not in the least looked for, +because she had never before met with anything like it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + + +<p>It was on Wednesday that a little party of girls came hurrying into the +Brookside station, as if they had not a minute to lose, when one of them +exclaimed: "Why, our train has gone; look at that!" pointing to the +indicator. "The next train goes at 1.40. We shall have only twenty +minutes to get from the Boston station to the Museum."</p> + +<p>"Time enough," answered Mary Dering; "we always go too early. But +there's our little girl. We shall have ample opportunity now to buy all +the flowers we want. Dolly," to her younger sister, who was marching up +and down the platform with a friend of her own age, "Dolly, don't you +want to buy some flowers?"</p> + +<p>"Flowers? Oh, yes!" and Dolly came racing up, calling out in a loud +whisper, as she joined the group, "Say, Mary, is that your wonderful +flower-girl?"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Dolly; don't!"</p> + +<p>"Don't what?"</p> + +<p>"Don't whisper so loudly; she can hear you."</p> + +<p>Dolly laughed. "What if she does? I didn't say anything that wasn't +nice."</p> + +<p>The group of girls pressed around Hope, and bought lavishly of her +stock. Dolly and her friend Lily Styles were the latest of the buyers, +for coming up last they were on the outside of the group. As they stood +alone with Hope, they picked and pecked first at one bouquet, and then +another. This was fuller, and that was bigger, and still another was +prettier and pinker. At last they made a choice, and Hope breathed a +sigh of relief at the thought that now her exacting purchasers would +leave her to herself. But Dolly Dering had no notion of leaving Hope to +herself. No sooner was the purchase concluded than Miss Dolly, lifting +her big black eyes with a curious gaze to Hope's face, asked abruptly,—</p> + +<p>"Do you like to sell flowers on the street?"</p> + +<p>Hope flushed hotly. "I don't sell flowers on the street."</p> + +<p>"Well, in a station, then. I should think that was just the same as on +the street; it's out-of-doors in a public place."</p> + +<p>Hope made no further reply. She would have moved away if she could have +done so easily, but the two girls stood directly in front of her, +completely shutting her into her corner. Perhaps, however, they would go +away if she busied herself with her flowers, and she began to re-arrange +and spray them with water. But Dolly, at sight of this operation, began +with fresh interest, "Oh! is that the way you keep 'em fresh? How nice! +let me try it, do!" and before Hope could say "yes" or "no," she had +seized the sprayer out of her hands. Her first effort, instead of +benefiting the flowers, sent a sharp little sprinkle directly against +Hope's light cloth jacket. Hope started back with an exclamation of +dismay.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it won't hurt it!" cried Dolly. Then, as she saw Hope rubbing the +wet place with her handkerchief, she asked, "Will your mother punish you +if she finds the jacket spotted?"</p> + +<p>"Punish me?" exclaimed Hope, looking up at the questioner.</p> + +<p>"Yes, punish you; whip you, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"My mother—whip me?" ejaculated Hope, staring at Dolly, as if she +thought her out of her mind.</p> + +<p>"Yes, whip you; I didn't know—"</p> + +<p>"Would <i>your</i> mother whip <i>you</i> if you got spots on <i>your</i> jacket?" +inquired Hope, in a sharp, indignant voice.</p> + +<p>"<i>My</i> mother? No."</p> + +<p>"Then why should you think <i>my</i> mother would whip <i>me</i>?"</p> + +<p>Dolly was not a very sensitive young person, but she could not blurt out +exactly what was in her mind,—that she thought all poor people, +working-people, whipped their children when they offended them in any +way. Her ideas of poor people were very vague, and gathered partly from +the talk of her elders about the North End poor that the Associated +Charities assisted. In this talk a word now and then concerning the +careless way in which these people beat their children for the slightest +offence impressed her more than anything. Then Bridget Kelly, who had +been Dolly's nurse, had often related stories of her own childish +naughtinesses, for her—Dolly's—benefit, and she had almost invariably +wound up these stories with the remark, "And didn't my mother beat me +well for being such a bad girl!"</p> + +<p>Dolly had put this and that together, and come to the conclusion that +poor people were all alike,—a good deal as her sister had included all +mechanical workers together. But if Miss Dolly couldn't blurt out all +that was in her mind, she had very little tact of concealment, and when +she replied to Hope's question something about people's being different, +and that she knew that some people beat their children for doing things +they didn't like them to do, she unwittingly made things quite clear +enough to Hope, with her fine, keen intelligence, so clear that she +comprehended at once the whole state of the case. What would have +happened when this moment of comprehension suddenly came to Hope, what +she would have said if there had been time to say anything, it is +needless to conjecture, for there wasn't an instant of time for a word, +as at that very moment, pouf, pouf, pouf, the train steamed into the +station, and Dolly Dering and her friend Lily ran scampering down the +platform.</p> + +<p>Hope looked after them, with eyes blinded by hot, angry tears. The last +few minutes had been a revelation to her of the thoughtless +misunderstandings of the world. To think that she—Hope Benham—should +be ranked with that vast ignorant class of "poor people" who "lived +anyhow," all because she was selling flowers in a public place! "They +might have known better, if they had any sense; they might have known at +a glance!" And with this indignant thought, Hope went into the ladies' +waiting-room, and surveyed herself in the mirror that hung there. What +did she see? A bright-faced girl, clean and fresh, with neatly braided +hair; clothed in a little fawn-colored jacket, a brown dress, and with a +pretty plain brown felt hat upon her head. To be sure, she wore no +gloves; but her hands were nicely kept, the nails well cut and rosily +clean. To mix her up with poor people who "lived anyhow"! Perhaps they +fancied, those girls, that the fawn-colored jacket and the brown dress +and the hat were given to her,—gifts of charity! Yes, that was what +they fancied, of course. They had talked her over. "Is that your +wonderful flower-girl?" she had overheard the younger girl say to the +older. She had been called this because she was dressed decently, +because she behaved herself decently. They couldn't understand—these +rich people—how any one who sold flowers, who sold anything—<i>on the +street</i>—yes, that was what they called it—could be decent. Oh, it was +they who were ignorant,—these rich people! They didn't know anything +about other people's lives,—other people who were not rich like +themselves.</p> + +<p>Hope's little purse was full of shining silver pieces as she went back +to Riverview, but her heart was fuller of bitterness.</p> + +<p>"You look tired, Hope," said her mother, anxiously, as Hope walked into +the house. But Hope declared that she was not in the least tired, that +it was only the tiresomeness of some of her customers,—fussy folk, who +picked and pecked and asked questions. Not a word more did she say. She +was not going to worry her mother, hurt her feelings as hers had been +hurt with the foolish, ignorant talk of those foolish, ignorant, rich +girls,—not she! So she comforted herself by counting up her silver +pieces, and reckoning how much nearer she was to the "good little +fiddle." She tried to keep the little fiddle and the sweet strain the +shopkeeper had drawn from it, continually in her mind, as she stood in +the station again that night on the arrival of the 5.30 train. The good +little fiddle, with the sweet strain, should be the shield against +tormenting questioners and questions. But she was not to be tormented +that night by any one.</p> + +<p>Dolly Dering did not even look at her, as she skipped by. Dolly was too +eager to secure a place beside her father on the front seat of the +carriage, as they drove home, to see or think about anything else. Even +Mary Dering did not find time, as she went by, to cast an interested +glance towards that "wonderful flower-girl." There were plenty of +purchasers, however, without the little matinée group,—ladies and +gentlemen just returning from shopping or business,—plenty of +purchasers; and Hope went home with only the sweet sense of success +stirring at her heart,—a success unalloyed by any new bitterness. She +had not needed a shield against tormentors. Thursday and Friday were +equally pleasant and fairly profitable. Saturday would, of course, be +the best day of all, and bring her sales up to almost if not quite the +desired amount. But she dreaded Saturday, for she was quite sure that +"that girl" would be at the station, and she could not help keeping a +nervous look-out from the moment she took her stand in her chosen +corner. The 12.35, the 1, and the 1.15 trains, however, went in, and +Dolly was not to be seen. If she was not on the 1.40 train, there was +little danger, Hope thought, that she would be there at all, for the +1.40 was the last early afternoon train. The next was 3.30, and Hope +would be back at Riverview by that time, preparing another stock of +flowers for her 5.30 sale. Just before the 1.40 steamed in, Hope heard a +gay chatter of voices. There she was! But no; a glance at the party +sufficed to show that Dolly Dering was not one of the party, and Hope +drew a deep breath of relief. The week would end without further +annoyance, and with <i>such</i> a heap of bright silver pieces.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + + +<p>Forgetful of everything disagreeable, Hope stood in her corner for the +last time, softly humming the sweet little strain she had heard from the +good little fiddle. She was earlier than usual,—ten, fifteen minutes +earlier. "Tum, tum, ti tum," she was softly humming, when—</p> + +<p>"Do you stay here all day?" asked a clear, confident voice. She turned +her head, and there stood that girl,—Dolly Dering.</p> + +<p>"No," answered Hope, politely, to this question, but with a coldness and +distance of manner that was meant to check all further questioning. But +Dolly Dering wasn't easily checked.</p> + +<p>"My sister says that you live in Riverview, and that you get your +flowers in Riverview woods," was her next questioning remark.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"What other kinds of flowers are you going to sell when these arbutus +are gone?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to sell any."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Because I—I don't want to."</p> + +<p>"I should think you would. You must make a lot of money."</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>"To be sure, I don't suppose you'd make so much with garden flowers, but +there are ever so many kinds of wild flowers coming on by and by, aren't +there?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you go to school, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh! and this is vacation week at the public schools; that's why you can +be here. I see. What you earn must be a great help, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>Hope's patience and dignity were giving way. She looked up with a fiery +glance.</p> + +<p>"A great help in what?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, why, in your home, you know,—in buying bread and things,—you +know what I mean."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know what you mean," burst forth Hope. "You mean that you think +because I am selling flowers here in the station that I belong to poor +people, who live anyhow,—poor, ignorant people, who are helped by the +missions and the unions,—poor, ignorant people like those at the North +End."</p> + +<p>Dolly Dering stared with all her might at the flushed, excited face +before her.</p> + +<p>"Why—why—you <i>are</i> poor, aren't you, or you wouldn't be selling things +like this?" she blunderingly asked.</p> + +<p>Hope, in her turn, stared back at Dolly. Then in a vehement, exasperated +tone, she said,—</p> + +<p>"I didn't think anybody <i>could</i> be so ignorant as you are."</p> + +<p>"I! ignorant! well!" exclaimed Dolly, in astonishment and rising +resentment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ignorant," went on Hope, recklessly, "or you'd know more about the +difference in people. You'd <i>see</i> the difference. You'd see that I +didn't belong to the kind of poor folks who live any way and anyhow. My +father is John Benham, an engineer on this road, and we have a nice +home, and plenty to eat and drink and to wear,—and books and magazines +and papers," she added, with a sudden instinct that these were the most +convincing proofs of the comfort and respectability of her home.</p> + +<p>"What do you sell flowers on the street for, then, if you are as nice as +all that?" cried Dolly, now thoroughly aroused by Hope's words and +manner.</p> + +<p>"Because I wanted to buy something for myself that my father couldn't +afford to buy. Don't you ever want anything that your father doesn't +feel as if he could buy for you just when you wanted him to?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if I did, I shouldn't be let to go out on the street and peddle +flowers to earn the money," replied Dolly, with what she meant to be +withering emphasis.</p> + +<p>"And I shouldn't be <i>allowed</i> to say 'let to go,' like ignorant North +Enders," retorted Hope, with still more withering emphasis.</p> + +<p>Dolly reddened with mortification and anger; then she said haughtily, "I +don't happen to know as much as you seem to, how ignorant North Enders +talk."</p> + +<p>"No; I told you that you were ignorant, and didn't know the difference +between people."</p> + +<p>"How dare you talk like this to me! You are the most impudent girl I +ever saw," cried Dolly, passionately.</p> + +<p>"Impudent! How did <i>you</i> dare to speak to me as you did,—to ask me +questions? You didn't know me; you never saw me before. You wouldn't +have dared to speak to a girl that you thought was like yourself. But +you thought you could speak to <i>me</i>. You needn't be polite to a girl who +was selling things on the street."</p> + +<p>Hope stopped breathless. Her lips were dry; her heart was beating in +hard, quick throbs. As for Dolly she was for the moment silenced, for +Hope had divined the exact state of her mind. Other things, too, had +silenced Dolly for the moment, and these were the evidences of +respectability that Hope had enumerated. She was also faced by these +evidences in Hope's speech and manner, as those fiery but not vulgar +words were poured forth from the dry, tremulous lips; and the effect had +been confusing and disturbing to those fixed ideas about working-people +that had taken root in her—Dolly's—mind. She was not a bad girl at +heart, was this Dolly. She was like a great many people without keen +perception or sensibility, and thoughtless from this very lack. The +youngest of a prosperous family, she had been petted and pampered until +her natural wilfulness and high spirits had made her heedless and +over-confident. She had not meant to insult Hope. She had meant simply +to satisfy her curiosity; and she thought that it was a perfectly proper +thing to satisfy this curiosity about a poor girl who sold flowers on +the street, by asking this girl plain questions, such as she had heard +her mother ask the poor people who came to get work or to beg. But +Hope's plain answers had at first astonished, then angered, then +enlightened her.</p> + +<p>In the little breathless pause that followed Hope's last words, the two +girls regarded each other with a strange mixture of feeling. Hope's +feeling was that of relief tinctured with triumph, for she saw that she +had made an impression upon "that ignorant girl." Dolly, humiliated but +not humble, had a queer struggle with her temper and her sense of +justice. She had been made to see that she was partly, if not wholly, in +the wrong, and that she had wounded Hope to the quick. In another minute +she would have blunderingly made some admission of this,—have said to +Hope that she was sorry if she had hurt her feelings, or something to +that effect,—if Hope herself had not suddenly remarked in a tone of +cold dislike,—</p> + +<p>"If you are waiting to ask any more questions, I might as well tell you +it's of no use. I sha'n't answer any more; so if you'll please to go +away from this corner and stop staring at me, I shall be much obliged to +you."</p> + +<p>Scarlet with anger, all her better impulses scattered to the winds, +Dolly flashed out,—</p> + +<p>"You're an ugly, impudent, hateful thing, and I don't care if I <i>have</i> +hurt your feelings, so there!"</p> + +<p>It happened that John Benham had exchanged his hours of work for that +day with a fellow engineer on the 5.30 train that came out from Boston. +Dolly, watching the train as it came to a stop at the Brookside station, +saw something that interested her greatly. It was an exchange of glances +between that "ugly, impudent, hateful thing" and the engineer, as he +stood in his cab.</p> + +<p>"So that is her father, is it,—that smutty workman! She'd better set +herself up and talk about her nice home!" was Dolly's inward comment out +of the wrath that was raging within her.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter with Dolly?" asked Mr. Dering, fifteen minutes +later, as Dolly, red and pouting, and with a fierce little frown +wrinkling her forehead, sat in unusual silence beside him on the front +seat of the carriage. Matter? and Dolly, finding her tongue, poured +forth the story of her grievance. With all her faults, Dolly was not +deceitful or untruthful; and the story she told was remarkably exact, +neither glossing over her own words, nor her humiliating defeat through +Hope's cleverness of speech.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dering seemed to find the whole story very amusing, and at the end +of it laughingly remarked: "I don't think you had the best of it, +Dolly."</p> + +<p>Her mother, from the back seat, was mortified and shocked that Dolly +should have been so vulgar as to quarrel on the street.</p> + +<p>"But Dolly began it by asking such questions," spoke up Mary Dering. +"Dolly is such a rattler. I'm sure that flower-girl would never have +spoken to her first."</p> + +<p>Then Mrs. Dering wanted to know what Mary knew about "that flower-girl," +and Mary described Hope as she had seen her.</p> + +<p>"She said her father was an engineer on this road, did she?" asked Mr. +Dering, turning to Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, papa."</p> + +<p>"It must be John Benham. He is one of the best engineers on this +road,"—Mr. Dering was one of the Directors of the road,—"yes, it must +be Benham. I should think he might have just such a child as that."</p> + +<p>"Why, papa?" asked Mary Dering, leaning forward.</p> + +<p>"Well, because he's a proud sort of fellow, rather short of speech; +doesn't give or take any familiar words. But he's an excellent engineer, +excellent, and is full of intelligent ideas. He saved the road from +quite a loss last year by a suggestion of his. He's always tinkering, +I've been told, on one or another of these ideas,—has quite an +inventive faculty, I believe; and some of these days I suppose he hopes, +as so many of these fellows do, to make a fortune out of some invention. +Hey, what do you say to that, Dolly?" turning from this graver talk, and +pulling one of Dolly's black locks. "What do you say to your impudent +little girl turning into a millionaire's daughter one of these days?"</p> + +<p>"I'd say 'Ten cents a bunch' to her!" cried Dolly, vindictively.</p> + +<p>Mr. Dering flung back his head, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"Do you <i>really</i> think he may make a fortune in that way?" asked Mary, +interestedly.</p> + +<p>"Well, no; really I don't, Mary," her father replied. "Such things don't +happen very frequently. Most skilled mechanics, like Benham, make +inventive experiments in their peculiar line, but it's only one in a +thousand who is a genius at that sort of thing, and produces anything +remarkable or valuable enough to bring them a fortune. Benham is a +clever, industrious fellow, but he isn't a genius; so we won't make a +hero for a story out of him, my dear." And Mr. Dering nodded with a +smile at Mary,—a smile that brought a blush to Mary's cheek, for she +knew that papa was making fun of what he called her sentimentality.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + + +<p>Almost at the very moment that Mr. Dering was asking Dolly what was the +matter, John Benham, speeding along in his cab, was mentally asking the +same question in regard to Hope; for, as he caught that glimpse of her +as the train stopped, he saw at once that something was amiss. There was +a strained, excited look about her eyes, and a hot, uncomfortable color +in her cheeks. Had any one been troubling her? His own color rose at the +thought. Why had he allowed her to take such a position? But, thank +Heaven, this was the last night. Two hours after this he put the +question to Hope in words. What was the matter?</p> + +<p>Hope had not meant to tell. She would be brave and keep her annoyance to +herself. But the suddenness of the question broke down her defences, and +she burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"My dear, my dear, what is it? Who is it that has been troubling you? +There, there!" taking her in his arms, "have your cry out, then tell +father all about it."</p> + +<p>Hope was to the full as honest and truthful as Dolly, and her story was +as exact; but she did not, for she could not, do full justice to Dolly, +from the fact that she had not caught the faintest idea of that good +impulse that she herself had nipped in the bud; and without this impulse +Dolly's share in the story looked pretty black, and John Benham, as he +listened to it, did not laugh, as Mr. Dering had done. It was not +amusing to him to hear how his sweet little daughter had been hurt by +all that impertinent questioning. He saw better than Hope that the +impertinence was not malice, and that the ignorance it proceeded from +was that old ignorance that comes from the selfishness that is born of +long-continued prosperity. In trying to convey something of this to +Hope, and to show her that she must not let her mind get poisoned by +dwelling too much upon the matter, he said,—</p> + +<p>"Try to put it out of your mind by thinking of something else."</p> + +<p>Hope lifted her head, and a faint smile irradiated her face.</p> + +<p>"I'll push it out with the good little fiddle," she answered.</p> + +<p>"That's my brave little woman!"</p> + +<p>That very night Hope carried her resolve into action by going over to +see Mr. Kolb to arrange for the purchase of the violin. She had told him +at the first, of the shop where she had seen the instrument that had +taken her fancy, and of her flower-selling plan to buy it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes; it was a very good shop," he had told her, and the plan was a +very good plan, and some day he would go with her to look at the little +fiddle.</p> + +<p>He was quite astonished, however, when, on Saturday night, she ran in to +tell him that her plan had succeeded so well that she wanted him to go +with her on Monday afternoon to buy the little fiddle.</p> + +<p>"What! you haf all the money?" he asked incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Yes; I earned all but two dollars, and that my father gave me."</p> + +<p>The old German threw out his hands with a gesture of surprise. "Ah! you +little American mädchen," he cried, "you do anything!"</p> + +<p>But when, on Monday afternoon, the two set out on their errand, Hope +began to have a misgiving. Perhaps she had made a mistake. Perhaps, +after all, it wasn't a good little fiddle, and she looked anxiously at +Mr. Kolb when he entered the shop with her, and took the instrument in +his hands, for Mr. Kolb would know all about it. And Mr. Kolb <i>did</i> know +all about it. He knew at the first sight of it; and when he lifted the +bow and drew it across the strings, his eyes were smiling with +approbation.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">He lifted the bow and drew it across the strings</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"A good fiddle! ach! it is a peautiful little fiddle!" he exclaimed, as +he ceased playing. Then he complimented Hope by saying: "You haf the +musical eye, as well as ear, Mädchen, to put your heart on this little +fiddle, and we shall haf so good a time, you and I, learning to play +it."</p> + +<p>That night, just after supper, Hope took her first lesson. As she tucked +the little fiddle under her chin, and drew the bow uncertainly and +awkwardly across the strings, her heart beat, and her eyes filled with +joyous tears. The little fiddle for the time quite pushed Dolly Dering +and everything connected with her out of her mind.</p> + +<p>While she was thus happily occupied, her father was busily engaged with +what looked like a toy engine. He was tinkering over one of those ideas +of his, that Mr. Dering had spoken of. This particular idea was +something connected with the speed of the locomotive and the economy of +fuel at one and the same time. Two years before, certain improvements in +this direction had been made, but they were not fully successful, +because they did not combine harmoniously,—what was gained in one +direction being partially lost in another. John Benham's idea was to +invent something that should combine so harmoniously that a high rate of +speed could be attainable with a minimum of fuel.</p> + +<p>When he first started to work out this idea, he was quite confident that +he could carry it through to success; but he had been at it now for +months, and the harmonious combination still evaded him. What was it? +What had he missed? Over and over again he would ask himself this +question, and over and over again he would add here or take away there, +and all without achieving the result he desired. So many failures had at +length beaten down his courageous confidence not a little, and he had +begun to think that he must be on the wrong track altogether, and might +as well give up the whole thing.</p> + +<p>He was thinking this very strongly that Monday night when he sat in his +workshop,—a long, low room he had arranged for himself at the end of +the house. The night was warm for the season, and through the open +doorway he could hear the quavering, uncertain scraping of the little +fiddle.</p> + +<p>"Dear little soul!" he thought; "I hope this good time is paying her for +that bad time of hers."</p> + +<p>If he could only have known how thoroughly it was "paying her,"—that at +that moment the bad time was pushed completely out of mind by the good +time! He hoped that she was comforted; that was the most that he +expected. For himself, nothing had put the story she had told him out of +his mind; and while he sat there adjusting and readjusting the little +model, it was half mechanically,—his thought being more occupied with +his child's painful little experience, and all that it suggested to him. +He was not a bitter or a violent man. He did not think that the poor +were always in the right, and the rich always in the wrong in their +relations with each other, as a good many working-people do. No; he was +too intelligent for that. But what he did think, what he <i>knew</i> was, +that the rich were not hampered and hindered by the daily struggle for +existence, for the means to procure food and clothing and shelter from +week to week. He knew that his own abilities were hindered and hampered +by the necessity that compelled him to work almost incessantly for the +necessaries of life. If he could have had only a little of the leisure +of the rich, a little of their money, he could have had constantly at +his hand, not merely the books that he needed, and the time to study +them, but various other ways and opportunities would have been open to +him to follow out his strong taste for mechanical construction. As it +was, he had been obliged to grope along slowly, working at odd times +after his labor of the day, and generally at some disadvantage, either +in the lack of proper tools, or needed books of reference directly at +his hand. All these thoughts bore down upon him that night with greater +force than usual, because of Hope's story; for here it was again in +another direction, that difference between the rich and the poor. And +while he thought these thoughts, scrape, scrape, went Hope's bow across +the strings.</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that, John?" asked Mrs. Benham as she came into the +workshop.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I've been listening to it for some time." There was an absent +expression in John Benham's eyes, as he glanced up. His wife noticed it.</p> + +<p>"You look tired, John. I wouldn't bother over that"—with a nod at the +engine model—"any more."</p> + +<p>"No; I've about made up my mind to give it up. I don't seem to be on the +right track with it, anyhow."</p> + +<p>There was a depressed, discouraged note in the husband's voice that his +wife at once detected. It was a new note for her to hear in that voice. +She regarded him anxiously a moment, and then, smiling, but with a good +deal of real earnestness, said,—</p> + +<p>"Don't fret about it, John. Hope, maybe, 'll make all our fortunes yet. +Mr. Kolb told me that she had a wonderful ear for music, and would be a +fine performer some day."</p> + +<p>"Fortunes! 't isn't money only, Martha; I hate to give up a thing like +this. I felt so sure of myself when I started; and—and—it is failure, +you see; and failure is harder to bear than the hardest kind of labor. +I've always thought, you know, that I was cut out for this sort of +thing,—this inventive business,—but it looks as though I had been more +conceited than anything else, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"No, no; it doesn't, John. Your worst enemy couldn't say that you were +conceited. But you've had so little chance, so little time; that's +what's the trouble. But you haven't come to the end yet, and I didn't +mean that I wanted you to give up trying. I only meant that I wouldn't +bother over <i>that</i>. You must start something new; that's all I meant, +John," cried Mrs. Benham, full of affectionate sympathy and repentance.</p> + +<p>"Oh! I understand, Martha; I understand. What you said didn't discourage +me. I dare say I shall tinker away at something again by and by; but +<i>this</i> thing"—striking the model a little blow with his hand—"is a +failure."</p> + +<p>At that moment the door-bell rang, and Mrs. Benham hurried away to +answer its summons. Left alone, her husband stretched out his hand +towards the model, and opened the door of its fire-box. There was still +a tiny bed of coals there.</p> + +<p>"We'll have a last run," he said, with a half-smile; and opening the +steam-valve, he saw the beautiful little model start once more on its +way along the rails he had laid for it upon the work-bench that ran +around the room. As he had constructed a self-acting pressure that +should close the steam-valve at a certain point, the model was under as +perfect control from where he stood as if it were of larger proportions, +and he were managing and directing it from its engine cab. A look of +pride, followed by an expression of sadness, flickered over the +builder's face, as he watched it. Where <i>had</i> he failed?</p> + +<p>Round and round the course the pretty thing sped, not at any headlong +speed, but at the pace that had been set for it, to prove or disprove +the effectiveness of the combination. Click, click, how smoothly it ran! +everything apparently perfect, from the wheels to the wire-netted flues. +If only—But what—what is that? and John Benham starts forward with +sudden eager attention. His quick ear has caught a slight sound that he +had not heard before, so slight that only <i>his</i> ear would have detected +it. The machine was on its finishing round; three seconds more, and the +self-acting steam-valve has shut, the engine slows up to a stop, and its +builder, with a quickened pulse, bends eagerly forward.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + + +<p>Perhaps it is five minutes later that the wife opens the door again. +"John, who do you think has just called?" She receives no answer. "Dear +me!" she says vexedly to herself, "he's worrying at that machine again. +I wish he'd give it up. John!" Still no answer. Mrs. Benham walks into +the room. "John, I wish—" But as she catches sight of her husband's +face, which is pale, and changed by some strong feeling, she forgets +what she was about to say, and exclaims in a troubled tone, "What is it? +What is the matter, John?"</p> + +<p>He starts and turns to her. Matter? A half-smile stirs his lips, and he +points to the engine without another word.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Benham is frightened. She thinks to herself: "This constant worry +over that thing is turning his head; he will lose his mind. Oh, John!" +she cries, "if you would only come away and rest and give this up, if +only for a little while! I—I—" and poor Mrs. Benham's voice breaks, +and the tears rush to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Martha, Martha, you don't understand. My worry is all over,—all over. +The thing is a success,—a success, Martha, and not a failure!"</p> + +<p>"What—why—when I went out—"</p> + +<p>"When you went out a while ago, I'd given it up, and I thought I'd say +good-bye to it in a last run, and on that run I heard a new sound. Look +here, Martha, do you see that link in the valve gearing? I thought I had +taken every pains to suspend it properly. Well, it seems I hadn't. I +suspended it in the usual way, and it worked in the usual way; but it +turns out that wasn't the way to work with my new injector, and there is +where the hitch was. Do you remember when I brought my hand down on the +machine when we were talking? I must have displaced this delicate little +bolt or pin that you see here, at that blow, and in that way put the +link—it is what is called a shifting link—into the right position to +work my injector combination. This little change of position makes +everything clear as daylight, and I can put this little beauty into fine +shape now; fasten the bolts and pins permanently instead of temporarily, +for I don't need any more changes. It will do its double work of speed +and fuel-saving every time; for see there!"—and the exultant builder +pointed to some almost infinitesimal figures in two different portions +of the engine. They were the registers that proved the result of this +last triumphant run, and the complete success of his invention.</p> + +<p>The tears were still in Mrs. Benham's eyes, but they were tears of joy. +"It seems too good to be true," she faltered.</p> + +<p>"And I thought the other thing—the failure—too bad to be true," he +returned. Then smiling a little, "I shall name it 'Hope,'" he said.</p> + +<p>"And it is Hope that will make our fortunes, after all; for this will +make a fortune, won't it, John?" inquired Mrs. Benham, looking up into +her husband's face eagerly. But he didn't hear her. His thoughts had +gone back to that valve gearing, and the link that had been so happily +put in place.</p> + +<p>She touched his arm, and repeated her question.</p> + +<p>"Fortune?" He turned from his loving contemplation of the thing that he +had builded. It seemed almost human to him. "Fortune,—I don't know," he +answered absently.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Benham did not repeat her question again. She saw, as she glanced +at her husband's face, that it would be of no use, for she saw that just +for the present he was all absorbed in the delight that had come to him, +in the successful accomplishment of his undertaking. This was joy enough +for him at the moment. He had often said to her when she had advised him +not to tire himself out pottering over things that might not bring him a +penny, that he loved the work for itself, independent of anything else. +And it was the work that he was thinking of now, not the possible +financial results. But by and by—and Mrs. Benham's thoughts went +wandering off into that by and by, when these results would take +tangible form. Her ideas, however, were extremely modest. This fortune +that she had in her mind, that she saw before her at that instant, was +very limited. Harry Richards, an old friend of her husband's, had made a +comfortable little sum out of an improvement upon car-window fastenings, +and it was some such comfortable little sum that Mrs. Benham was +thinking of. A little sum that would be sufficient, perhaps, to pay at +once what mortgage there was still left upon their little home, to buy a +new carpet for the parlor, and the books her husband needed, and to give +Hope all the instruction she wanted upon the violin, from Mr. Kolb, or +any other teacher, at the teacher's price.</p> + +<p>Just at this point of her thought, a quick, flying step was heard, and a +quick, humming voice,—a little sweet, thready sound, as near like a +violin tone as the owner could make it,—and the next minute Hope +appeared in the workshop rosy and radiant.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Kolb says," she broke out, dropping her humming violin note, "that +I shall make a very good little fiddler some day if I 'haf patience,'" +gayly imitating the old German's pronunciation. "He says—" But +something in her father's absorbed attitude, in her mother's expression, +stopped her. "What is it? what has happened?" she inquired, looking from +one to the other.</p> + +<p>"Your father has got the little engine all right."</p> + +<p>"It does just what he wanted it to do?" asked Hope, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, just what he wanted it to do."</p> + +<p>Hope danced about the room, humming her little thready violin note. Her +father, roused from his reverie, looked up at her, and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well, Hope, the little fiddle was a success, eh?"</p> + +<p>"And the little engine too;" and the girl danced up to her father, +humming her note of gladness.</p> + +<p>"Yes, the little engine too."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Benham, looking across the work-bench at her husband and daughter, +nodded and laughed at them.</p> + +<p>"You're just alike,—you two," she said. "There's nothing now but the +little engine and the little fiddle. But how does it happen, Hope, that +Mr. Kolb could give you such a long lesson? Didn't he go in to play at +the concert to-night?"</p> + +<p>"No; he has a cold, and his nephew, Karl, is to take his place. It is +Karl, you know, who teaches at the Conservatory; and Mr. Kolb says that +some time, when he gets too old and rheumatic to go out in the evening, +he may give up orchestra-playing altogether, and take to teaching like +Karl."</p> + +<p>"Well, he'll have to get more profitable pupils than Hope Benham in that +case," said Mrs. Benham, laughingly.</p> + +<p>"Mother, do you think—is it taking too much—from—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, Hope," interrupted her mother. "I don't think anything of the +kind. Mr. Kolb meant what he said when he told you he'd like to give you +lessons. Don't you fret about that; father will pay him some time."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps <i>I'll</i> pay him when—" But Mrs. Benham did not stop to hear the +end of her daughter's sentence. A patter of rain-drops caught her ear, +and she hurried away to close the upper windows. Hope turned to her +father with her new idea; she was aglow with it.</p> + +<p>"Farver," she began, using her old baby pronunciation, as she was in the +habit of doing now and then,—"Farver, Mr. Kolb says if I practise hard, +I may get to play the little fiddle at a concert some day, and earn +money, and then—then, I shall pay Mr. Kolb for teaching me, farver."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that is your plan? Hope, the little fiddle has done a good work +already. It has pushed all that bad time out of your mind, hasn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, it has pushed it away—away—oh! ever so much further; but, +farver," and Hope put her head down on her father's shoulder, +"I—I—don't ever want to see that girl again."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father knows;" and drawing her closer to him, John Benham stroked +his daughter's sleek brown head with a soft caressing touch.</p> + +<p>And father <i>did</i> know. He knew that the little daughter was having her +first experience of the world, and the way it made its separations, its +class distinctions between rich and poor and high and low. He was not +envious or jealous or bitter, but he was very observant and thoughtful, +and he could not help seeing how ignorantly made were some of these +distinctions, and how unchristian. He knew that his little Hope was +intelligent and refined,—the fit companion for any refined child, +however placed in the world; and he knew that he himself was a fit +companion for intelligent, thoughtful men, however placed,—for, though +obliged to be a hard worker since he came a boy of fifteen from his +father's farm, he had found time to think and read and study, and he was +conscious that he had read and studied and thought to some purpose, and +that his thought was worth something; yet because of this way that the +world had of separating people without regard to their real natures or +their real tastes, but solely in regard to the accidents of poverty or +family influence, he was debarred from acquaintanceship on true, equal +terms with many who would naturally have been his companions and +friends, and whose companionship would have been of service to him, as +his would have been of service to them, from the different knowledge +that had come to each, from their different experiences. And here was +Hope—he looked down at her as his thoughts came to this point—here was +Hope, his cherished little daughter, so fine, so sweet. Was that girl of +the world's so-called higher class, whose blunt speech had hurt so +deeply,—was <i>she</i> a fit companion for his little daughter?</p> + +<p>He bent down and put his lips to the sleek brown head, as he asked this +question. Then he saw that the child was asleep; but his movement roused +her, and, stirring uneasily, she murmured in her dreams, "Ten cents a +bunch!" then, half awakening, cried, "Farver, farver, I don't ever want +to see that girl again."</p> + +<p>"No, no, you sha'n't. It's all over, dear. We're not going to have any +more of that 'Ten cents a bunch!'—never any more of it," he repeated +consolingly, but with an emphasis of indignation and self-reproach.</p> + +<p>But he was mistaken. Neither he nor Hope had heard the last of that "Ten +cents a bunch!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + + +<p>To be a pupil in Miss Marr's school was a distinction in itself. "Why +don't you give and write your name 'Mademoiselle Marr,' as you have a +right to do?" asked one of Miss Marr's acquaintances, when the school +was first started.</p> + +<p>Miss Marr laughed; then she answered soberly, "When my father came to +America, he made himself a legal citizen of the country and he fought in +its battles. He never called himself, and he was never called by any +one, 'Monsieur.'"</p> + +<p>"Because he bore the title of General."</p> + +<p>"Not at first,—not until he had earned it here. But I—I was born and +brought up here, and I have been always Miss Marr here. Why should I now +suddenly change to Mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"Because it would be of benefit to your school. Americans are attracted +by anything foreign, and Mademoiselle Marr's school would sound so much +more distinguished than Miss Marr's school."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" and Miss Marr flung up her hands impatiently; "I am a better +American than these foolish people who like foreign titles so much. But +they shall come to me, they shall send their children to Miss Marr's +school. I am not going to begin with any little tricks,—to throw out +any little bait to catch silly folk, for it is not such folk's patronage +that I want. I am going to keep an honest school, and I shall start as I +mean to go on."</p> + +<p>The acquaintance sighed, and shook her head, and told all her friends +how obstinate Miss Marr was, how she had been advised and how she had +gone against the advice, and that the school wouldn't come to anything, +would get no start as Miss Marr's school, whereas as Mademoiselle Marr's +it would at once impress everybody.</p> + +<p>But Miss Marr went on in her own way, and at the end of five years there +was no school in all New York that had the kind of high reputation that +hers had. It was, in a certain sense, the fashion, and yet it was not +fashionable.</p> + +<p>"It's that French way of hers, after all," said the acquaintance whose +advice had not been taken; "it's that French way that she inherited from +the General. Nobody had finer manners than General Marr, and he had the +qualities of a leader, too, in some ways,—though he never could keep +any money; and these qualities also his daughter inherits."</p> + +<p>Miss Marr laughed at this explanation when she was told of it,—laughed, +and declared that the only secret of her success lay in the fact that +she liked her work, and put her whole heart into it. And I'm inclined to +think she was right. If she got a start at first because she was General +Marr's daughter, she held it and made much of it because she had +character and purpose. She put her heart into her work, and that meant +that she put the magic of her lively sympathy and interest into it; and +if she had not possessed this character and purpose, she couldn't have +done what she did, even if she had been the daughter of an even more +distinguished man than General Marr. She had said in the beginning: "I +am not going to model my school after any fashionable pattern, for I +don't care to have what is called a fashionable school, and I don't +solicit fashionable patronage. There are plenty of quiet, cultivated +people in New York and elsewhere who, I am sure, want just such a school +as I mean to have,—a sensible, honest school, that shall give a +sensible, honest, all-round education." And she was right, as events +proved. The quiet, cultivated people came forth at once to her support; +and then the queerest thing happened,—the fashionable folk began to +come forward too, and in such numbers that she couldn't accommodate half +of them, and they, instead of accepting the situation, and going +elsewhere at this crisis, patiently bided their time, waiting until a +vacancy occurred. It will readily be understood that when things had +come to this pass, it was considered a most decided distinction to be a +pupil at Miss Marr's school.</p> + +<p>It was just at the climax of this popularity, just before the beginning +of a new year, that a certain young lady said to her younger sister,—</p> + +<p>"Now, Dorothy"—</p> + +<p>"Doro<i>thea</i>! Doro<i>thea</i>! I'm going to have my whole name, every syllable +of it, to start off in New York with."</p> + +<p>"Well, Dorothea, then; you must remember one thing about Miss Marr,—she +won't put up with any of your flippant smartness."</p> + +<p>"She needn't."</p> + +<p>"But, Dorothea, you won't be punished, and you won't be allowed to +argue, as you did at Miss Maynard's. It will be like this,—Miss Marr +will let you go on and reveal yourself and all your faults without a +word of comment, as she would if you were a guest; then if she finds +that you or your faults are of the kind that she doesn't care to have in +her school, she'll send you home. She says, you know, that her school is +neither an infant school, nor a reform school,—that by the time girls +are fifteen, they are young ladies enough to have some idea of good +breeding, and if they haven't, they are not the sort of girls that she +wants in her school. Now remember that, Dorothea."</p> + +<p>"I never heard of a school-teacher putting on such airs as this Miss +Marr does, in my life. It's always what <i>she</i> wants, what <i>she</i> expects, +what <i>she</i> is going to do. I know I shall hate her!"</p> + +<p>"Well, if this is the spirit that you propose to start with, it is very +easy to foresee the result."</p> + +<p>"I don't care."</p> + +<p>"Now, Dorothea, you <i>do</i> care. Just think—your name has been on the +list for a whole year for this vacancy; and it was your own idea, you +know. Nothing would satisfy you but to go to Miss Marr's."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know, I know; don't preach, you dear Molly Polly! I'm not going +to fly at Miss Marr and call her an old cat, if I think she's one."</p> + +<p>"No, I should say not, but you mustn't fly at a good many things,—at +certain rules and regulations, for instance,—and you mustn't take any +saucy little liberties, such as you have been in the habit of taking at +Miss Maynard's."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not a liberty!" smiling and nodding at her elder sister. "I shall +pull my face down like this"—drawing down her lips and lowering her +eyes—"when I meet the great Miss Marr, and I shall say, in a little bit +of a frightened voice like this, 'Oh, Miss Marr, Miss Marr, <i>please</i> +don't shut me up in a dark closet and put me on bread and water, +whatever I do.'"</p> + +<p>"What a goose you are, Dorothy!" but the elder sister laughed.</p> + +<p>"Doro<i>thea</i>! Doro<i>thea</i>! remember now it's to be Doro<i>thea</i>, and you +must write Doro<i>thea</i> on the envelopes of your letters to me," was the +swift protest.</p> + +<p>Three days after this conversation, Dolly, or Dorothea Dering, sat +waiting with her mother in a handsome but rather old-fashioned-looking +parlor in a rather old-fashioned house in New York, for the appearance +of its hostess, Miss Marr. Dolly had been fidgeting about, examining the +ornaments on the tables and the pictures on the walls, with a mingled +expression of curiosity and irritability on her face, when she caught +the sound of a firm even footfall on the polished oak floor of the hall. +The girl made a little face at this firm, even sound, and said to +herself, "It's just like her,—old Madam Prim!"</p> + +<p>In another moment the footsteps came to the threshold of the parlor, and +Dolly looked across the room to see—Why, there was some mistake! This +was one of the pupils, and no Madam Prim; and what a stylish girl, what +a stunning plain gown! thought Dolly. The minute after, "the stylish +girl in the stunning plain gown" was saying, "How do you do, Mrs. +Dering?" and Mrs. Dering was saying, "How do you do, Miss Marr?"</p> + +<p>Dolly almost gasped with astonishment. "<i>This</i>, Miss Marr! Why, she +didn't look any older than Mary."</p> + +<p>The fact was, that Miss Marr was seven years older than Mary Dering, who +was only twenty-three; but Angelique Marr was one of those persons who +never look their age. Though not childish or immature, she had a fresh +girl's aspect. In looking at her, Dolly forgot all her little plans for +saying or doing this or that. Miss Marr looking at <i>her</i> said to +herself: "Poor child! how shy and awkward and overgrown she is!" and +forthwith concluded that it would be better not to notice her much for a +time, and therefore gave all her attention to the mother, bestowing a +swift fleeting smile now and then upon the girl,—a <i>young</i> smile, like +that of a comrade in passing. Dolly was out of all her reckoning; her +program of word and action which she had so carefully arranged being +completely destroyed by this surprise of personality,—this substitution +of the "stylish girl in a stunning plain gown" for an old Madam Prim. So +absorbed was she in these thoughts, she heard but vaguely what her +mother was saying, and was quite startled when the moment of parting +from her came, forgetting all the fine little airs and good-bye messages +she had arranged. She was so dazed, indeed, that she seemed stupid, and +impressed Miss Marr more than ever as shy and awkward and overgrown; and +it was out of pity for this shyness that Angelique Marr, as the door +closed upon Mrs. Dering, turned to Mrs. Dering's daughter with her +sweetest and friendliest of young smiles, and said to her,—</p> + +<p>"Would you like to come up to my little parlor and have a cup of +chocolate with me before I show you your room?"</p> + +<p>As Dolly accepted the invitation, she had an odd subdued sort of +feeling, as if she had been invited to lunch with one of Mary's fine +young lady friends; and this feeling, instead of wearing off, increased, +as she found herself in the little parlor drinking the most delicious +foamy chocolate from a delicate Sèvres cup, while her entertainer helped +her to biscuit or extra lumps of sugar, telling, as she did so, a droll +little story about her first lesson in chocolate brewing from an old +French soldier,—a friend of her father.</p> + +<p>Dolly listened and laughed, and felt more and more that she was being +treated in a very grown-up way by a very grown-up young lady, and that +she must be equal to the occasion; so she sat up in her chair with a +great deal of dignity, and endeavored to say the proper things in the +proper places, with a delightful sense that she was doing the thing as +well as Mary. It was at this moment that some one knocked at the door; +and at Miss Marr's "Come in," there appeared a tall youth, who cried out +as he entered,—</p> + +<p>"Well, Aunt Angel!"</p> + +<p>"What! Victor?"</p> + +<p>Then followed embraces and inquiries; and Dolly began to feel out of +place, and the stranger that she was, when Miss Marr turned, smiled, +begged her pardon, and introduced her to her nephew,—Victor Graham, who +was just back from his vacation at Moosehead Lake. With the grace and +tact that people called "that French way" of hers, Miss Marr managed to +include Dolly in the conversation, and, finding that she had spent +several summers at Kineo, the Moosehead Lake region, drew her out by +clever questions to tell what she knew about it. And Dolly knew a great +deal about it; she had paddled a canoe on the lake, she had caught fish +and helped cook them on the shore, and she had camped out in the Kineo +woods.</p> + +<p>Victor Graham, tall as he was, was only sixteen,—a real boy who loved +out-of-door sports,—and, delighted to find somebody who was so familiar +with the charmed region he had just reluctantly left, was soon in the +full swing of reminiscences and questions. Had she been to this place, +did she know that point, etc., etc.? In short, he felt as if he had met +a comrade, and he treated her as such,—as a boy like himself; and Dolly +for the moment responded in the same spirit, and forgot her stiff +dignity and young lady manners, patterned after her sister Mary's.</p> + +<p>Miss Marr sat back in her chair, looking and listening and smiling. +Dolly had not the least idea that she was reading, as one would read in +a book, a little page of Dorothea Dering. But she was. Dolly, in talking +to Victor, forgot, as I have said, her dignity and young-lady manners, +and was the Dolly Dering who romped and raced and paddled and cooked at +Moosehead Lake.</p> + +<p>"Not so very awkward, and not shy at all, but a big overgrown girl, who +may one day be an attractive woman, when she is toned down and less +crude and hoydenish."</p> + +<p>This was part of Miss Marr's reading as she looked and listened; and as +Dolly, getting more excited with her subject, went on more glibly, her +silent smiling listener thought,—</p> + +<p>"A good deal of a spoiled child evidently, who has been used to having +her own way and been laughed at for her smart sayings until she is quite +capable, I fear, of being rude and overbearing, if not unfeeling on +occasions. But I think there is good material underneath. We'll see, +we'll see."</p> + +<p>What would Dolly have said if she could have heard this criticism of +Dorothea Dering? What would Mrs. Dering have said if she could have +heard her daughter called capable of being rude and overbearing? What +would Mary have said to the whole summing up,—Mary, who was not of the +kind ever to have been spoiled by indulgence, who was finer and had +better instincts than Dolly? Mary would have said, "Oh, Dolly, Dolly, +what have I always told you?"</p> + +<p>Just as Miss Marr came to the conclusion of these reflections, she +looked up at the clock on the mantel, and gave a quick start. Victor, +following the direction of her eyes, stopped the story of camp-life that +he was telling, and jumped to his feet, saying,—</p> + +<p>"Do excuse me, Aunt Angel; I'd no idea it was so late."</p> + +<p>Dolly's face fell like a disappointed child, and she burst out +impatiently,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, finish the story, finish the story!"</p> + +<p>Victor Graham gave her a glance of surprise; then, flushing a little, +said gently,—</p> + +<p>"This is Aunt Angel's busy hour; I'll finish the story some other time."</p> + +<p>The blood mounted to Dolly's forehead. That glance of surprise pricked +her sharply. It angered her too. Who was this boy to set his priggish +manners above hers? And in hot rebellion, she cried out flippantly,—</p> + +<p>"No, no, tell it now, tell it now! Ten minutes longer can't make much +difference."</p> + +<p>She had been accustomed to persist in this fashion at home; and beyond a +"Dolly, how impolite!" or "Be quiet, Dolly!" spoken at the moment by +father or mother or Mary, not much further notice was taken of her +offence. But neither Miss Marr nor Victor made the slightest suggestion +of a reproving comment now. They made no comment whatever. The boy +simply stared at her a second, then lowered his eyes, showing clearly +that he was embarrassed by the girl's rudeness. Miss Marr looked at her +with an expression of wondering astonishment that was in itself a shock +and a revelation to Dolly. There was not a particle of personal +resentment in this expression; it was the wondering astonishment of a +person who is regarding for the first time some strange new species of +development. Dolly had hitherto gloried in her impertinence, as +something witty and audacious. Now all at once she was made to see that +to another person, and that person this "stylish girl in a stunning +plain gown," this audacious impertinence looked vulgar. The shock of +this revelation was so sudden to Miss Dolly that all self-possession +deserted her, and again Miss Marr saw her apparently shy and awkward and +speechless. The deep red flush that overspread her face at the same time +added to the appearance of shyness, and pleaded for her more than words +would have done.</p> + +<p>"She'd be a jolly girl, if she didn't break up into such Hottentot ways. +I wonder where she came from?" was Victor's inward reflection. His +concluding reflection, as he went out of the house, was, "Wonder what +Aunt Angel will do with her."</p> + +<p>Aunt Angel wondered, too, as she accompanied Dolly up to the room that +had been arranged for her; and as she wondered, she could not help +thinking, "How glad I am the girl is going to have a room to herself, +and not with any one of the other girls!"</p> + +<p>The room was small, but it was charmingly furnished,—a little pink and +white chamber, with all sorts of pretty contrivances for comfort and +convenience. As Dolly looked about her, when Miss Marr closed the door +upon her, she thought of what her mother had said, after inspecting the +room the day before: "It isn't in the least like a boarding-school,—it +is like a visitor's room, Dolly, as you will see."</p> + +<p>And Dolly did see, but she was in no mood to enjoy the pretty details +just then, for the sense of humiliation was weighing heavily upon her. +In vain she tried to blow it away with the breath of anger,—to call +Miss Marr "old Madam Prim," and Victor "that prig of a boy." Nothing of +this kind availed to relieve her. Never in her life had she been so +impressed by anybody as by Miss Marr, and she was also sure that she had +also begun to impress Miss Marr, in her turn. And now and now!—and down +on the pink and white bed Dolly flung herself in a paroxysm of mingled +regret, rage, mortification, and disappointment, and, like the big, +overgrown, undisciplined child that she was, sobbed herself to sleep.</p> + +<p>The short October afternoon had come nearly to an end when she woke; and +she looked about her in dismay. It must be late; and, springing up, she +glanced at her watch. It was half-past four. At this moment she heard, +in the hall outside, a murmur of girls' voices. One called, "Miss Marr;" +and another said, "The Boston train was delayed, or I should have been +here earlier."</p> + +<p>Then followed a soft tinkle of laughter, a little tap of heels, and an +opening and shutting of doors. Dolly, listening, knew what this +meant,—knew that these girls were the late arrivals, the returning +pupils.</p> + +<p>"And they all know each other," she commented rather lonesomely and +enviously, "and I shall dress myself and get down before them. I'm not +going to enter a room full of strange girls, if I know it!"</p> + +<p>Dolly's taste was generally excellent. She knew what to wear and when to +wear it; but some mistaken idea of outshining those strange girls at the +start took possession of her, and instead of putting on a gown suited to +the occasion, she donned a fine affair,—a combination of old-rose +cashmere and velvet, with rose ribbons at her throat. As she left the +room in this finery, she saw a door farther down the hall open, and a +tall slender girl, dressed with the severest simplicity, come forth.</p> + +<p>One of those strange girls! And Dolly, as they met, stared at her, with +her head in the air. But the strange girl, with a matter of course +manner, gave a little courteous inclination of greeting as she passed, +whereat Dolly grew rather red. "I wonder if that is the girl who talked +about 'my train,'" thought Dolly. "I'll bet it is. She has a look like +that girl I saw one day last spring with the Edlicotts at Papanti's +dancing-school. I wonder what her name is."</p> + +<p>As the girl ran lightly down the stairs, one of the maids came up. Dolly +stopped her and asked, "Is that one of the pupils?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss."</p> + +<p>"What is her name?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Hope Benham."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + + +<p>Miss Hope Benham! It was five years since Dolly's encounter with Hope in +the Brookside station, and four years since she had heard her or the +name of Benham referred to. This later reference was made by Mr. Dering +one morning at the breakfast-table.</p> + +<p>"Well, Dolly," he had suddenly said, glancing up from his newspaper, +"that little flower-girl who got the better of you last season is in +luck."</p> + +<p>Dolly looked up with a puzzled expression.</p> + +<p>"What! you've forgotten the little girl at the Brookside station who +told you how ignorant and bad-mannered you were?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Ten-cents-a-bunch!" shouted Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, little Ten-cents-a-bunch. Well, her father, the engineer, is on +the high road to fortune by a certain successful invention of his. Now, +what do you say to that?"</p> + +<p>"Ten-cents-a-bunch," repeated Dolly, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that Mr. Benham, the engineer you told us of last season?" asked +Mary, with interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's the man. He has procured a patent on a valuable invention +of his, and is going to be a rich man by means of it. He's a much +cleverer fellow than I thought. I heard him speak the other night before +the Scientific Mechanics' Association, and it was a very intelligent +speech, full of scientific knowledge, and showing a great deal of +ability."</p> + +<p>"And last year, father, you laughed at me for asking you if he had this +ability."</p> + +<p>Mr. Dering shook his head with a comic smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, Mary, we are all liable to mistakes. I've seen so much of +this inventive ambition that came to nothing, I've grown to be cautious +in my judgments."</p> + +<p>"Of course he isn't running an engine now?"</p> + +<p>"Bless you, no. He's off to Europe this month. He's made some contract +with a firm in France for the use of his invention. They had heard of it +through a former fellow-workman of Benham's,—another clever fellow, yet +not a genius like Benham, though he has gained for himself quite an +important position as an inspector of locomotives abroad; but there is +an account of the whole thing in the morning's paper."</p> + +<p>Dolly listened to this talk with a very divided attention. She had a big +picnic on her mind, and all other matters were of very little importance +beside that. It was thus that Ten-cents-a-bunch and the name of Benham +were quite overborne for the time by this interest. After four years +more of picnics and other pleasurings, Dolly heard the name again +without the slightest recognition, and in the tall young girl of +fifteen, with her womanly face and her hair wound into a knot +at the back of her head, she received no suggestion of little +Ten-cents-a-bunch.</p> + +<p>And how was it with Hope? Hope remembered. The last four years of her +life had been passed abroad, most of them in France, where she had been +at school in Paris, while her father and mother were established near +by,—her father taking advantage of the great opportunities Paris +offered him for scientific study. It was a happy time for all of them, +and in this happy time Hope forgot some earlier deprivations and +discomforts, or at least forgot the smart of them; but she never forgot +that encounter at the Brookside station, which was to her her first +close experience of the world's class distinctions. Neither had she ever +forgotten the face of "that girl;" and when, coming out of her room at +Miss Marr's, she looked down the hall and saw those big black eyes and +that confident expression, she at once, in spite of the change in +Dolly's height and breadth, recognized her.</p> + +<p>But the five years had matured and educated Hope so much that the thrill +which accompanied this recognition was not that shrinking of fear and +dislike which had once overcome her. It was now the ordinary pang of +repulsion that one feels in meeting something or somebody connected with +what was once painful; and there was an expression of this feeling in +her face, as she entered the library downstairs. Two or three girls were +already assembled there; and as Hope responded warmly to their +affectionate greetings, one of them exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"There! now you look like yourself. When you came in, you had a +stand-off sort of air, and a little hard pucker between your eyes, as if +you were expecting to confront an army of enemies."</p> + +<p>Hope laughed; and presently the whole group were off on a regular girl +chat, telling the story of their long summer vacation in the most +animated manner. They were in the thick of this, when some one pushed +the portière aside, with the uncertain touch of a strange hand, and a +strange voice asked constrainedly,—</p> + +<p>"Is this a private sitting-room?"</p> + +<p>The girls all turned to look at the speaker, and there was a half moment +of silence. Then Kate Van der Berg answered politely,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; it is the library, where we all come when we like."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know where to go;" and Dolly came forward, trying to look +indifferent and at her ease, and succeeding only in looking rather huffy +and uncomfortable. The first glance she had received was not reassuring. +The four girls whose chat she had interrupted were all dressed in the +simplest manner, with no frills and furbelows anywhere; and that first +glance of theirs at the new-comer's fine gown was a glance of surprise +that there was no mistaking. The fact of it was, every girl of them, as +she caught sight of Dolly, supposed for the moment that she was a guest +of Miss Marr's; and when enlightened to the contrary by Dolly's own +words, every girl of them involuntarily gave another glance of surprise.</p> + +<p>They were well trained, however, and presently endeavored to make the +new pupil feel at home; but it was rather up-hill work naturally. +Luckily at this crisis, Miss Marr appeared, to adjust matters.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she exclaimed, glancing brightly at Dolly, "you found your way +down all alone. I went to your room a little while ago; and as you were +asleep, I didn't disturb you."</p> + +<p>Then, with the same bright look and manner, she introduced the girls to +Dolly, and stood talking with them all for a few minutes. When she +turned to leave them, a general protest arose, Kate Van der Berg crying +out,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no! don't go yet, Miss Marr! Just think, we haven't had a sight +of you for three months, and we are positively hungry for you, aren't +we, Hope?" appealing to Hope Benham, who was standing near her.</p> + +<p>Hope made no reply in words, but she gave a quick upward look and smile +which spoke more eloquently than any words. Dolly, observant of +everything, saw not only this look and smile, but the answering look and +smile in Miss Marr's eloquent face; and instantly a little sharp feeling +of something akin to both jealousy and envy disturbed her. Not to lead +off and take a first place was a new experience to Dolly, and she did +not enjoy it. At home in Brookside or Boston she had always easily led +off in this way, partly on account of her belonging to a family whose +acquaintance was large, and partly on account of her dominant desire. +But here she found herself for the first time amongst strangers, who +knew nothing about her, and to whom she was of no importance. An uneasy +sense of all this had begun to assail her before she left Miss Marr's +little parlor. It deepened as she entered the library and met the three +pairs of eyes turned upon her and her fine gown. It deepened still more +as she saw that swift exchange of tender glances between Miss Marr and +Hope; and the little imp of jealousy straightway sprang up with its +unreasonable suggestions that she was not treated with sufficient +consideration, that she was, in fact, neglected, and left out in the +cold, when she should, as the new-comer, have received assiduous +attention. That she, the daughter of the Hon. James Dering, should be +thus coolly set aside! It was at this climax of her resentful feeling +that Miss Marr happened to look across at her. She caught at once +something of the true state of things,—not everything, but enough to +show her that the girl felt awkward and uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"Poor thing!" she thought; "she doesn't get on well at all. I must ask +Hope to help me with her. She, if anybody, will be able to make her feel +easier and more at home."</p> + +<p>There was no opportunity to speak with Hope then, for down the hall came +tap, tapping, another little company of heels, and presently the +portière was flung aside, and a troop of girls entered, and rushing up +to Miss Marr, claimed her attention, with their gay and affectionate +greetings. No, no time then to speak to any one privately and specially, +only time to mention Dolly's name,—"Miss Dorothea Dering, girls,"—only +time for this before the clock rung out the hour of six; and at the last +stroke Miss Marr turned her head from the girls, who were flocking about +her, and looked back at Hope Benham.</p> + +<p>"Hope, will you take Dorothea—Miss Dering—in to dinner?"</p> + +<p>Miss Marr did not see the change in Hope's face,—the sudden stiffening, +as it were, of every feature; but Kate Van der Berg saw it. It was the +same kind of stiffness that she had noticed when Hope came into the +library,—the rigid stiffness that she had called a "stand-off sort of +air," and there was that little hard pucker again between the eyes.</p> + +<p>"Hope will take her in to dinner and be as polite to her as a Chinese +mandarin, but she won't 'take' to her in any other way," was Miss Kate's +shrewd reflection.</p> + +<p>The position was not an agreeable one to Hope, but she bethought herself +that it might have been much more disagreeable if Dorothea had +remembered. That she did not, was perfectly apparent. But if she had +remembered! Hope shuddered to think of what might have happened if this +had been the case. How, with that incapacity for understanding sensitive +natures unlike her own, this girl would in some abrupt way have referred +to that past painful encounter,—painful, not because of the different +conditions of things at that time, but painful because of that first +cruel knowledge of the world that had come through it.</p> + +<p>Kate Van der Berg was not far wrong when she prophesied that Hope would +be as polite as a Chinese mandarin to the new-comer. Hope was very +polite. You could not have found fault with a single word or action. +Even Dolly saw nothing to find fault with; but all this politeness did +not warm and cheer her, did not make her feel any easier or more at +home. In sitting there at the dinner-table in the bright light she felt +more uncomfortable than ever, for by this searching light she saw now +very clearly the extreme plainness of each girl's attire; and as she +caught every now and then the quick observing glance of one and another, +she saw that she had made a great mistake,—that, instead of producing a +fine impression by her fine dress, she had produced an unfavorable one, +and was being silently criticised as rather loud and—oh, +horror!—vulgar.</p> + +<p>Miss Marr, looking across the table, did not fail to see that Hope was +not so successful as usual in charming away the awkwardness and +discomfort of a stranger. Presently she caught two or three little set +speeches of Hope's,—polite little speeches, but perfectly +mechanical,—and said to herself as Kate Van der Berg had said, "Hope +doesn't take to her."</p> + +<p>It was generally the custom for the girls to meet in the library before +and after dinner for a few minutes' social chat; but on this night most +of the girls, having just arrived, excused themselves, and went directly +upstairs to unpack their trunks and settle their various belongings. +Hope was very glad to make her excuses with the others, and escape to +her room, that for a few days she was to occupy alone. She was busily +engaged in putting the last things in their places, when there came a +light tap on the door, and to her "Come in," Miss Marr entered, with a +little apology for the lateness of her call, and an admiring exclamation +for Hope's quick dexterity in arranging her belongings. After this she +sat a moment in silence, with rather a perplexed look on her face; then +suddenly she broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"Hope," she said, "I am afraid I gave you an unpleasant task to perform +to-night."</p> + +<p>Hope reddened.</p> + +<p>"You didn't find it easy, I perceived, to talk with the new pupil."</p> + +<p>"N—o, I didn't," faltered Hope.</p> + +<p>"She was hard to get on with, wasn't she?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know. I—talked to her—I paid her what attention I could."</p> + +<p>"But she was disagreeable to you?"</p> + +<p>"She didn't intend to be—I—I didn't fancy her, Miss Marr."</p> + +<p>Miss Marr looked the surprise she felt. She had never known Hope to take +such a sudden dislike.</p> + +<p>"I didn't fancy her, and I suppose I was stiff with her; but I tried—I +tried to be polite to her."</p> + +<p>"Of course you did. I'm not finding fault with you, dear. You did what +you could to help me, and it was kind of you. I'm sorry you feel as you +do, but don't trouble any more about it; it will wear off, I dare say; +and now make haste and go to bed,—you look tired."</p> + +<p>"Miss Marr," and Hope put a detaining hand on Miss Marr's arm. "What is +it—what else is it you were thinking of—of asking me to do?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, dear."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, please, Miss Marr."</p> + +<p>"I was going to ask you to let Miss Dering occupy the other bed in your +room to-night. Some one left the water running before dinner in the room +over hers, and the bed and carpet are drenched; but I will make some +other arrangement for her now,—you sha'n't be troubled with her."</p> + +<p>"But the other rooms are full."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I will have a cot put up in the little parlor. Good-night;" +and with a soft touch of her hand on Hope's cheek, Miss Marr left the +room. She was half-way down the hall when Hope ran after her.</p> + +<p>"Miss Marr, Miss Marr, don't—don't put up the bed in the little parlor. +It is nine o'clock. Let her come to my room."</p> + +<p>"My dear, go back; don't think any more about the matter."</p> + +<p>"No, no, let her come to my room, <i>please</i>, Miss Marr."</p> + +<p>Miss Marr looked at the pleading face uplifted to hers, and understood. +At least she understood enough to see that Hope was already accusing +herself of being disobliging and selfish, and that she would be far more +uncomfortable now if left alone than she would be in sharing her room +with the obnoxious new comer; and so without more hesitation she yielded +the point, with a "Very well, dear; it shall be as you say," and went on +down the hall to Dorothea.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + + +<p>"I am very sorry to have intruded upon you," said Dolly, as Hope met her +at the door of her room.</p> + +<p>Dolly meant to be very dignified and rather haughty, but she behaved +instead like what she was,—a cross, tired, homesick girl. Hope, seeing +the red, swollen eyelids, forgave the crossness, and saying something +pleasant about its being no intrusion, pointed out the little bed behind +the screen that Dolly was to occupy, and went on with the work of +regulating her bureau drawers, that Miss Marr had interrupted, begging +to be excused as she did so. If Dolly had done the proper thing, the +thing that was expected of her, she would have retired behind the screen +and gone to bed then and there. But she had no idea of going to bed, so +long as there was a light burning, and anybody was stirring; so she +dropped down into an easy-chair that stood near the door, and took up a +book that was lying on the table. It was a copy of "Le Luthier de +Crémone,"—a charming little play by Francois Coppée. Miss Dolly turned +the leaves over a moment, then put the volume down, and cast an +interested, curious look at Hope, who at that moment was busy arranging +her boxes. Dolly had studied French sufficiently to enable her to read +some very simple stories, but "Le Luthier de Crémone" was quite beyond +her power, and her glance at Hope was compounded of envy and admiration. +Hope, without apparently observing her, was yet nervously conscious of +every movement, and thought to herself,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! why <i>doesn't</i> she go to bed?"</p> + +<p>Putting down the book, Dolly's eyes next turned to a certain oblong case +that was lying upon a chair near her.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she exclaimed, "do you play the violin?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, a little," answered Hope.</p> + +<p>"So do I. May I look at your violin?"</p> + +<p>Hope hesitated a second, then lifted the instrument from its case. It +was not the good little fiddle that she had earned for herself five +years ago. That was safely packed away. This was a much more costly +fiddle, and had been purchased in Paris for her by a brother of Mr. +Kolb, who was an extensive dealer in violins Dolly had taken lessons of +an excellent teacher, who was also an excellent judge of a violin, and +had chosen hers for her. She had at various times heard him talk about +some of the famous old violin-makers, and recognized their names when +she heard them spoken. As she took Hope's violin from her hands, she +said,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, yours is about the size of mine. Mine is English, but it is +modelled on the famous old Stradivari pattern of Cremona, my teacher +said. You know Stradivari was one of the most famous of the Cremona +makers," looking up at Hope with an air of wisdom.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">She took Hope's violin from her hands</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Hope nodded.</p> + +<p>"But this is a pretty little violin,—sort of quaint-looking," went on +Dolly, amiably. She was fast recovering her spirits, forgetting her +grievances and homesickness in her present interest, with her accustomed +alacrity.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I think it is pretty," Hope answered quietly.</p> + +<p>"Very pretty; I really think it is prettier than mine, and what a nice +red color it has! Who made it, do you know?"</p> + +<p>"An Italian named Montagnana."</p> + +<p>"Oh! does he have a shop in London? Did your teacher get it for you +there?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think he was ever in London, even when he was living. But +he died a great while ago. He lived in Cremona first, then in Venice."</p> + +<p>"In Cremona! How long ago?"</p> + +<p>"Well, he was a pupil of Stradivari, and he lived in Cremona in the year +1740, and after he had studied for a time with Stradivari, he went to +Venice, where the manufacture of violins was very flourishing."</p> + +<p>"What! this is a real Cremona violin?" cried Dolly. "Why—why, Mr. +Andrews, my teacher, said that they were very rare, and when you did +succeed in getting hold of one that it took a lot of money to buy it."</p> + +<p>Hope made no response to this speech; and Dolly, looking up at her, +caught the expression of her face, and hastened to say,—</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean that I didn't believe it was a Cremona violin; but I was +so astonished, you know, because I'd heard Mr. Andrews go on so about +Cremona violins."</p> + +<p>Hope was old enough now to see that Dolly was honest in her +excuse,—that she had really meant no offence,—and, relenting a little, +replied,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose it <i>is</i> hard to find a genuine old Cremona; but my first +teacher was an old German musician, and his brother, who is a dealer in +violins in Paris, procured this for me."</p> + +<p>"But didn't it cost a lot of money?"</p> + +<p>"It was expensive."</p> + +<p>Dolly would have given a great deal to know just how expensive was that +beautiful little instrument, with its nice red color; but even she +couldn't bring herself to ask the question outright of that tall, +reserved girl, who was so perfectly polite and yet so far off from her. +Who was this girl, anyway, she thought,—this girl, no older than +herself, whose father could and would buy a Cremona violin for her? Her +own father—the Hon. James Dering—was a rich man, and a generous one, +but he would have laughed at the proposition of buying a Cremona violin +for his daughter. Why, Cremona violins were for professionals—when they +could get them—and enthusiastic collectors. But perhaps—perhaps this +girl was going to be a professional. With this new idea in her mind, +Dolly gave another glance at Hope. A professional? No, that could not +be. A girl who was preparing to be a professional wouldn't be here at +Miss Marr's school. But a Cremona violin! Dolly wouldn't have been at +all astonished if a girl had shown her a fine watch-case set about with +diamonds. Mary had a very valuable watch of that kind, and she herself +had the promise of one like it when she was as old as Mary. It didn't +occur to her that a Cremona violin was a piece of property that was +yearly advancing in value; that it was, in fact, a better investment, as +the phrase is, than diamonds even. She had heard her father say often +that diamonds would always bring their market value, and that they were +therefore very safe property to hold, though not bringing in any +interest. That a violin of any kind could have this property value did +not enter her head, and Hope's possession grew more and more puzzling to +her. Hope all the time had a keen sense of her companion's wonder and +curiosity, and was half amused, half irritated by it. But she succeeded +very well in concealing the state of her feelings, and was as polite as +ever, even when Dolly nearly dropped the precious Cremona, only giving +utterance to a little gasping "Oh!" Dolly herself was rather frightened +at the possible accident, and was glad to hand the instrument back to +its owner. As she did so, she asked suddenly,—</p> + +<p>"Have you lived abroad? Did you take lessons abroad?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have lived abroad, and I took lessons nearly all the time I was +away."</p> + +<p>"Where were you,—in Germany?"</p> + +<p>"No, in Paris part of the time and part of the time in London."</p> + +<p>"How jolly!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, it was rather jolly sometimes, though both my French and English +teachers were very exacting, and made me work hard."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I don't mean the work,—the violin lessons; I mean the living in +London and Paris," answered Dolly, frankly.</p> + +<p>Hope couldn't help laughing at this frankness.</p> + +<p>Dolly laughed a little too, but she was quite in earnest, nevertheless, +and began another string of questions,—what Hope saw, where she went, +what she bought, etc.</p> + +<p>Hope's answers did not open the field of entertainment that Dolly +expected, for galleries and museums and music and quiet pleasures of +that kind were not what Dolly was thinking of in connection with Paris +and London.</p> + +<p>"But didn't you visit people, and go to theatres and things, and have +fun?" she asked at length.</p> + +<p>Hope smiled a queer, amused smile that Dolly didn't understand, as she +answered: "I didn't go abroad to have fun of that sort, but I had a +beautiful time."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you had a beautiful time slaving away at that violin."</p> + +<p>"I did, indeed," answered Hope, laughing outright.</p> + +<p>"What a lot you must know about a violin!"</p> + +<p>"I? Oh, no, no!"</p> + +<p>Hope at that instant was putting a pile of music upon a little +music-rack. Dolly caught sight of the upper sheet.</p> + +<p>"What! you play those things of Bach? Well, you <i>must</i> know a lot!"</p> + +<p>"No, I <i>love</i> a lot, and I've studied hard, that's all."</p> + +<p>"I should say so; and here," turning over the pages, "are Mendelssohn +and Beethoven and Chopin. Why, I should think you were studying to play +in public. Oh! but here is something more frivolous, more in my style," +pouncing upon a waltz. "Oh, I just dote on waltzes; try this now, do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, not now; it is too late. We must have our lights out by ten, +and it is fifteen minutes to ten this moment."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother!" and Dolly wrinkled up her forehead. "I hate to go to bed."</p> + +<p>Hope's only reply to this remark was, "Then, if you'll excuse me and +turn out the gas when you are ready, I'll say good-night, for I'm very +tired;" and hastily retreating behind her screen, she left Dolly to her +own devices.</p> + +<p>Tired as she was, however, it was a long time before Hope could sleep. +Dolly, too, lay awake for a while, thinking over the many incidents of +the day. But her thoughts were not perplexed thoughts like Hope's. She +had no hurt remembrance of the past to perplex her. She had not by any +means entirely forgotten the little flower-girl, though she had +forgotten her name; but the memory of her was a latent one, and was not +for an instant stirred by her present companion's personality. Hope was +quite a new acquaintance to her. It never occurred to Dolly that she had +ever seen her before, unless she was really that girl whom she had seen +with the Edlicotts last spring. It was one of Dolly's characteristics +not to brood long over anything disagreeable; and lying there in the +still darkness, and reflecting upon the incidents of the day, the little +surprises and mortifications began to give way to a sense of interest +and anticipation, the principal point of interest at the moment being +Hope and her violin. Oddly enough, from the time that Dolly had seen +Hope coming down the hall, and had received that courteous little +greeting from her, she had been attracted towards her. The rather stiff +politeness that had followed, if disappointing, had not been repelling, +and the subsequent bedroom chat, with its revelation of musical +accomplishments and foreign experiences, to say nothing of that +wonderful Cremona violin, had made a fresh impression upon Dolly of such +power that even Miss Marr's attractiveness became quite secondary in her +mind.</p> + +<p>Hope could not but see something of this. She was not flattered by it, +however, for as she thought over it, she said to herself,—</p> + +<p>"It is not the real Hope Benham who attracts her, but a young lady who +has lived abroad, and who is rich enough to own a Cremona violin, and to +play Bach and Beethoven studies upon it. If she knew that I was the girl +who sold her the flowers at the Brookside station, things would be quite +different."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + + +<p>It was the next morning just after breakfast that Miss Marr, coming out +of her little parlor, met Hope in the hall, and said to her,—</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you did not sleep well, my dear; you look heavy-eyed."</p> + +<p>"No, I didn't sleep very well," answered Hope, coloring slightly.</p> + +<p>"Did Miss Dering keep you awake?"</p> + +<p>"Y—es, I suppose so—but—it wasn't so bad as I expected."</p> + +<p>Miss Marr laughed. "Oh! it was not so bad as you expected. She wears +better on further acquaintance. I'm glad to hear that, but I am afraid +she's a great chatterer. However, her room will be in order to-night, so +you won't be together again."</p> + +<p>Hope drew a deep breath of satisfaction, and her face showed +unmistakable signs of relief. Miss Marr took note of these signs, and +thought,—</p> + +<p>"It is not like Hope to take prejudices against people. I wonder what it +is that she finds so unbearable in this girl. It might help me a good +deal if I knew."</p> + +<p>A few guarded questions at once revealed Miss Marr's state of mind to +Hope, and she immediately hastened to say,—</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid I've given you a wrong impression; it is only a personal +feeling with me, Miss Marr. I—I met this girl, Dorothea,—they called +her 'Dolly' then,—five years ago, when I was only ten years old. She +has forgotten me, but I never forgot her, for she spoke so rudely, so +unkindly to me at the time, that I can't get over it. That's all. I dare +say the other girls will like her, and I—I've nothing else against +her."</p> + +<p>Miss Marr touched Hope's cheek with her finger,—a caressing way she had +at times, and said gently,—</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Hope, for being so honest; I can always trust you."</p> + +<p>Hope had been with Miss Marr for the past year, and had won her +confidence and love by the fine sweet strain of her character.</p> + +<p>"She's such an upright, sympathetic little soul, I can trust her with +anything," the Frenchwoman had said to her friends.</p> + +<p>It was one of these friends,—the wife of a scientific man,—that the +Benhams had become acquainted with in Paris, who had suggested Hope as a +pupil to Miss Marr, and told her something of John Benham's career.</p> + +<p>"Such an interesting man," the friend had said, in summing up her +account of him,—"what we call a self-made man, because he has had to +cultivate his tastes by books and private study unhelped by the schools; +but God-made after the finest pattern if ever a man was, and with a nice +sensible wife and this dearest little daughter, whom they have so wisely +determined to send home to their own country to complete her education."</p> + +<p>Angelique Marr recalled these words as she looked at Hope. It was just +at that moment that a door farther down the corridor was energetically +flung open, and Miss Dorothea Dering appeared with her arms full of +books. Hope started, and was turning away in the other direction, when +Dolly called out,—</p> + +<p>"Oh! Miss—Miss—er—er—Benham, wait a minute; I want to ask you +something."</p> + +<p>Hope waited, putting a detaining hand at the same time upon Miss Marr, +who made a movement to step back into her parlor.</p> + +<p>"I wanted to ask you," said Dolly, as she hurried up, "if you would let +me practise with you sometimes. You play a great deal higher kind of +music than I do, but I <i>can</i> play better things, and I've got a lovely +violin duet that I want awfully to practise with somebody; and if you +only <i>would</i>!" with an appealing glance at Hope.</p> + +<p>There was a slight pause, in which Miss Marr regarded Hope with a little +curiosity. Hope Benham's violin-playing was known throughout the school +as something out of the common, and the best of the piano pupils felt +that they were hardly up to playing her accompaniments; and here was +this new-comer proposing a violin duet with her! What would be Hope's +answer to this proposition? There was only the slightest possible pause; +then came this answer,—</p> + +<p>"My violin practice is very rigidly confined to the studies that my +teacher gives me, and he is very unwilling that I should play anything +else."</p> + +<p>"Oh, music-teachers are always that way! <i>I</i> don't mind 'em," cried +Dolly, airily; "and anyway, you can try some things with me in off +times, can't she, Miss Marr?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I never encourage pupils to disobey a teacher," answered Miss Marr, +a little amused at Dolly's density in appealing thus to her.</p> + +<p>"Of course not. I forgot; you don't seem like a teacher or anything of +that sort yourself to me; you seem somehow like one of us," said Dolly. +Then turning again to Hope, with a confident nod,—</p> + +<p>"You just ask your teacher if you can't play with me at off times, won't +you?"</p> + +<p>Hope murmured something vague in the way of reply, but Dolly had no +doubt that her proposition would be carried into effect in due season. +In the mean time, as it had not yet been decided about her own violin +lessons, she determined to practise what she could by herself, and at +odd intervals after this there was heard issuing from her room a variety +of shrill scrapings, at which the girls would shrug their shoulders, and +shake their heads at one another. One day Kate Van der Berg accosted +Hope with this question,—</p> + +<p>"When do you begin practising that duet with Miss Dering?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, how did you hear about that?"</p> + +<p>"Not from you, Miss Closemouth."</p> + +<p>"But Miss Marr, I know, didn't speak of it."</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Dorothea Dering herself told us that when things were all +settled, the classes arranged, etc., you were going to practise a violin +duet with her."</p> + +<p>"She spoke to Miss Marr and to me about it," answered Hope, evasively.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she spoke to Miss Marr and you about it, and Miss Marr and you +didn't say 'Yes,' and you thought that would be enough of an answer; and +it would, ordinarily, but it won't in this case, you'll see, my dear. +Miss Dorothea Dering is used to having her own way, and, Hope, I'm of +the opinion she'll have it now."</p> + +<p>Hope straightened her slim figure, and that little pucker came into her +forehead that Kate Van der Berg knew so well, whereat Kate laughed, and +said gayly,—</p> + +<p>"How ungrateful you are, Hope!"</p> + +<p>"Ungrateful! how am I ungrateful?"</p> + +<p>"Not to embrace your opportunities and respond to such overtures. Hope, +what is it that you dislike about Dorothea Dering? I saw from the first +that you had taken a dislike to her."</p> + +<p>Hope flushed uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>"And she seems to admire you immensely. What is it? What have you seen +in her? what do you know about her?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about her for anybody else, only I—It is +entirely my feeling; it needn't prejudice anybody else," cried Hope, +dismayed.</p> + +<p>Kate Van der Berg was a warm-hearted, demonstrative girl, and at the +trouble in Hope's voice and in her face she flung her arms around her, +and said,—</p> + +<p>"There, there, never mind about her or what I said. It's all right; or +<i>you</i> are all right, whatever she may be."</p> + +<p>Hope put her cheek down upon Kate's shoulder for a moment; then suddenly +lifting her head, she burst out,—</p> + +<p>"No, no, you mustn't think as you do, that there's anything very bad +that I'm holding back. I mustn't let you think so; it would be wicked in +me. It is only just about myself,—something that she said to me long +ago,—five years ago. She's forgotten it; she's forgotten me. I only met +her for a few minutes, two or three times."</p> + +<p>"The disagreeable thing! I shall hate her!" Kate cried impulsively.</p> + +<p>"No, no, don't say so. I dare say you would have liked her if I—if I +could have kept what I felt to myself, and I thought I did, I thought I +did. Oh, dear!" and Hope stopped abruptly, as she realized that her own +excitement was making matters worse.</p> + +<p>"Liked her! Not if she could have said anything bad enough to hurt you +like this,—to have hurt you for five years."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't hurt me as it did then, but I remember it."</p> + +<p>"Well, that shows what a hurt it must have been."</p> + +<p>"What she said was out of ignorance. She didn't know any better," Hope +went on, determined to do the honorable thing by her childish enemy.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she knows much better now. Oh, you needn't try to +smooth it all over to me, you little conscientious thing; it's of no +use."</p> + +<p>"But, Kate, promise me one thing,—that you won't—you won't talk to the +other girls about it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll promise you that I'll be as mum as an oyster."</p> + +<p>"And you won't—you won't be—"</p> + +<p>"Disagreeable to her?" interrupted Kate, laughing. "Well, I'll try not +to be; I'll take pattern by you, and be so politely fascinating that +she'll ask me to play duets with her."</p> + +<p>Hope could not help laughing at this, but all the time she felt +disturbed and troubled. Kate Van der Berg had playfully jibed at her for +her conscientiousness. Kate thought she was over-conscientious, and she +might have been sometimes, for she was a sensitive creature, with high +notions and ideas of truth and justice and honor, and her father had +developed these ideas by his advice and counsel. One of the things that +he had impressed upon her was never to take advantage of any one, +especially any one that you had had a quarrel with. "Fair play, my dear, +always; remember that, and so you must remember to be open and above +board after you've had any differences with people, and never let +yourself say or hint damaging things about them, to prejudice others," +was one of his favorite pieces of counsel, put in one form and another, +at various times. Hope thought of these words even when she joined in +Kate Van der Berg's laughter. She thought of them after Kate had left +her, and all through the rest of the day they would start up to torment +her. At last she said to herself: "This is over-conscientious, for <i>I +didn't mean</i> to prejudice any one against Dolly Dering. I tried not to +show how I felt, and if I didn't succeed, it isn't my fault; but I'm a +great goose to fuss so. Kate will keep her promise, I know, and Miss +Dorothea Dering won't be unpopular because of anything I have said."</p> + +<p>So the matter rested, and the days went on, the school arrangements +settling into order, and the school companionships falling into the +usual adjustment by personal choice. When everything seemed to be +running smoothly, Dolly came forward again with her proposition. It was +one afternoon when she heard the sound of a violin floating down from +the music-room. It was the first time she had heard it, and obeying her +headlong impulse, she ran swiftly up the stairs and knocked at the door. +A voice called out, "Come in;" and obeying it, she found herself not +only in the presence of Hope, but of Kate Van der Berg, Myra +Donaldson,—Hope's lately returned room-mate,—and Anna Fleming. Myra +was seated at the piano, a sheet of music before her, waiting for Hope +to signal to her. All the girls looked up and bowed as Dolly entered, +but no one spoke. They were intent upon watching Hope, who, bow in hand, +was carefully testing the strings that she had just tightened.</p> + +<p>Dolly came round and stood beside Kate Van der Berg at the back of the +piano, which was a parlor grand placed half-way down the room. She +started to whisper, "What is it they—" but was checked by Kate's "Hush! +hush!" and just then the bow was brought to bear softly upon the +strings, as Hope began playing the sonata in F major by Beethoven. Once +or twice as the music progressed, Kate glanced at Dolly with a new +interest. What was this cool intruder—for such Kate dubbed +her—thinking as she listened to these exquisitely rendered strains? Was +she properly astonished and ashamed of herself for proposing to join +such a performer in a violin duet? Dolly's face betrayed nothing, +however. She simply stood perfectly still, leaning a little forward +against the piano, her big black eyes fixed in a steady gaze, now upon +Hope's violin bow, and now upon Hope herself. She stood thus until near +the close, when the difficult and delightful passages approach the +climax. Then her eyes wandered, her features relaxed, and when the end +came, she was ready with a little outburst of vigorous applause, which +she followed up with,—</p> + +<p>"You ought to play in public at concerts. But how you <i>must</i> have +worked! I'm not up to the classic, and I can't play like you, anyway. +What I like, what I <i>love</i>, is dance music,—waltzes,—and I've got the +loveliest duet in that time. It'll be as easy as A B C too. I'll run and +get it now, and my violin, and you just try it with me, and—oh, say, +have you asked your teacher what I told you to? You haven't? Well, never +mind for anybody's permission. 'T won't take you long; I'll—"</p> + +<p>"You really must excuse me, but I can't play any more now," interrupted +Hope's voice, as Dolly turned to go for her violin.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear, I wish I'd come sooner, before you had started off on that +long thing. But will you play with me to-morrow about this time? Or why +not to-night after dinner?"</p> + +<p>"But," with a queer little smile, "I haven't asked my teacher's +permission yet."</p> + +<p>"No, and I don't believe you care two pins about that," answered Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't believe it would be of any use," responded Hope, +guardedly.</p> + +<p>"Then say to-night after dinner."</p> + +<p>"To-night after dinner I had promised to read French with Kate Van der +Berg."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, there'll be time enough for that too; and you won't mind, +will you, if she plays with me first?" addressing Kate.</p> + +<p>"Mind? I shall mind a great deal," Kate made haste to reply. "I know how +it is when these musical people get started; they never know when to +stop. No, she's promised to me to-night, and I'm not going to let her +off."</p> + +<p>All this was said in a bright, laughing way, that hadn't an atom of +unfriendliness in the tone of it; and Dolly had not the faintest idea +that her proposition was being decidedly snubbed, as she listened. The +other girls were wiser. The moment that Hope refused to play in the way +she did, they knew that the proposition was distasteful to her; and when +Kate Van der Berg came to the support of this refusal with that quick, +bright decision, they knew that <i>she</i> knew more than they did why the +proposition was distasteful.</p> + +<p>Anna Fleming, who was Kate's room-mate, said to her a little later,—</p> + +<p>"Kate, didn't you think it was rather disobliging of Hope Benham not to +play that duet with Dorothea Dering?"</p> + +<p>"Disobliging! Well, that is a way to put it. I think it was the most +forward, presuming—what my brother Schuyler would call 'the cheekiest +thing' for that girl to take it for granted that such a violinist as +Hope Benham would want to practise her little rubbishy waltzes with +her."</p> + +<p>"But she didn't know probably what a splendid player Hope was, when she +first asked her."</p> + +<p>"She knew, didn't she, after she had heard the sonata?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose she had some idea, but she might not have been a very +good judge. She said, you know, at once that she couldn't play like +Hope, anyway."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I heard her; so kind of her to say that," cried Kate, +sarcastically.</p> + +<p>Anna laughed. Then, "What's the matter with 'that girl,' as you call +her?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Matter! well, I should think you could see as well as I that she is a +forward sort of thing; that's all I've got against her," Kate concluded +hastily, remembering her promise to Hope.</p> + +<p>"Hope must have taken a great dislike to her."</p> + +<p>"Why should you think that?"</p> + +<p>"Because I never knew Hope Benham to set herself up on her +violin-playing before, and refuse to play with anybody."</p> + +<p>"Nobody has ever asked her to play a violin duet. It is she who has +asked one of us to play an accompaniment for her now and then. You know +that <i>we</i> should never have thought of going forward and offering to +play for her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, we knew all about her playing from Miss Marr. But you say +nobody has ever asked her to play a violin duet. How about that little +Vernon girl who left last term? Hope used to play with <i>her</i> a great +deal, and Milly used to ask her too. Hope didn't care particularly for +Milly Vernon."</p> + +<p>"But she wanted to help her."</p> + +<p>"And she wanted to be obliging too. Hope Benham has always been one of +the kindest and most obliging girls in school."</p> + +<p>"And she is now, but she has some sense and spirit, and probably doesn't +mean to have a new-comer like Dorothea Dering take full possession of +her on short acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it <i>is</i> a pretty short acquaintance," responded Anna, +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"That last remark of mine was a happy hit," thought Kate, triumphantly. +"It has disposed of all the surmises about Hope's dislike, but," she +further thought, "I wonder how this violin business is going to end. I +prophesy that Miss Dorothea Dering will carry the day, and Hope will +play that duet with her yet."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + + +<p>The first two months at school generally pass very quickly; after that, +the time is apt to move a little slower. The first two months at Miss +Marr's school passed so quickly that the girls all confessed themselves +"so surprised" when December came with Christmas scarcely more than +three weeks away. Miss Marr gave a vacation on Christmas week, when the +boarding-girls, as those who were inmates of her house were called, +could go to their homes, if not too far off, and return by New Year's +eve, for it was a fixed rule that they must all be back by that time, +and not one of them but was delighted to obey this rule, for not one of +them would have lost Miss Marr's New Year's party, which, according to +Kate Van der Berg, was the best fun of the year.</p> + +<p>"But what do you do, what <i>is</i> the fun?" inquired Dolly Dering, who was +present when Kate made the above statement.</p> + +<p>"What do we do?" answered Kate. "Well, in the first place, on New Year's +eve, we have a jolly little party of just ourselves,—we girls in the +house, none of the outside girls, the day pupils,—and we play games, +sing songs, tell stories, do anything, in fact, that we want to do, and +at half-past ten there is a little light supper served, such as ices, +and the most delicious frosted sponge-cakes, and seed-cakes, and then +there is bread and butter, and hot cocoa for those that want it. After +this we feel as fresh and rested as possible, and all ready to sit the +old year out and the new year in."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you <i>don't</i> do that?" cried Dolly, delightedly, for to sit up late +was one of her ideas of happiness.</p> + +<p>"We do just that"</p> + +<p>"Well, and then?"</p> + +<p>"Then," went on Kate, laughing, "we begin to grow a little quieter. We +tell stories in lower voices; we watch the clock, and as it strikes +twelve, we jump to our feet and all break out singing a New Year's song +or hymn. Sometimes it is one thing and sometimes it is another. Last +year it was Tennyson's</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The year is dying; let him die."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"And Hope's violin playing," exclaimed Myra Donaldson here. "Don't you +remember how Hope played the violin last year? She just made it talk; +don't you remember?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," went on Kate, hurriedly. "Hope played, and then we all wished +each other a 'Happy New Year,' and went to bed. The next day—"</p> + +<p>"What did she play?" asked Dolly, breaking in upon Kate here.</p> + +<p>"Oh, she played—she played—"</p> + +<p>"Robert Franz's 'Good-night' song and Behr's 'Good-morning,'" struck in +Myra again, impatient at Kate's hesitation.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know Franz's 'Good-night,' and doesn't the 'Good morning' go like +this?" asked Dolly, beginning to whistle the air of Behr's.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is it, and I played the accompaniment," answered Myra. "It +was just delicious. We all cried, for it seemed as if the violin sang +the very words."</p> + +<p>"I never heard either of them on the violin, but my sister sings them +both," said Dolly.</p> + +<p>"I think these were arranged for the violin by Hope's teacher, specially +for Hope," exclaimed Myra. "I think Hope—"</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to hear what we did the next day and the next evening?" +called out Kate, exasperated at Myra's harping on Hope and her violin to +Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes;" and Dolly brightened up expectantly. Myra, at that moment +receiving a sharp little reminder under the table from Kate's foot, and +another reminder from Kate's warning look, subsided into silence, while +Kate took up her story of New Year's day and evening.</p> + +<p>"Of course, after that midnight watch, we breakfasted late,—oh, so +late! and the best part of it was, we breakfasted in our rooms."</p> + +<p>"In your rooms?" exclaimed Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, at ten o'clock, tap, tap, came on our doors, and enter Susette +with a tray, on which was a delicious breakfast for two, and a dear +little bouquet of flowers for each of us. Isn't Miss Marr a dear to +think of such things?"</p> + +<p>"Will she do the same this year?" questioned Dolly, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; she has always done the same in the main things,—the evening +luncheon or little supper on New Year's eve, the sitting out, then the +breakfast, and the reception party New Year's night. She only varies +some of the details."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you have an evening party New Year's night?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Who is invited? Who comes?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I can tell you one thing,—that everybody comes who is lucky +enough to be invited, and the invited are all the outside girls and one +friend of each; that is, each girl can invite one friend. We +boarding-girls have the same privilege. I always invite one of my +relations, and isn't there a scramble amongst them to see which it shall +be?"</p> + +<p>"And what do you do at the party?"</p> + +<p>Kate looked a little disgusted at this question. "What do we do? We do +what most people do at a party," she answered rather tartly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what I meant was, do you dance?" asked Dolly, in a +half-apologetic tone.</p> + +<p>"Dance? I should think we did, and we have music, and at the very end +the best fun of all."</p> + +<p>"I shouldn't think it would be such great fun, just to dance with +girls."</p> + +<p>"You are not obliged to dance with girls."</p> + +<p>"What! You don't mean—that there are young fellows—men?"</p> + +<p>"There are <i>boys</i>,—that's what I call them,—boys like my brother +Schuyler. Schuyler is seventeen."</p> + +<p>Dolly gave a long drawn "Oh!" It was evidently an "Oh" of relief; but +directly she asked, with demure mischief,—</p> + +<p>"Can't you have 'em over seventeen?"</p> + +<p>Kate laughed. "Well, we can't have regular grown-ups, you know, and we +don't want them. But we can have them all the way from fifteen to +eighteen, I believe."</p> + +<p>"How odd! Doesn't Miss Marr think we are up to conversation with +grown-up young gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>"She thinks probably that 'grown-up gentlemen,' as you call +them,—gentlemen out in society,—wouldn't care to come to a school-girl +party, and that it is much more suitable to have boys of our own +age,—boys we all know, or most of us know, at any rate, and who have +something the same interests that we have,—school interests, and things +of that kind. For my part, I shouldn't know what to say to gentlemen so +much older than myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, wouldn't you?" cried Dolly, with an air—a knowing sort of +air—that exasperated Kate. "I have a grown-up sister, and I've seen a +good many of her gentlemen visitors. I never found it hard to talk to +them," went on Dolly, with a still more knowing air.</p> + +<p>"And I have a grown-up brother," retorted Kate, "and I've heard him tell +how men go on about half-grown girls and their forwardness and boldness +and pertness, and how they—the young men—disliked that kind of thing, +or else amused themselves with it for a little while, and then made fun +of it."</p> + +<p>Dolly's face had flushed scarlet at these words, and at the end she +burst forth angrily,—</p> + +<p>"I suppose you mean that when I talked with my sister's, I must have +been forward and bold and pert."</p> + +<p>It was Kate's turn now to flush. She saw that in her irritation—Dolly +was apt to irritate her—she had been unwarrantably rude, and swallowing +her mortification, she at once made haste to say,—</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon, I—I shouldn't have spoken as I did. I am very +sorry."</p> + +<p>Dolly gave a quick glance at the speaker, hesitated a moment, as if +waiting for something further, then jumped up and flounced out of the +room with an angry impetus that there was no mistaking.</p> + +<p>"Well, that is interesting, I must confess," ejaculated Kate. "I begged +her pardon; what more did she want?"</p> + +<p>"She wanted you to say that you hadn't the least idea of <i>her</i> in your +mind,—that you didn't mean that <i>she</i> was forward or pert, and you said +nothing of the sort; you only begged her pardon for having <i>spoken</i> as +you did," explained Myra Donaldson, giggling a little.</p> + +<p>"And that is what I meant,—just that,—that I was sorry for having +spoken—"</p> + +<p>"Your thoughts," said Myra, giggling again.</p> + +<p>"Dorothea is generally a good-natured girl," spoke up Anna Fleming here, +with a kind impulse to be just.</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>I</i> like Dorothea very well. I should like her better if she didn't +bounce and flounce so. You can't say that her manners are as nice as +they might be, can you?" said Myra, looking appealingly at Anna.</p> + +<p>"N—o, I can't say that her manners are really nice," answered Anna.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> think she is vulgar!" Kate suddenly snapped out, with a vehemence +that quite startled the other two girls.</p> + +<p>"Vulgar! why, Kate, she's one of the Boston Derings."</p> + +<p>Kate made a little face, and then in a sarcastic voice, "Who are the +Boston Derings?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Now, Kate, you know perfectly well that the Boston Derings belong to +the best society in Massachusetts, and that they have always belonged to +it from the first," protested Anna, getting things rather mixed in her +eagerness.</p> + +<p>"From the first!" repeated Kate, laughing derisively. "I suppose you +mean from the time of Adam."</p> + +<p>"Now, Kate, you know perfectly well what I mean. The Derings came from +an old family."</p> + +<p>"Like Sandy MacDougal."</p> + +<p>"Eh—what—who is Sandy MacDougal?"</p> + +<p>"Our gardener. He came straight to us from Scotland, and he's as proud +as a peacock of his family. He says the MacDougals have been first-class +gardeners for generations."</p> + +<p>Myra Donaldson gave another of her giggles, but Anna did not join in her +levity. Instead of that she said with dignity,—</p> + +<p>"What <i>I</i> mean is an old family like the Van der Bergs."</p> + +<p>Kate flushed rosy red. This was "a retort courteous," and for a moment +she was dumb; but a moment after, she sat up in her chair, and cried +laughingly,—</p> + +<p>"The Van der Bergs are not proud, except of one thing in their family +history."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" inquired Anna, quickly.</p> + +<p>Kate laughed again. "It is the performance of a long-ago ancestor,—a +Dutch boatman named Van der Berg. It was in that early time when the +Netherlanders were struggling against Spain to establish their own +liberty and independence. William the Silent, Prince of Orange, you +know, who had been the Netherlanders' best friend when he was at the +head of their commonwealth, was dead, and his son, Maurice, Prince of +Nassau, was working with John of olden Barneveld to help the +Netherlanders, as his father had been doing, to become strong enough to +get altogether out of the clutches of Spain. But how ridiculous of me to +talk history to you like this, just because of that old story! To change +the conversation, what is it you are knitting, Anna,—a shawl or a +cape?"</p> + +<p>"No, no, we don't want to change the conversation," protested Anna and +Myra, who knew quite well what a delightful story-teller Kate was, and +never more delightful than when she was "talking history,"—telling +"true stories," as they expressed it. Neither of the girls was very fond +of <i>studying</i> history, but they were very fond of listening to Kate +whenever she would "talk it," or whenever she would pick out of it +its—to them—labyrinthine mazes some stirring incident, and read it to +them. So their protest now was very decisive against any change of +conversation; and thus urged to go back to her subject, Kate went on +with the story of her ancestor. She had not gone far, however, when she +stopped short again, saying,—</p> + +<p>"But wait! Motley tells the story so beautifully in his 'United +Netherlands;' let me read it to you in his own words. It's too bad to +try to tell it in <i>my</i> words; and here's the book right on this lower +library shelf."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">It was the work of a moment to possess herself of the book</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>It was the work of a moment to possess herself of the book; and the +girls, settling themselves comfortably in their chairs, gave themselves +up to the pleasure of listening to the following spirited narrative:—</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + + +<p>"The fair and pleasant city of Breda lies on the Merk,—a slender stream +navigable for small vessels, which finds its way to the sea through the +great canal of the Dental. It had been the property of the Princes of +Orange, Barons of Breda, and had passed with the other possessions of +the family to the house of Châlons-Nassau. Henry of Nassau had, half a +century before, adorned and strengthened it by a splendid +palace-fortress, which, surrounded by a deep and double moat, thoroughly +commanded the town. A garrison of five companies of Italian infantry and +one of cavalry lay in this castle, which was under the command of Edward +Lanzavecchia, governor both of Breda and of the neighboring +Gertruydenberg. Breda was an important strategical position. It was, +moreover, the feudal superior of a large number of adjacent villages, as +well as of the cities of Osterhout, Steenberg, and Rosendaal. It was +obviously not more desirable for Maurice of Nassau to recover his +patrimonial city than it was for the States-General to drive the +Spaniards from so important a position.</p> + +<p>"In the month of February, 1590, Maurice, being then at the castle of +Voorn, in Zeeland, received a secret visit from a boatman,—Adrian Van +der Berg by name,—who lived at the village of Leur, eight or ten miles +from Breda, and who had been in the habit of supplying the castle with +turf. In the absence of wood and coal-mines, the habitual fuel of the +country was furnished by those vast relics of the antediluvian forests, +which abounded in the still partially submerged soil. The skipper +represented that his vessel had passed so often into and out of the +castle as to be hardly liable to search by the guard on its entrance. He +suggested a stratagem by which it might be possible to surprise the +stronghold. The prince approved of the scheme, and immediately consulted +with Barneveld. That statesman at once proposed, as a suitable man to +carry out the daring venture, Captain Charles de Heraugiere,—a nobleman +of Cambray,—who had been long in the service of the States, had +distinguished himself at Sluys and on other occasions, but who had been +implicated in Leicester's nefarious plot to gain possession of the city +of Leyden, a few years before. The advocate expressed confidence that he +would be grateful for so signal an opportunity of retrieving a somewhat +damaged reputation. Heraugiere, who was with his company in Voorn at the +moment, eagerly signified his desire to attempt the enterprise as soon +as the matter was communicated to him, avowing the deepest devotion to +the House of William the Silent, and perfect willingness to sacrifice +his life, if necessary, in its cause and that of the country. Philip +Nassau, cousin of Prince Maurice, and brother of Lewis William, Governor +of Gorcum Dorcum and Lowenstein Castle, and colonel of a regiment of +cavalry, was also taken into the secret, as well as Count Hohenlo, +President Van der Myle, and a few others; but a mystery was carefully +spread and maintained over the undertaking. Heraugiere selected +sixty-eight men, on whose personal daring and patience he knew that he +could rely, from the regiments of Philip Nassau and Famars, governor of +the neighboring city of Hensden, and from his own company. Besides +himself, the officers to command the party were Captains Lozier and +Fervet, and Lieutenant Matthew Held. The names of such devoted soldiers +deserve to be commemorated, and are still freshly remembered by their +countrymen.</p> + +<p>"On the 25th of February, Maurice and his staff went to Willemstad, on +the isle of Klundert, it having been given out on his departure from the +Hague that his destination was Dort. On the same night, at about eleven +o'clock, by the feeble light of a waning moon, Heraugiere and his band +came to the Swertsenburg ferry, as agreed upon, to meet the boatman. +They found neither him nor his vessel, and they wandered about half the +night, very cold, very indignant, much perplexed. At last, on their way +back, they came upon the skipper at the village of Terheyde, who made +the extraordinary excuse that he had overslept himself, and that he +feared the plot had been discovered. It being too late to make any +attempt that night, a meeting was arranged for the following evening. No +suspicion of treachery occurred to any of the party, although it became +obvious that the skipper had grown faint-hearted. He did not come on the +next night to the appointed place, but he sent two nephews, boatmen like +himself, whom he described as dare-devils.</p> + +<p>"On Monday night, the 26th of February, the seventy went on board the +vessel, which was apparently filled with blocks of turf, and packed +themselves closely in the hold. They moved slowly during a little time +on their perilous voyage, for the winter wind, thick with fog and sleet, +blew directly down the river, bringing along with it huge blocks of ice, +and scooping the water out of the dangerous shallows, so as to render +the vessel at any moment liable to be stranded. At last the navigation +became impossible, and they came to a standstill. From Monday night till +Thursday morning those seventy Hollanders lay packed like herrings in +the hold of their little vessel, suffering from hunger, thirst, and +deadly cold; yet not one of them attempted to escape or murmured a wish +to abandon the enterprise. Even when the third morning dawned, there was +no better prospect of proceeding, for the remorseless east wind still +blew a gale against them, and the shoals which beset their path had +become more dangerous than ever. It was, however, absolutely necessary +to recruit exhausted nature, unless the adventurers were to drop +powerless on the threshold when they should at last arrive at their +destination. In all secrecy they went ashore at a lonely castle called +Nordam, where they remained to refresh themselves until about eleven at +night, when one of the boatmen came to them with the intelligence that +the wind had changed and was now blowing freshly from the sea. Yet the +voyage of a few leagues, on which they were embarked, lasted nearly two +whole days longer; on Saturday afternoon they passed through the last +sluice, and at about three o'clock the last boom was shut behind them. +There was no retreat possible for them now. The seventy were to take the +strong castle and city of Breda or to lay down their lives every man of +them. No quarter and short shrift,—such was their certain destiny, +should that crippled, half-frozen little band not succeed in their task +before another sunrise.</p> + +<p>"They were now in the outer harbor, and not far from the water-gate +which led into the inner castle-haven. Presently an officer of the guard +put off in a skiff and came on board the vessel. Those inside could see +and hear his every movement. Had there been a single cough or sneeze +from within, the true character of the cargo, then making its way into +the castle, would have been discovered, and every man would, within ten +minutes, have been butchered. But the officer, unsuspecting, soon took +his departure, saying that he would send some men to warp the vessel +into the castle dock.</p> + +<p>"Meantime, as the adventurers were making their way slowly towards the +water-gate, they struck upon a hidden obstruction in the river, and the +deeply laden vessel sprang a leak. In a few minutes those inside were +sitting up to their knees in water,—a circumstance which scarcely +improved their already sufficiently dismal condition. The boatmen +vigorously plied the pumps to save the vessel from sinking outright; a +party of Italian soldiers soon arrived on the shore, and in the course +of a couple of hours they had laboriously dragged the concealed +Hollanders into the inner harbor and made their vessel fast, close to +the guard-house of the castle. And now a crowd of all sorts came on +board. The winter nights had been long and fearfully cold, and there was +almost a dearth of fuel both in town and fortress. A gang of laborers +set to work discharging the turf from the vessel with such rapidity that +the departing daylight began to shine in upon the prisoners much sooner +than they wished. Moreover the thorough wetting to which, after all +their other inconveniences they had just been exposed, in their narrow +escape from foundering, had set the whole party sneezing and coughing. +Never was a catarrh so sudden, so universal, or ill-timed. Lieutenant +Held, unable to control the violence of his cough, drew his dagger and +eagerly implored his next neighbor to stab him to the heart, lest his +infirmity should lead to the discovery of the whole party. But the calm +and wary skipper who stood on the deck instantly commanded his companion +to work at the pump with as much chatter as possible, assuring the +persons present that the hold was nearly full of water. By this means +the noise of the coughing was effectually drowned. Most thoroughly did +the bold boatman deserve the title of "dare-devil" bestowed by his more +faint-hearted uncle. Calmly looking death in the face, he stood there, +quite at his ease, exchanging jokes with his old acquaintances, +chaffering with the eager purchasers of peat, shouting most noisy and +superfluous orders to the one man who composed his crew, doing his +utmost, in short, to get rid of his customers and to keep enough of the +turf on board to conceal the conspirators. At last, when the case seemed +almost desperate, he loudly declared that sufficient had been unladen +for that evening and that it was too dark and he was too tired for +further work. So giving a handful of stivers among the workmen, he bade +them go ashore at once and have some beer, and come next morning for the +rest of the cargo. Fortunately, they accepted his hospitable proposition +and took their departure; only the servant of the captain of the guard +lingered behind, complaining that the turf was not as good as usual, and +that his master would never be satisfied with it.</p> + +<p>"'Ah!' returned the cool skipper, '<i>the best part of the cargo is +underneath. This is expressly reserved for the captain. He is sure to +get enough of it to-morrow</i>.'</p> + +<p>"Thus admonished, the servant departed, and the boatman was left to +himself. His companion had gone on shore with secret orders to make the +best of his way to Prince Maurice, to inform him of the arrival of the +ship within the fortress, and of the important fact which they had just +learned that Governor Lanzavecchia, who had heard rumors of some +projected enterprise, and who suspected that the object aimed at was +Gertruydenberg, had suddenly taken his departure from that city, leaving +as his lieutenant his nephew Paola, a raw lad, quite incompetent to +provide for the safety of Breda. A little before midnight, Captain +Heraugiere made a brief address to his comrades in the vessel, telling +them that the hour for carrying out their undertaking had at length +arrived. Retreat was impossible, defeat was certain death; only in +complete victory lay their own safety and a great advantage for the +Commonwealth. It was an honor for them to be selected for such an +enterprise. To show cowardice now would be an eternal shame for them, +and he would be the man to strike dead with his own hand any traitor or +poltroon. But if, as he doubted not, every one was prepared to do his +duty, their success was assured, and he was himself ready to take the +lead in confronting every danger. He then divided the little band into +two companies,—one under himself to attack the main guard-house, the +other under Fernet to seize the arsenal of the fortress. Noiselessly +they stole out of the ship where they had so long been confined, and +stood at last on the ground within the precincts of the castle. +Heraugiere marched straight to the guard-house.</p> + +<p>"'Who goes there?' cried a sentinel, hearing some movement in the +darkness.</p> + +<p>"'A friend,' replied the captain, seizing him by the throat, and +commanding him, as he valued his life, to keep silence except when +addressed, and then to speak in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"'How many are there in the garrison?' muttered Heraugiere.</p> + +<p>"'Three hundred and fifty,' whispered the sentinel.</p> + +<p>"'How many?' eagerly demanded the nearest followers, not hearing the +reply.</p> + +<p>"'He says there are but fifty of them,' said Heraugiere, prudently +suppressing the three hundred, in order to encourage his comrades.</p> + +<p>"Quietly as they had made their approach, there was nevertheless a stir +in the guard-house. The captain of the watch sprang into the courtyard.</p> + +<p>"'Who goes?' he demanded in his turn.</p> + +<p>"'A friend,' again replied Heraugiere, striking him dead with a single +blow as he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Others emerged with torches. Heraugiere was slightly wounded, but +succeeded, after a brief struggle, in killing a second assailant. His +followers set upon the watch, who retreated into the guard-house. +Heraugiere commanded his men to fire through the doors and windows, and +in a few minutes every one of the enemy lay dead. It was not a moment +for making prisoners or speaking of quarter. Meantime Fervet and his +band had not been idle. The magazine house of the castle was seized, its +defenders slain. Young Lanzavecchia made a sally from the palace, was +wounded, and driven back with a few of his adherents. The rest of the +garrison fled helter-skelter into the town. Never had the musketeers of +Italy—for they all belonged to Spinola's famous Sicilian +Legion—behaved so badly. They did not even take the precaution to +destroy the bridge between the castle and the town, as they fled +panic-stricken before seventy Hollanders. Instead of encouraging the +burghers to their support, they spread dismay as they ran through every +street. Young Lanzavecchia, penned into a corner of the castle, began to +parley, hoping for a rally before a surrender should be necessary. In +the midst of the negotiation, and a couple of hours before dawn, +Hohenlo, duly apprised by the boatman, arrived with the vanguard of +Maurice's troops before the field-gate of the fort. A vain attempt was +made to force this portal open, but the winter's ice had fixed it fast. +Hohenlo was obliged to batter down the palisade near the water-gate, and +enter by the same road through which the fatal turf-boat had passed. +Soon after he had marched into the town at the head of a strong +detachment, Prince Maurice himself arrived in great haste, attended by +Philip Nassau, the Admiral Justinus Nassau, Count Solms, Peter Van der +Does, and Sir Francis Vere, and followed by another body of picked +troops; the musicians playing merrily that national air, then, as now, +so dear to Netherlanders,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Wilhelmus van Nassonwen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben ick van Duytsem bloed.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"The fight was over. Some forty of the garrison had been killed, but not +a man of the attacking party. The burgomaster sent a trumpet to the +prince, asking permission to come to the castle to arrange a +capitulation; and before sunrise the city and fortress of Breda had +surrendered to the authority of the States-General and of his +Excellency.</p> + +<p>"There, I ought not to have read all that long story,—I've tired you +out, I know," exclaimed Kate, apologetically, as she closed her book.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + + +<p>"Tired us out? No, indeed, you haven't," cried the girls in a breath; +and one of the girls was Hope, who had come in softly just as Kate had +begun to read, and who now added,—</p> + +<p>"It's lovely to listen to anything when you read it, Kate."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it!" took up Myra. "Miss Marr ought to pay Kate a salary for the +good she does in this history business. I hate to <i>study</i> it; I always +get all in a wabble with the dates and the names and the places, and by +and by, when I try to tell about it or think about it, I get a +fifteenth-century king into the sixteenth century just as likely as not. +But when Kate picks out her little nuggets of gold from the mass, and +sets them before me, I begin to see daylight."</p> + +<p>"So do I, so do I!" cried Anna Fleming; "and another thing,—I am not +ashamed to ask Kate ignorant questions."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," declared Myra; and then they all laughed, and Myra followed up +the laugh by immediately proceeding to ask two or three of these +"ignorant questions,"—the first being, "If Spain had possession of +Breda, what does it mean by the Italian infantry and cavalry being there +to defend it?"</p> + +<p>"It means that at that time," answered Kate, "Philip II., called Philip +the Prudent, had possession of the better portion of Italy, with other +territory that he had gobbled up, and so, of course, he made use of +Italian soldiers."</p> + +<p>"Who was Lewis William?"</p> + +<p>"He was the stadt of Friesland,—Friesland was part of the Netherlands."</p> + +<p>"Oh, and what became of the dare-devil skipper,—Van der Berg,—your +ancestor?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he didn't come to anything wonderful,—he 'fought and bled' in +freedom's cause like most of those Dutchmen, I suppose."</p> + +<p>"But there was a family of Van <i>den</i> Bergs who were cousins to Maurice," +here spoke up Hope. "Were these any relations to Van der Berg, the +skipper?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no,—we didn't descend from princes and counts," laughed Kate.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe but that it <i>is</i> the Van den you belong to, anyway," +said Anna.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," cried Kate; "if we 'belong,' as you say, to a family of that +early day, it is to the dare-devil Van der Bergs, and that's good enough +for me. My brother Schuyler ought to hear you give preference to the Van +<i>den</i> Bergs. He would be ready to fight a duel with you; for, from a +little boy, he has been perfectly enchanted with that story of the +dare-devil, and when we were all at home five years ago,—little things +of ten and eleven and twelve,—we used to play the story, and we called +it 'The Siege of Breda.' It was when we were up at our summer place on +the Hudson. It was such fun. We had a queer little cottage on the place, +that had a lot of gables and turrets. It was unoccupied, except as a +sort of storehouse for fruit; and this cottage we called 'the castle.' A +rather wide stream of water runs through the grounds, and broadens out +into a sort of miniature lake at the foot of the garden. It was just +across this broader part, where it was also quite deep, that the cottage +showed its turrets and gables, and we got the gardener and one of the +stable men to build up a sort of palisade of bricks and stones and +boards all about it. Inside this we made a guard-house, and the arsenal +was in the castle itself. Then we knew an old sailor who fixed up our +little yacht, made a cabin and hold, where the boys crept in,—the boys +who represented the attacking party, the seventy Hollanders,—and we +packed around them a lot of dry moss we had prepared, to represent turf. +Mr. Brown—our old sailor—also fixed up something that did duty for a +water-gate. Well, when we had got everything as near to our minds as +possible, we dressed ourselves up in our costumes,—oh, yes, we had +regular costumes. My uncle Schuyler said it was a real history lesson +for us, and he should do all he could to help it along; and so he hunted +up some books that had the illustrations of the costumes of that time, +and we got mamma and a seamstress we had to help us make up suits for +us."</p> + +<p>"And did <i>you</i> take part?" asked Myra.</p> + +<p>"Did <i>I</i> take part? Well, I should think I did. <i>I</i> was Captain Charles +de Heraugiere, if you please. And oh, the cunning little suit I had,—a +regular fighting suit of imitation leather and a rough-looking sort of +stuff like frieze, and a sort of waistcoat of chamois skin, and then a +dear little hat with a feather;—oh, and boots with tops that came 'way +up to the knee-bend. We made the tops ourselves of mock leather, russet +color, and sewed them to our russet shoes. Oh, it was <i>such</i> fun!"</p> + +<p>"But your brother—what character did he take?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, there was but one character that <i>he</i> would take, and that was the +dare-devil boatman who stood on the deck and joked with the purchasers +of the peat. You should have seen Schuyler as he did it. It was +moonlight, for mamma and papa wouldn't let us play it as we wanted to on +a dark night, for there might be an accident; but we ran the boat down +by some sheltering bushes, and the boys who took the part of the +purchasers from the castle stood in the lighter place where the +moonlight fell, and that left the place where our hidden soldiers were +quite dusky and mysterious. But Schuyler stood in the light, the moon +shining straight in his face. His suit was a good deal rougher than +mine, but a good deal like it; only he had a cap on, and that was pushed +back, and he looked so handsome and bold when he joked and laughed and +answered the purchasers. Then when we soldiers stole out of the ship +where we were in hiding—What! how could I see Schuyler when I was +hidden? Oh, I peeped through the moss. And how many boys had we? Oh, +twenty in all,—about eight in the boat,—it wouldn't hold any more; but +the eight of them made <i>such</i> a show in their costumes. They were all +our neighbors and close friends, the whole twenty of them. Four were the +Dyker brothers, and the Burton boys with <i>their</i> cousins who had come up +a-visiting them from Philadelphia; and there were our boys and the Van +Loons and Delmars to make up the twenty. But, as I was saying, when we +soldiers stole up out of the vessel, and I marched at the head of my +band, the dare-devil <i>would</i> lead the way. I told him it was all out of +order, but he declared that Captain Heraugiere <i>couldn't</i> know the way +as the dare-devil who had carried the peat so often must know it, and +that of course he must be guided; so I had to give in.</p> + +<p>"We started our play at the point where the officer of the guard puts off +from the castle in a skiff, and comes on board our vessel; then, after +that, we slip down through the water-gate,—of course we don't have any +leak,—the Burton boys and the Van Loons come to the shore and drag us +into the harbor and make the vessel fast, close to the guard-house. It +was just after that, you know, that the dare-devil receives the +purchasers, and goes through all that joking and sending the people off, +saying that he was tired. And then I followed as Captain Heraugiere; and +what do you think!—Schuyler at first wanted to be Captain Heraugiere +too. He said he could easily manage it; but it was when he found he +wouldn't be allowed to gobble up the two characters, he insisted upon +showing the captain the way, and so he stuck to me all through, +flourishing his wooden sword on the slightest excuse. But how we did lay +about us! Whack, whack, we knocked over the Burtons, and all the rest of +the Italians, with the young Lanzavecchia at their head; and then came +the great end of the victory, the arrival of Hohenlo with the vanguard +of Maurice's troops, and then Prince Maurice himself with his fine +attendants,—his counts and admirals, and these were the Van Loons and +the Burtons again, who had rigged themselves up in other clothes,—nice +honest Dutch clothes to play the Netherlander parts. So we turned and +twisted our twenty boys, just as they do on the stage, and you'd have +thought there were a host of them. Well, when the vanguard arrived, we +all joined together and marched into the town—that is, around our +grounds and into the castle, the Dyker brothers, who are musical, +playing the national air with a drum and fife and cornet, and some of +the rest of us, breaking out now and then at the top of our voices into +the chorus,—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Wilhelmus van Nassouwen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ben ick van Duytsem bloed,'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>which means,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'William from Nassau,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I am from German blood.'<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>William from Nassau, you know, was the great Prince of Orange.</p> + +<p>"And marching to this playing and singing, we entered the castle,—our +cottage,—where a table had been set with a lot of Dutch dainties, made +by our German cook, Wilhelmina, who had lived in Holland and knew +everything about the dear little Dutch cakes and things they eat there. +Then, after we had partaken of the feast, the table was carried out, and +we danced to our heart's content. Oh, we did have such a good time, and +we kept it up every year until we got too old for it."</p> + +<p>"What fun it <i>must</i> have been!" cried Myra. "I wish I could have been +there; but didn't you have any other girl but yourself in the play with +those twenty boys?"</p> + +<p>"No, not in the play; but we had plenty of girls as spectators and at +the feast and dancing."</p> + +<p>"And did you ever make a play out of any other historical incident?" +asked Anna Fleming.</p> + +<p>"Yes, several; and I think that is the reason why historical events +became so fixed in my mind, and I got so interested in reading history. +It began by accident, as you might say,—that is, by Schuyler's delight +in the Van der Berg story, and insisting on playing it. It's the best +way in the world, let me tell you, to play history like this,—it +teaches you more than any ordinary study possibly can, and you find that +through it you get events and epochs perfectly clear in your mind, and +everything by and by spreads out before you like reality."</p> + +<p>"I wish Miss Marr would let us have history lessons this way," said +Myra.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps she will, some time, if Kate tells her what she has told us," +said Anna, hopefully; "and you <i>will</i> tell her some time, won't you, +Kate?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll tell her, but I don't think it is the thing to do in school +days; you ought to get it up in the summer, during vacations. It would +interfere with other studies to go into all the preparation and work of +such performances in school."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever like any other of your plays as well as the Siege?" asked +Hope.</p> + +<p>"No, never; but what made you ask that, Hope?"</p> + +<p>"Because it was so stirring and out-door-sy, and the boatman was so +jolly and brave, I thought it wasn't possible that there could have been +another story quite so playable as that."</p> + +<p>"I said the Van der Bergs were proud of only one thing,—this +performance of the boatman; but there was another of our ancestors of a +later day who is very interesting, I think, and just as plucky and brave +in another way."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" ejaculated Anna Fleming, with such an air of anticipation that +they all laughed, for they all knew Anna's weakness for ancestors; and +this "Oh," said very plainly, "Now we are to hear of something more +worth while than an old boatman, something probably about those +aristocratic Knickerbocker ancestors of Kate's."</p> + +<p>Kate herself, thoroughly appreciating Anna's state of mind, went on +demurely: "This ancestor was my mother's great-great-grandfather. He was +the son of a small farmer in England, and he came to New York a poor +boy, with only a few shillings in his pocket; and with these few +shillings he started, and, working at all sorts of things,—as a +stevedore, and anything else he could find to do,—he at last worked his +way up to a little clerkship in a little mercantile house, and from +there he climbed step by step into a bigger clerkship, in the same +little house, and then step by step into a clerkship in a big house, +until after a while, after all sorts of working and waiting and +hardships, he came to be at the head of the big house, and one of the +first merchants of the day in New York. We have in our family now one of +those English shillings that he brought over and saved for luck when he +was working on the wharves, and we keep it for luck; and there +is a packet of old letters and a diary he kept, telling the +whole story, that we have too. Oh, yes, we are very proud of our +great-great-great-grandfather, I can tell you," smiling up at the girls.</p> + +<p>"But where did those lovely old shoe-buckles and gold buttons, and that +old silver with the V. der B. engraved on it, that I saw when I visited +you,—where did those come from, if that boatman was the only Dutch +ancestor you had that you were proud of?" anxiously and disappointedly +asked Anna here.</p> + +<p>"Oh, they came from some of the later V. der B.'s; some descendants that +had nothing specially interesting about them,—were not heroes of any +kind, but just rich old burghers."</p> + +<p>"But weren't they what are called the Knickerbocker families?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but you know how that name came to be given to them, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not exactly," answered Anna, shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"And <i>I</i> haven't the least idea. I know I ought to know, but I don't," +burst out Myra, blithely and boldly; "so do tell us."</p> + +<p>"Well, it came about in this way. Washington Irving wrote a burlesque +history of New York,—that is, it was a burlesque on a pompous handbook +of the city, that had just been published. He called it 'A History of +New York from the beginning of the world to the end of the Dutch +Dynasty, by Diedrich Knickerbocker.'</p> + +<p>"He made up the name of Knickerbocker probably, as people now make up a +name for a <i>nom de plume</i>. But at the time by a facetious advertisement, +such as Hawthorne might have written at a later day,—an advertisement +'inquiring for a small, elderly gentleman, dressed in an old black coat +and cocked hat, by the name of Knickerbocker, who was said to have +disappeared from the Columbus Hotel in Mulberry Street, and left behind +a very curious kind of a written book,'—he fooled some of those Dutch +ancestors of mine into thinking that this was a veritable Dutch name, +and that this old gentleman was a veritable owner of the name, and +writer of the History of New York, which they thought was meant for a +veritable history. Then some of them finding it was a burlesque were +seriously offended, and made a great fuss about it; but in spite of all +this, the name stuck, and as it was really meant as a sort of +interpretation of the aristocratic Dutch character, it was after a while +accepted as a title for the descendants of the old Dutch burghers, and +so grew into a term for the gentry or aristocratic class. That is all +there is to it."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, that proves that you <i>are</i> from the Dutch gentry,—an old +Knickerbocker family!" exclaimed Anna, in a tone of satisfaction, that +brought forth a perfect shout of laughter from Kate, and after the +laughter the immediate answer, "Oh, yes; and the New York head of this +old Knickerbocker family of mine kept a shop down near the wharves, +where he bought and sold flour and molasses, just as that dear old Joris +Van Heemskirk did in Mrs. Barr's dear, delightful story, 'The Bow of +Orange Ribbon.' In trade, you see,—shopkeepers!" and Kate nodded her +head and laughed again, as she looked at Anna, who had a silly way +sometimes of talking as she had heard some English people talk of +"people in trade."</p> + +<p>But Anna, who did not like to be laughed at, any more than the rest of +us, retorted here: "It will do for you to go on in this way about +family, and ancestors, and all that. <i>You</i> can afford to tell the truth +because you <i>do</i> belong and <i>have</i> belonged, or your family has +belonged, for years to the upper class; but if you had only just come up +from—from—"</p> + +<p>"Selling flour and molasses," struck in Kate, mischievously.</p> + +<p>"No, I did not mean that, for I suppose things were different then; but +if you belonged to new rich people,—people who had just made money, +people who had been common working-people, mechanics, or something of +that sort,—you wouldn't talk like this, you'd keep still."</p> + +<p>"Yes, if I belonged to common working-people, people whose minds were +common and vulgar; but how if I belonged to working-people like George +Stephenson, the father of English railways, and the locomotive? Oh, +Anna, <i>don't</i> you remember we had to study up about Watt and Boulton and +the Stephensons last term in connection with our applied-science +lessons?"</p> + +<p>"Last term!" cried Anna; "you can't expect <i>me</i> to remember everything I +studied up on, last term. Things like that don't stick in my mind as +they do in yours."</p> + +<p>"Well, you ought to remember about George Stephenson, who was the son of +a fireman of a colliery engine in England, and how he worked up, and +educated himself, and finally constructed the steam locomotive that made +him famous, and led to his being employed in the construction of the +Liverpool and Manchester Railway. And there was his son Robert, who +followed in his father's footsteps and became an authority on everything +connected with railways and engines; and then there was James Watt, who +preceded them as the inventor of the condensing steam-engine for +manufacturing purposes, which led the way to Stephenson's locomotive. +Watt was only a poor boy, the son of a small trader in Scotland, and was +an apprentice to a philosophical-instrument maker, where he worked so +hard and lived so poorly that he nearly lost his health. Do you think +that men like these wouldn't dare to talk about their humble beginnings? +Do you think <i>they</i> would keep still, or do you think their families +would keep still, because they were ashamed of the humble beginnings? +No, no, not unless they were miserable cowards and didn't know what to +be proud of, and that indeed would make them dirt common and vulgar, and +not deserving their good fortune."</p> + +<p>"Well, I wasn't thinking of geniuses, of course. I don't suppose that +anybody who was connected with such people as you speak of would be +ashamed exactly of the 'humble beginnings,' as you call them,—the +people <i>I</i> mean are the ordinary people, who have just come up from +nowhere, with a lot of money made out of—"</p> + +<p>"Flour and molasses; yes, I see—you think the molasses sticks to them, +and they pretend to ignore it. Well, all I've got to say is that I do so +hate cowardice, I think, if I were in their places, with the molasses so +new and sticky, that I should blurt out, 'Molasses! molasses!' if +anybody so much as <i>looked</i> at me attentively. But goodness, girls, do +you know what time it is?"</p> + +<p>"Half-past eight," guessed Myra and Anna, confidently.</p> + +<p>"Half-past eight! you geese, it's half-past nine."</p> + +<p>There was a chorus of "Oh's" and "Ah's," and then a general good-night +and scampering off to bed.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + + +<p>It was very late before Hope fell asleep that night. Generally sleep +came to her quickly while Myra dawdled and pottered about, until the +lights were put out. But on this night Myra, from her little bed in the +opposite corner of the room, heard her usually quiet room-mate tossing +and turning in a very restless fashion.</p> + +<p>"What in the world is the matter with you, Hope?" she asked her at +length. "Are you ill?"</p> + +<p>"Ill? Oh, no; I'm only a little restless," Hope answered. "I am sorry I +disturbed you,—I'll try to be quieter."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you didn't disturb me, Hope,—such a little thing as that wouldn't +disturb me,—but I thought you must have something the matter with you, +you are such a mouse generally. You're sure there isn't anything the +matter?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, quite sure."</p> + +<p>"Not even Dorothea?"</p> + +<p>"Not even Dorothea? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I didn't know but you had Dorothea on your mind,—that you might +be worrying over her persecution of you,—her determination to make you +play that duet with her," said Myra, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, I don't worry over Dorothea," answered Hope, laughing a little +herself at this suggestion.</p> + +<p>"How Kate <i>does</i> dislike her!" exclaimed Myra.</p> + +<p>"Dislike Dorothea?" cried Hope, startled at this strong assertion.</p> + +<p>"Well, I should say so; and you don't like her any better, either, +Hope-y dear. <i>I</i> think that you and Kate know something about her that +the rest of us don't, for I've noticed from the very first that you were +very distant to her."</p> + +<p>"'Know something about her!' Now, Myra, just because I was not pleased +with Dorothea's ways and have held off from playing duets with her, you +take that extraordinary notion into your head. 'Know something about +her!' Of course, you mean by that, something to her disadvantage. I know +just what you all know, that she is the daughter of the Hon. Mr. Dering +of Boston. What I know to her disadvantage is her lack of good manners, +and that you all know. There, if that isn't enough—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is, it is, Hope-y, do forgive me, that's a dear; I was only half +in fun, anyway. I feel just as you and Kate do about Dorothea; her +manners are horrid, horrid,—so forward and consequential."</p> + +<p>"But I do hope <i>I</i> haven't influenced you to feel in this way, Myra; +that is, that my manner—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, I didn't like her ways at the very first,—they are so +domineering. I dare say the outside is the worst of her, though, and +that very likely she may be good-hearted. But there's Kate Van der Berg, +<i>she's</i> good-hearted, and has good manners too; and isn't she jolly, +Hope? Wasn't it fun to hear her go on with Anna about the flour and +molasses? And, Hope, I do believe that she would do just as she said, if +<i>she</i> were a new rich person,—that is, if she were the kind of girl she +is now. She would just come right out with the flour and molasses,—talk +about everything perfectly frankly, because she hates anything that +looks like being ashamed, anything that looks like cowardice. Yes, I do +believe she would. But <i>I</i> couldn't, could you?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer to this question; and after a moment or two, Myra +looked across at the motionless figure clearly outlined in the +moonlight, and thought, "She's gone to sleep."</p> + +<p>But Hope had not gone to sleep. She was never more widely awake in her +life than she was when Myra asked her question,—never more widely awake +and never more unhappy; for as she lay there motionless and silent, she +knew that she was acting a lie because she did not want to answer that +question,—a question that was almost the same that she had been asking +herself ever since she had listened to Kate's emphatic arraignment of +cowards; for from that moment she had said to herself: "I wonder if I am +not just this kind of a coward, because I have kept silent before these +girls,—have not told them that I belonged to the new rich people,—that +my father was a poor mechanic, and that I—had sold mayflowers at the +Brookside station? Kate would have told them long ago, I suppose, if she +had been in my place. She'd say I was 'dirt common' and vulgar not to +speak of father,—that I ought to be so proud of him that I couldn't +help speaking. And I <i>am</i> proud of him,—I am, I am, nobody could be +prouder,—it isn't that I'm in any way ashamed of anything,—of +<i>anything</i>,—the engineer cab, the workman's clothes, or the +flower-selling; but—but, oh, I couldn't talk about it to those +girls,—they have never known what it was to live differently from the +way they live now, and they would stare at me, as if I were a curiosity, +something unlike themselves, and they'd have so many questions to ask, +because it would all be so odd to them; and then there is Dorothea now, +to make it worse,—Dorothea would take all the dignity out of anything; +and how she would go on about the mayflowers and our quarrel, and +exclaim and wonder and laugh! No, no, I can't bring all this on +myself,—it may be very cowardly of me, but I can't, I can't."</p> + +<p>Agitated by thoughts like these, it was not strange that sleep failed to +come quickly to Hope that night, and that, in consequence, she should +look heavy-eyed and pale the next morning, and that, in further +consequence, Miss Marr, who was very observant, should say: "What is the +matter, Hope? You don't look well." And when Hope had no answer to give +but that she was restless and didn't sleep very well, Miss Marr glanced +at her rather anxiously, and said admonishingly, "I'm afraid you've been +studying too hard, Hope. You haven't? Then you must be homesick." But +when Hope assured her that she couldn't be homesick in <i>her</i> house, Miss +Marr, laughingly declaring that she was a little flatterer, came to the +conclusion that there was nothing amiss that the week's vacation so near +at hand and the New Year festivities would not rectify.</p> + +<p>Where Hope was to spend her week's vacation had been a matter of some +consideration. She would have gone to her grandmother Benham up in the +New Hampshire hills if the distance at that season of the year had not +been an objection. Miss Marr, too, would gladly have kept her little +favorite with her; and there was Kate Van der Berg pining for her +company, backed by Mrs. Van der Berg's cordial note of invitation; and +the Sibleys also—the friends whom the Benhams had met abroad, and who +had spoken to Miss Marr so admiringly of John Benham's "dearest little +daughter"—had entreated her to come to them. Another invitation was +from the Benhams' old neighbors and friends,—the Kolbs. All these +invitations had been received by Hope early in November, and she had +immediately sent them to her parents in Paris, with a little note of her +own, that simply said, without a word of her own personal preference: "I +want you to tell me which place you would rather I would choose. <i>I</i> +like them all."</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Benham laughed as they read these words. They laughed +because this was so like Hope. When she was quite a little girl, her +mother had thought it would be a good plan to teach her to be careful in +her selections, by making her choose entirely for herself what she would +like, and abiding by that choice for the time being. Hope was delighted +with this plan at first. She fancied that with such liberty she was +going to have a very happy time; but after she had made several +mistakes, had chosen what had brought her, if not serious disappointment +and discomfort, a knowledge that she had much better have chosen +differently, she hit upon a little change of plan; and this was to +submit to her mother and father whatever was set before her for her +choosing, with the provision that they should give her the benefit of +their opinions, while still leaving her her own liberty of choice. They +were very much amused at this proposed change, but readily consented to +its being tried; and the trial, on the whole, had turned out very +satisfactorily, the child only upon rare occasions, when greatly tempted +by some special predilection, going against the parental opinion. The +odd plan thus childishly begun had settled into a fixed habit, though as +Hope had grown older it had become little more than an interchange of +opinions. On the present occasion, however, the girl had very evidently +gone back to her first idea, for it was quite plain to both father and +mother that while she had some special predilection for <i>one</i> of these +invitations, she did not want to betray it, as she wanted a perfectly +unbiassed opinion from them,—or, in other words, wanted to know <i>their</i> +preference before she acknowledged her own; and this Mr. Benham decided +at once not to give. "I will write to her that she must make her choice +quite independent of us," he said to his wife. "There can be no harm in +her accepting any one of these invitations, but what we want to know now +is the bias of her own mind."</p> + +<p>John Benham, as well as his wife, had tried, from the very first of +their change of fortunes, to keep Hope untouched by the temptations of +sudden wealth; and one of their fears in regard to the New York school +had been that Hope would meet there girls whose influence might be of a +worldly and fashionable nature. But Miss Marr's reputation for right +thinking and right doing had carried the day over all these fears, and +they had seen no reason from term to term to regret this decision. It +was with no little curiosity, then, coupled with some anxiety, that she +and her husband awaited Hope's choice of invitations. She had now been a +pupil of Miss Marr's a year, a year in close association with the young +people in the school. The parents had seen her twice in this time, and +she had seemed to them the same child Hope. Her letters, too, gave them +very satisfactory accounts of her school life and companions. In all +these accounts the name of Kate Van der Berg held a prominent place, and +they could see that this friend was of more importance to Hope than any +of the other girls. When, therefore, they pondered over Mrs. Van der +Berg's invitation, with its hints of luxurious entertainment, they +thought it quite natural that any girl should choose to accept it. Then, +too, there was Mrs. Sibley, with <i>her</i> offer of hospitality in a fine +house where the visitor would be petted and made much of. If not to the +Van der Bergs', would not any ordinary girl choose to go to this +delightsome place? The Kolbs could offer nothing like this hospitality. +Their house at Riverview was small, their means not large, and their +acquaintance, outside the musicians with whom the old violinist was +brought in contact, very limited, and in this limited acquaintance there +were no young people, except Mr. Kolb's nephew and his little German +wife. But the old violinist's heart was full of warm regard for the +little mädchen whom he had taught for love five years ago, and what he +did offer was out of the fulness of this regard, as the following quaint +letter will show:—</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">My dear little Mädchen</span>,—The good frau and myself have wondered +for long time if the little mädchen remembers the Christmas Day +when she stood beside Papa Kolb, to help him strip the +Christmas tree; and if she remembers, the good frau and myself +wonders if she would not like to stand by Papa Kolb again and +strip a Christmas Tree that shall grow up purposely for her if +she will come to Papa Kolb's house for the holiday week that is +near at hand. The good frau will take best care of the little +mädchen. She shall have the blue and white chamber with the +little porcelain stove, and the good frau will herself make for +her the little cakes she likes so well, and Papa Kolb will make +his violin sing the music that they both love.</p></blockquote> + +<p>"How <i>can</i> the child resist this letter?" exclaimed Mr. Benham, as he +laid it down after reading it twice over.</p> + +<p>"Yes; but you might have asked the same question after reading Mrs. +Sibley's and Mrs. Van der Berg's, with their cordial offers of Christmas +dances and performances," said Mrs. Benham.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I might, but I didn't," replied Mr. Benham, with a smile.</p> + +<p>"No, you didn't; but you must remember though, John, that to Hope, +Christmas dances and matinée performances in a big city must naturally +be more attractive than they are to you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes, of course; and it's of course, I suppose, that any young +girl would naturally prefer the fine gay things that fine gay people can +offer to the more humdrum things that the Kolbs can give."</p> + +<p>It will readily be seen, from this little conversation, where John +Benham's preference lay in this question of invitations; and as a matter +of fact, Mrs. Benham's interests were in the same quarter. They both +leaned very strongly to Papa Kolb's affectionate home offer, but they +were both agreed in their resolve that they would say nothing to Hope of +their feeling.</p> + +<p>In this way they looked to find out the natural bias of the girl's mind, +and ascertain exactly the direction that her tastes and inclinations +were now taking. But as Mrs. Benham read over again the notes from the +Van der Bergs and Sibleys, she felt that it was absurd for her to expect +that a young creature like Hope would turn from such attractions to the +Kolbs, and she told her husband so. Like the man of sense that he was, +Mr. Benham admitted the truth of his wife's conclusions. It was but a +step from this admission to a final agreement that Hope of course, thus +left to herself, would choose the New York gayeties, like any other +girl; and when her next letter arrived, Mrs. Benham ran her little pearl +paper-cutter through the envelope, with the remark, "Now we shall hear +all about the fine preparations for the fine doings at the Van der +Bergs', for I am quite sure it will be to Kate Van der Berg and not to +Mrs. Sibley that the child has chosen to go; and I do hope that Miss +Marr has seen to her preparations, and helped her to choose some new +things, if she needs them. And she must need a new gown or two, and +gloves, and perhaps a fresh wrap, going about as she will with the Van +der Bergs to the holiday entertainments. I told Miss Marr when we came +away, to order anything that Hope needed, if at any time—"</p> + +<p>There was a sudden cessation of Mrs. Benham's voice; then after a +moment: "John, John, what do you think!—"</p> + +<p>Mr. Benham looked up from his desk, where he was busy studying the plan +of a new French locomotive.</p> + +<p>"What do you think, John? She isn't going to the Van der Bergs'!"</p> + +<p>"She prefers the Sibleys, then; well, they'll be very good to her."</p> + +<p>"No, she doesn't prefer the Sibleys,—it's the Kolbs, after all. Do +listen to her letter!" and Mrs. Benham read aloud:—</p> + +<blockquote><p><span class="smcap">Dear Papa and Mamma</span>,—I'm going to the Kolbs'. I wanted to go +the minute I got Papa Kolb's dear kind invitation; but when on +the very same morning I received the two others, I thought I +would send them all off to you, hoping that you would say that +you would like to have me go to the Kolbs'. But when your +answer came, and I knew that I must make my own choice quite +independently of you, I wrote at once to Mrs. Van der Berg and +to Mrs. Sibley, that I had had an invitation from some old +friends who had known me from a little child and been very kind +to me, and I loved them very much, and felt that I must go to +them.</p> + +<p>I told Kate what I had written, and I told her something about +the Kolbs, and that Papa Kolb had been my first teacher; and +she laughed, and said that nobody need expect to get me away +from a fiddler. And she is quite right when the fiddler is Mr. +Kolb. I love Kate Van der Berg dearly, and so would you if you +knew her; and if you had heard her talk the other day about the +right and the wrong kind of pride of ancestry, you would admire +her very much. And I love Mrs. Sibley too, and if there had +been no invitation from the Kolbs, I should have been very glad +to have gone to her or to Kate. But the Kolbs are like—well, +like—like my very own. They have known me so long and I have +known them so long that I feel at home with them all the time; +and then the fiddles and the music and the Christmas +Tree—everything there is what I love best.</p></blockquote> + +<p>Mr. Benham forgot for the moment the locomotive plan that lay before +him, as he listened to this portion of his daughter's letter; and when +his wife put the letter down and said, "We needn't be afraid of Hope's +being spoiled by these fine people, John," his eyes lighted up, as he +replied smilingly,—</p> + +<p>"Hope is set to a home tune, Martha, that she is never going to forget."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + + +<p>Dolly Dering was beating time with her fan to the closing passages of +the Mendelssohn concerto, when she suddenly caught sight of Hope Benham, +three seats before her. Dolly's quick start, and a smothered "Oh!" +excited the curiosity of her companion,—a young cousin of hers,—Jimmy +Dering, who, following the direction and expression of her eyes, +whispered,—</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with her, Dolly?"</p> + +<p>Dolly made no reply, but continued to stare, and, Jimmy repeating his +question, Dolly whispered back: "'Matter with her'? That girl I was +looking at? Nothing; what do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"You looked so astonished I thought she was a ghost, or that something +was the matter with her."</p> + +<p>Dolly giggled under her breath, and whispered: "No, it's only that I was +so surprised to see her here in Music Hall. She is one of the girls from +my school,—Hope Benham. I thought she was going to stay in New York +this week with the Van der Bergs,—awful swells! I wonder who she's +visiting here."</p> + +<p>"Some other 'awful swells,'—Boston swells, I suppose. She looks that +way herself. Why didn't you invite her to stay with you, Dolly?"</p> + +<p>"I should as soon have thought of inviting Bunker Hill Monument,—though +I like her,—sort of—she's stiffish, but fascinating, and plays the +violin like—<i>Oh</i>!" with an emphatic emphasis, to convey the +inexpressible.</p> + +<p>"Like 'Oh'! You must waylay her and introduce me to her, Dolly. I want +to know any girl who plays the violin like 'Oh.' I never heard it played +like that. Say, Dolly—"</p> + +<p>"H—ush!" breathed Jimmy's mother, Mrs. Mark Dering, shaking her head at +the two whisperers, as the violin solo began. Jimmy, who was +enthusiastically fond of the music of the violin, was now quite willing +to be hushed, and, leaning back, gave himself up to silent enjoyment. +Toward the close of the exquisite strains he happened to glance at the +girl three seats in front of him. Her lips were slightly parted, her +eyes were shining, her whole attitude expressive of the deepest delight.</p> + +<p>"How she <i>does</i> like it, and how she knows music!" thought Jimmy. "I'd +like to hear <i>her</i> play the violin. I wonder if I can't manage it. I +mean to make Dolly introduce me to her."</p> + +<p>Hope was pulling up her little sealskin cloak at the end of the concert, +when she heard a voice say: "How de do, Hope? I never was so surprised +in my life as when I saw you here. I thought Kate Van der Berg had +invited you to stay with her through the vacation."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus5" id="illus5"></a> +<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">How de do, Hope?</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>The "deep delight" on Hope's face vanished as if by magic as she heard +this; and as she turned to the speaker, Jimmy said to himself:</p> + +<p>"My! how she <i>does</i> dislike Dolly!"</p> + +<p>When, in the next breath, Dolly repeated, "I thought Kate Van der Berg +invited you to stay with her," Jimmy, who was a little gentleman with +much tact and taste, groaned in spirit: "How could she; oh, how <i>could</i> +Dolly put the thing in that way? As if—as if a girl had only to be +invited by a Kate Van der Berg to accept! As if she couldn't refuse a +Kate Van der Berg, or anybody—such a girl as this!"</p> + +<p>But the next instant Jimmy's groan had become a chuckle as he heard this +girl say: "Yes, Kate invited me to spend my vacation with her, but I had +older friends than the Van der Bergs."</p> + +<p>Not much in the words, but, oh, the way they were spoken,—the tone, the +little straight stare at Dolly! Jimmy, little gentleman though he was, +had a wild desire to throw up his cap and "hurrah" as he looked and +listened. "It was all such a set-down for Dolly," as he told his mother +later. But Dolly didn't seem to mind it much. She colored a bit, and +then she laughed, and then before Hope could make a move away from her, +she was introducing her to "my cousin, Jimmy Dering;" and Jimmy, tactful +little fellow, began to speak in his soft, sweet voice that was like the +G string of a violin, of the music they had been listening to; and he +spoke so intelligently and appreciatively that Hope could not but be +interested; and when, by the greatest good luck in the world for him, he +asked her if she had noticed the beautiful expression on the face of the +first violinist when he played, and then proceeded to tell her that this +violinist was a German, and that his name was Kolb, and that he was a +real genius, Hope turned such a radiant face towards the boy that he was +quite taken aback at the first start; then he thought to himself, "She +appreciates old Kolb as well as we do;" and delighted at this, was going +on to say more, when Dolly's voice again broke in with,—</p> + +<p>"Hope, I want to introduce you to my aunt, Mrs. Dering. This is Miss +Hope Benham, auntie, one of the girls at my school."</p> + +<p>"<i>My school!</i>" Jimmy groaned again when he heard this; and as he +observed Hope's sudden stiffening and coolness, he inwardly exclaimed: +"I shall never hear this girl play if Dolly goes on like this, with +'<i>my</i> school,' and that my-everything-way of hers!"</p> + +<p>But when Mrs. Dering came up with that pretty manner, and said that she +was always glad to meet one of Miss Marr's girls, Jimmy breathed easier; +and when she asked Hope if she was fond of music, and Dolly burst out, +"Fond? You wouldn't ask that question if you could hear Hope play the +violin," Jimmy took courage and said,—</p> + +<p>"Mother, if Miss Benham would only come to our Monday night musicale!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, to be sure," cried Mrs. Dering, delighted at the suggestion. If +Hope was a musical genius, she might perhaps be interested to help them, +for the musicale was for a charity. That she was one of Miss Marr's +girls spoke for her desirability in all other ways. It had got to be a +sort of voucher to be one of Miss Marr's girls.</p> + +<p>"And if you have your violin with you—she's got a wonderful violin, +auntie—and will bring it, and play something for us—it's for a +charity, you know—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, if you would, it would be so kind of you; the charity is such a +worthy one,—a little kindergarten bed at the children's hospital," took +up Mrs. Dering, persuasively.</p> + +<p>"I haven't my violin with me; and—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, that needn't make any difference. I have two, and you can +have one of mine," interrupted Dolly, with perfect confidence.</p> + +<p>"And I have an engagement on Wednesday to another musicale, or rather a +concert," said Hope, finishing the answer that Dolly had so confidently +interrupted.</p> + +<p>"But can't you come and see <i>me</i> some day and—if you'll tell me where +you're staying I'll call on you—I'll call and fetch you any day you'll +say, and Jimmy'll come, and we'll all play together—Jimmy plays very +well."</p> + +<p>Dolly, with this, pulled out a little tablet, and fixing her eyes on it +in a business-like way, said, "Now, then, give me your address; and—"</p> + +<p>"It would be of no use, I cannot come to you, for I return to New York +Thursday morning."</p> + +<p>"But it's only Saturday now—there's four days to Thursday—if you'd say +Monday or Tuesday."</p> + +<p>"I am engaged Monday and Tuesday,—you must excuse me—Ah!" with an air +of relief, "there's Mr. Kolb, I must bid you good-by;" and with a very +polite bow, including the three,—Mrs. Dering, her son, and Dolly,—and +with a very small smile, Hope made her escape, and hastened towards Mr. +Kolb.</p> + +<p>"She <i>knows</i> old Kolb, after all," exclaimed Jimmy, in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"She knows all the musical people that were ever born, <i>I</i> believe," +snapped out Dolly; "stiff as she is, she's just crazy over musical +folks. But did you ever see anybody so stiff and offish as she was?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw anybody so persistent as <i>you</i> were, Dolly; you fairly +pushed her into stiffness and offishness. You asked her to help in the +musicale as if it would be simply a privilege for <i>her</i>, and then, when +anybody could see with half an eye she didn't want to come and didn't +mean to come, you went at her in the same way about coming to <i>you</i>, +whipping out that tablet with a 'Now, then, give an account of yourself' +air that was—that was—" But Jimmy could find no words to express +adequately his feelings on this point, and finished up suddenly in his +wrath and disappointment, "Dolly, you are the biggest bully I ever met. +If you were a boy amongst boys, you'd get a licking!"</p> + +<p>"Children, children, stop quarrelling, right here in public!" admonished +Mrs. Dering, in a low, shocked tone.</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't me that's quarrelling," said Dolly, regardless of grammar and +in a tearful sniffle. "Jimmy's always setting me up to do things for +him, and then he's al-al-always finding fault with the way I do 'em," +Dolly went on, in a still more tearful sniffle.</p> + +<p>"Setting you up to do things for him? What did he set you up to do now?" +asked her aunt.</p> + +<p>"To introduce him to Hope. He wanted to know her, he wanted to hear her +play; and I"—sniff, sniff, sniff—"I—"</p> + +<p>"Well, there, never mind; tell me when we get into the carriage," broke +in Mrs. Dering, mindful of the proprieties, as she saw several persons +observing Dolly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, don't cry on the street,—you might get taken up for a nuisance, +Dol; a policeman's got his eye on you now," growled Jimmy, with a savage +little grin. Dolly had a queer, childish way of accepting everything +seriously sometimes; and the startled seriousness of her face at this +was too much for Jimmy's gravity, and he burst into a fit of laughter +that cleared the atmosphere not a little, and made Dolly herself forget +to sniffle. She forgot also to air her grievance against Jimmy, when, as +they were seated in the carriage, her aunt said animatedly,—</p> + +<p>"Benham—I wonder if this girl is the daughter of a Mr. and Mrs. Benham +I met when I was in Paris."</p> + +<p>"Her father and mother are in Paris now; that is the reason why Hope +doesn't spend her vacations with them," said Dolly.</p> + +<p>"This Mr. Benham was a distinguished scientific man of some sort, I +believe. He was distinguished for <i>something</i>, I know, and he was with +scientific men. I met him at Professor Hervey's, and he came into the +room, I remember, with two or three English gentlemen of note. I +recollect it, because I know I felt quite proud at the time that he was +an American,—he looked so manly and earnest,—and some one told me he +had just had a fortune come to him."</p> + +<p>"Well, Hope's father must have a lot of money, for she's got a violin +that cost enough. It's a regular Cremona."</p> + +<p>"No!" exclaimed Jimmy, incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Yes; she told me it was made by an Italian who was a pupil of +Stradivari and lived in Cremona."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so!" cried Jimmy, excitedly. "How I should like to see +it, for I tell you to see a real old Cremona would be worth while. Lots +of people think they've got a Cremona, when it's only an imitation. Karl +Myerwitz, who makes violins, and knows all about them, told me that if +everybody who claims to have a Cremona violin, <i>really</i> had one, the +number of them would count up to twice as many as had ever been made."</p> + +<p>"Well, all I know is that Hope told me that her violin was made in +seventeen hundred and something by a pupil of Stradivari."</p> + +<p>"Where did her father get it, do you know,—did she tell you that?"</p> + +<p>"An old teacher of hers got it,—a German who has a brother who deals in +rare violins in Paris."</p> + +<p>"How soon did she begin to take lessons?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, when she was quite a little girl."</p> + +<p>"What kind of music—whose compositions, I mean, does she play?"</p> + +<p>Dolly rattled off what she knew of Hope's repertoire.</p> + +<p>"Well, she <i>must</i> have been at it from a small youngster," ejaculated +Jimmy, emphatically, at the list Dolly gave. "And she must have a +great—a <i>great</i> taste for music. The idea of your thinking I would play +with any one who was up to what she is!"</p> + +<p>"But you play very well,—you play better than I do."</p> + +<p>"What's that to do with it? You don't mean to say that you think—that +you propose—" But Jimmy stopped short, remembering the recent outbreak +of sniffles and tears. But he had gone far enough for Dolly to +understand, and she took up his words, not tearfully, but indignantly, +as she replied,—</p> + +<p>"I do mean to say that I propose to play a duet with Hope at school this +very winter."</p> + +<p>"Is it a school arrangement,—Miss Marr's plan? I didn't know that you +studied the violin at Miss Marr's."</p> + +<p>"Well, we do, if we wish to. There is a teacher, a very fine teacher, +who comes in from the outside for that, as there is for the harp, or any +other special accomplishment."</p> + +<p>"Oh! and Miss Benham wants you to practise with her,—I suppose you can +help each other,—I see," remarked Jimmy, demurely.</p> + +<p>"I didn't say she wanted me to <i>practise</i> with her. I said that I +proposed to play a duet with Hope sometime this winter."</p> + +<p>Jimmy made no further remark concerning the matter, but he said to +himself: "Yes, that's it; Dolly has had the nerve to <i>propose</i> to play a +duet with that girl, and my opinion is that she'll get snubbed. Miss +Hope Benham isn't going to stand Dolly's impudence,—not a bit of it."</p> + +<p>"What concert is it, Jimmy, that comes off on Wednesday?" suddenly asked +Mrs. Dering here.</p> + +<p>"I don't know of any except that affair at the Somersets'."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that for Mr. Kolb! I wish I had been told of that earlier. I only +heard about it at the last minute, and then I couldn't get any ticket +for love or money."</p> + +<p>"Mamma tried to get tickets too," said Dolly, "but they seemed to be all +snapped up at the very start by that Somerset clique. I think it was +real mean. There are other people in Boston, besides the Somersets, that +know about music, and can appreciate—"</p> + +<p>"But there was a limit of tickets,—there had to be; for Mrs. Somerset's +parlors, big as they are, can only hold just so many," put in Jimmy, in +explanation.</p> + +<p>"Your young friend may be going to this concert," suggested Mrs. Dering, +reflectively.</p> + +<p>Dolly bounced up like an India-rubber ball at this suggestion, and cried +out,—</p> + +<p>"Why, of course that's where she's going, I might have known it." And +then Dolly leaned back discontentedly, and reflected upon the good +fortune that seemed to attend Hope Benham at every step. There was Kate +Van der Berg lavishing all sorts of attentions upon her; and here was +this testimonial concert that the Somersets had got up for Mr. Kolb, and +that everybody was pining to go to, open to her! "Wonder who she is +visiting, anyway," Dolly pondered, in the course of these +reflections,—"perhaps the Somersets themselves,—'twould be just like +her luck."</p> + +<p>And while Dolly pondered these things, Mrs. Dering mused with regret of +what her musicale had lost, and Jimmy chuckled anew as he recalled "that +girl's" high and mighty manner with Dolly. But his chuckle ended in a +sigh, as he thought: "It's of no use for me to expect to hear that girl +play; Dolly has spoilt all that."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + + +<p>It was "New Year's night" at Miss Marr's, and every girl was as bright +and fresh as if the night before she had not watched the old year out +and the new year in; for the happiness of it all, and the long morning +rest had been like a tonic.</p> + +<p>"<i>Didn't</i> we have a good time last night!" exclaimed Myra Donaldson, in +a sort of general questioning tone, as she stood with a group of the +girls by the big hall-fire, just before the hour appointed for the +guests to assemble.</p> + +<p>"A tip-top time, for that kind of a time," answered Dolly, speaking +first, in her usual forward fashion.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean by 'that kind of a time'?" asked Myra.</p> + +<p>"I mean a girl-party. It was the best girl-party I ever went to; but I +like parties best with boys in 'em, just as I like cake best with +currants or raisins in it."</p> + +<p>The girls all laughed; and Kate Van der Berg called out: "The boys then +stand for the currants and raisins with you, Dorothea?"</p> + +<p>"Of course they do. I hate to dance with a girl; that's one reason I +don't like a girl-party. I never can remember which I am, the boy or the +girl, when the figures are called, and I'm just as likely to prance out +in the square dances as a girl when I'm taking the boy's place, and to +set off in a waltz with the wrong foot, and muddle things generally. +Then we girls see girls all the time, or we see so much more of girls +than we do of boys that we like a change, or <i>I</i> do. I dare say the rest +of you," making up a defiant little face, "don't feel like this at all. +I dare say you had just as lief dance with girls, and wouldn't care if +you never had boys at <i>your</i> parties."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we would; <i>we</i> like currants and raisins in our cake, too, +don't we, Hope?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," laughed Hope.</p> + +<p>"You'd have thought so last year if you could have seen Hope with my +youngest brother, my little eleven-year-old," continued Kate, merrily. +"He thought Hope was just perfect, and the way he followed her up! He +wasn't in the least bashful, like some of the older boys, and he didn't +have the slightest hesitation in trotting after her. <i>I</i> believe he +asked her to dance every dance with him. I know I had to interfere and +curb his ardor, or Hope wouldn't have danced with anybody else, for she +really encouraged him in his attentions in the most decided manner."</p> + +<p>"He was such a dear little fellow," said Hope,—"he told me I was just +as good company as a boy."</p> + +<p>When the laugh that this called forth had subsided, Dorothea said rather +soberly, "I didn't know that you had such <i>young</i> boys."</p> + +<p>"Look at her, look at her!" cried Kate. "Did you ever see such a +worried, disappointed face? But cheer up, Dorothea, cheer up; we <i>do</i> +have a few older ones. My brother Schuyler will be here this year."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Hope, with a falling inflection to her voice, "and not +Johnny?"</p> + +<p>"And not Johnny," laughed Kate; "one at a time, you know."</p> + +<p>"How old did you say your brother Schuyler is?" asked Dorothea.</p> + +<p>"Seventeen,—quite old, you see, for a boy. He'll do for you to dance +with, won't he?"</p> + +<p>"Johnny dances beautifully; one couldn't have a better partner," said +Hope.</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'tisn't only a dancing partner Dorothea wants," spoke up Bessie +Armitage, a keen-eyed, keen-witted girl, whose quiet observation was +never very much at fault. "Dorothea wants a talking partner as well."</p> + +<p>Dolly gave a little conscious giggle, and simperingly declared, with a +toss of her head: "Oh, I know what you mean. You mean that I want a +flirting partner; people are always accusing me of that, and I—"</p> + +<p>"Flirting! how I hate that word, and how I hate the thing itself!" burst +out Kate Van der Berg. "It's the cheapest word, and the cheapest thing +to do; and for girls like us to put on such airs, and think we are doing +something fine and grown-up. My brother Maurice, my oldest brother, has +told me enough what young men think of half-grown girls who do such +things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know; you told me, before I went away, how your brother made +fun of young girls," cried Dorothea, angrily.</p> + +<p>The hot color rose to Kate's very forehead, in her sudden shock of +indignation. Then, as it slowly ebbed away, she said in a low, intense +tone: "I told you that I had heard my brother tell how men either +disliked the pertness of young girls, or else amused themselves by it +for a little while, and then made fun of it,—that was what I said to +you. He did not say that <i>he</i> made fun of them,—he couldn't do such a +thing; and the reason he told me what others did, was to show me how +such things were looked upon."</p> + +<p>"And you told <i>me</i> because you thought <i>I</i> was one of those pert, +forward, bold girls!" snapped out Dorothea.</p> + +<p>"I was not telling <i>you</i> what he said, any more than the rest of the +girls who were present; and what I told was brought out by something +that was said at the time."</p> + +<p>"Something that <i>I</i> said, <i>I</i> know. I was talking about my sister's +gentlemen friends, and I said that I never found it hard to talk to +<i>them</i>; and then you—"</p> + +<p>"Hush, girls, there's the bell; the company is coming," broke in Myra +Donaldson, "and we must get back into the 'drorrin'-room,' as Patrick +calls it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is high time we were all there," said some one here who was +coming up from the lower end of the hall. It was Miss Marr.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if she has heard any of this talk, and how much of it?" +thought Hope.</p> + +<p>But Miss Marr gave no sign of having heard anything of it. She came +forward brightly, smiled on this one and that with equal sweetness, and +playfully drove them all before her into the long flower-scented room.</p> + +<p>The guests were all received in this room; then by twos and threes and +fours, after a little interchange of greetings and introductions, they +were conducted to the elevator and taken up to the great hall at the top +of the house. It was an immense room that Miss Marr had had built +several years ago, when her school plan had grown from its first modest +limit to a promise of its present more liberal dimensions, and was +intended at the start for a gymnasium and play-room. Later it was fitted +up so that the gymnastic appliances could be easily removed, and a +dance-room or recital-hall made of it upon short notice. On the night of +the New Year's parties it always presented a most enchanting aspect, +with its flower and fern and palm decorations, and its soft yet +brilliant lights. Dolly, to whom it was all new and fresh, cried out +enthusiastically as she entered, "Oh, how perfectly beautiful!"</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" agreed another new-comer, a visitor, who was following close +upon Dolly's heels; and this visitor was no less a person than our +friend Jimmy Dering, who had come on from Boston at Dolly's particular +request and to his own particular satisfaction; for now, he argued, "I +<i>may</i> stand a chance of hearing 'that girl' play on that Cremona +violin."</p> + +<p>It was Jimmy's ring at the door-bell that had interrupted that gusty +little conversation in the hall. He was the first guest; and as he came +into the drawing-room quite alone, and heralded portentously by the +solemn butler's loudly spoken "Mr. James Dering," he might have been +expected to flinch a little, especially under the battery of all those +girls' glances; but Jimmy was not a self-conscious youth, and he had a +happy knack of always adjusting himself to circumstances, and making the +best of a trying situation. So now he came forward in his own modest, +pleasant way, without a bit of awkwardness; and though he blushed a +little, it was with such a confiding sort of manner,—a manner that +seemed to say, "Now do be friendly to me,"—that every girl there, +including Miss Marr herself, was his friend at once.</p> + +<p>"He is charming," thought Miss Marr, "so modest and well-mannered, and +with such a bright merry boyishness about him."</p> + +<p>Even Dolly couldn't spoil the impression he made, as she put up her head +and looked about her with a self-congratulatory air, that said +plainly,—</p> + +<p>"Now, this is <i>my</i> guest and <i>my</i> cousin!"</p> + +<p>No, even Dolly couldn't spoil Jimmy Dering's popularity. People liked +him in spite of Dolly, and oftentimes they softened towards Dolly +herself, and forgave her her blundering, domineering tactlessness, +because she was Jimmy's cousin, as these girls did on this occasion, +before the evening was over.</p> + +<p>Kate Van der Berg, who had been very wroth at the start, very much +disgusted with Miss Dolly, who had felt as if she never wanted to have +anything more to do with her, before the evening was over began to say +to herself,—</p> + +<p>"Dorothea must have some good in her, and must belong to nice +people—<i>really</i> nice, well-bred people—to have such a cousin."</p> + +<p>And then when the other boy visitors appeared,—when Schuyler Van der +Berg, Raymond Armitage, Peter Van Loon, and others of the New York +youngsters were in full force,—it was found that they too were taken +captive by Jimmy's pleasant ways.</p> + +<p>"Nice little chap!" said Schuyler to his great friend, Peter Van Loon.</p> + +<p>"Yes," responded Peter; "nicest <i>Boston</i> fellow I've ever seen. Don't +like Boston fellows generally, they're so cocky."</p> + +<p>"And this little chap <i>might</i> be cocky, easy. What do you think,—he's +the quarter-back in the Puritan eleven!"</p> + +<p>"No!" and Peter looked up with greater animation than he had shown since +he came into the house.</p> + +<p>"And he's coxswain in the Charlesgate boat-crew."</p> + +<p>"I say now!" ejaculated Peter, with increased animation.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and he plays the fiddle too,—knows all about music."</p> + +<p>Peter rounded his lips into a whistling shape. Then, "How'd you find all +this out?"</p> + +<p>"His cousin—that big, handsome, black-eyed girl over there, I've just +been dancing with—told me."</p> + +<p>"That girl with the yellow gown and all those daffodils?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"She <i>is</i> handsome, and she knows how to dance."</p> + +<p>"Yes, she knows how to dance, but she rattles too much."</p> + +<p>"But she knows how to dance," repeated Peter, "and I'm going to ask her +to dance with me in the Virginia reel. I always get mixed up in those +old-fashioned things; but this girl will fetch me through, I know."</p> + +<p>And Peter was right. Dorothea fetched him through beautifully, and Peter +didn't in the least mind her rattling. Indeed, he seemed to encourage it +and to be amused by it; for Peter, I am afraid, was that kind of young +man that Kate Van der Berg declared that her brother was <i>not</i>,—the +young man who encourages rattling, to make fun of it. But whatever Peter +did was very lazily done, and his fun-making was confined mostly to his +own inward reflections, with now and then the dropping of a humorous +word to some favorite companion. To be sure, this humorous word of +Peter's had its full effect, for Peter was not a great talker, and as he +was known to be a keen-witted fellow, whatever he did say was made much +of. But Peter himself hadn't a bit of malice in him, and if he had his +laugh now and then at some foolish rattler, I, for one, think the +rattler deserved the laugh, and came off very easily at that; for, as +Jimmy Dering said once of his cousin,—</p> + +<p>"Girls of Dolly's sort have got to learn that people are not going to be +careful of them and their feelings, unless <i>they</i> are careful, to begin +with."</p> + +<p>And I will add that girls of Dolly's sort teach all girls how <i>not</i> to +do it,—how not to romp and rush and rattle, and make themselves objects +of ridicule, in the fond delusion that they are objects of admiration, +as Dolly did on this very night.</p> + +<p>She began her rattle with Schuyler Van der Berg; she kept it up with +Peter Van Loon and fine handsome Victor Graham, and concluded it at the +end of the evening with Raymond Armitage, who was of a very different +fibre from the others,—a harder, coarser fibre altogether.</p> + +<p>But Dolly found Raymond Armitage the most interesting of the four, for +it was Raymond who to her mind was the most polite, the most attractive +in his way of doing and saying things,—his way of listening admiringly +to everything she said, of laughing and applauding all her blunt +speeches and frisky ways. If Jimmy had not been so popular, and +consequently so necessarily engaged in responding to this popularity, he +would have noticed how Dolly was "carrying on," and have tried at least +to check her; but when Jimmy was not talking with a little knot of boys +and girls about boat-crews and foot-ball and the coming season's races, +he was dancing with Hope, and in every pause of the dance he talked +about music; and that entirely absorbed both of them. But there came at +last the grand concluding dance that brought them all more closely +together. It was that concluding dance that Kate Van der Berg had spoken +of as the best fun of all. This dance had been introduced and taught by +Miss Marr herself at the very start of her school, and was by this time +perfectly well known to all her girls, and readily understood by any new +guest of the evening under the guidance of his partner. It was an old +French dance,—a "gavotte," so called. Miss Marr had told them its +history. It was a kind of minuet that Marie Antoinette had introduced as +a pendant to the minuet proper, adding other steps, and renaming it. She +told them that another point in its history was, that the name was said +to be derived from the town of Gap, whose inhabitants were called +"Gavots" and "Gavottes," and that it was not unlikely that it was an old +country dance of that region, and that Marie Antoinette made use of it +in her re-arrangement, and also called it a <i>minuet de la cour</i>.</p> + +<p>But wherever it had its origin, it was a charming dance, and Miss Marr +had been taught it thoroughly in her early youth when she visited her +French relations in France as a pretty French costume-party dance; and +she in her turn had introduced various pretty changes, the prettiest and +most novel being at the very end, where, swinging all around together, +they pair off at last in regular appointed order, and pass through an +archway of flowers, each pair receiving in this passing a beautiful +little basket, its woven cover of flowers concealing two New Year's +gifts,—one a pretty trinket, a ring or brooch or bracelet, sent by some +member of the pupil's family for the pupil herself; the other a comic +accompaniment in the way of a gay mirth-provoking toy, to be bestowed +upon the partner,—the guest of the pupil on this occasion,—these +latter being furnished by Miss Marr, and most choicely selected, some of +them coming from Paris and Vienna. The girls were quite as much +interested in these funny toys as in their own trinkets; and when all +had passed the archway, there was a gathering together of the whole +party, and a great frolic over the examination of the basket's contents; +Kate almost forgetting the glow and sparkle of her new amethyst ring in +the fun of the little gutta-percha man, who was made to wink and laugh +and shake his fist at Victor when it was presented to him by Kate. And +when Hope lifted her basket-cover and found beside the tiny Geneva watch +sent to her by her father, the merry little figure of a girl playing a +violin, while a woolly bear danced before her on a wooden stand, Jimmy, +who was Hope's partner, with gay mimicry began to imitate the bear, and +Kate cried out,—</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you, <i>wouldn't</i> you though, <i>really</i> like to dance to Hope's +playing?" and quick as a flash, Jimmy answered, with a gallant little +bow,—</p> + +<p>"I'd like better to <i>listen</i>."</p> + +<p>"You'd like to listen and to dance, too, if you could hear Hope play the +Gungl' waltzes; you couldn't keep your feet still," added Kate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, if I <i>could</i> hear you play, Miss Benham!" and Jimmy turned eagerly +to Hope. "There are <i>no</i> waltzes I like so well as those. I'm coming in +to-morrow afternoon to bring my cousin some music that I've brought on +for her from her old teacher in Boston, and she is going to try it with +me in the music-room here at half-past three o'clock. Miss Marr has +kindly given us permission, and oh, would you, <i>could</i> you, Miss Benham, +join us at four o'clock and play <i>one</i> of the Gungl' waltzes, just one? +It would give me such pleasure."</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know that Miss Marr would—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am sure she would; I'll ask her.—Miss Marr," and Jimmy put out a +detaining hand, as Miss Marr at that moment was passing, and in three +minutes more his request was made and granted. Hope had her full +permission to join the two in the music-room the next afternoon and play +the Gungl' waltzes if she would like to do so.</p> + +<p>"And you <i>will</i> like, won't you?" pleaded Jimmy, in his <i>naive</i> boyish +way.</p> + +<p>Hope hesitated a second; then, with a little laugh, assented to his +pleading. All this had been a little aside, in the midst of the hum and +buzz of the frolic; and then, just then, it was, that suddenly, over the +ordinary clamor, Dorothea's voice rose in a noisy laugh above +everything, and her exclamation, "I told you I'd get even with you!" was +heard from end to end of the hall.</p> + +<p>Jimmy started as he heard it.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> Dolly carrying on like that for?" he thought.</p> + +<p>Miss Marr, too, started forward, with the same thought. And there was +Dolly, still laughing loudly, and shaking a carnival figure of paper, +free of the last scrap of its contents of sugary snow, over the person +of Mr. Raymond Armitage, her gay threat of getting even with him the +culmination of some joke that had passed between them. Miss Marr, as she +started forward, had evidently an intention of putting a decided check +upon Miss Dorothea then and there; but a look at Jimmy's face, and his +half-uttered "Oh, if Dolly <i>would</i> think what she's about!" seemed to +change Miss Marr's intention somewhat, as it tempered her feeling; for +as she caught sight of the boy's face, she said to herself,—</p> + +<p>"Poor little fellow, I won't add to his discomfort by speaking now."</p> + +<p>And so Dolly went on in her wild way unchecked except by Jimmy's, +"Don't, Dolly, don't! You 're making <i>such</i> a noise, and everybody's +looking at you."</p> + +<p>But Dolly only laughed at this. She was having a very jolly time. She +fancied it was a very successful time, and that she was really the belle +of the evening, because Raymond Armitage plied her with flattery, and +because a good many of the others watched her with what she supposed +were entirely admiring glances. Getting glimpses of herself, too, in a +large long mirror occasionally, she saw that she had never looked +better; and, in fact, she did look very handsome, with her clear, bright +complexion, her silky black hair and brilliant eyes, framed in golden +yellow, and "all those daffodils," as Peter Van Loon had said. Yes, she +was looking very handsome; they all recognized this,—all these young +fellows who looked at her, and laughed and chatted with her, and +criticised her as "a rattler."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + + +<p>The next afternoon at half-past three o'clock Jimmy made his appearance +punctually at Miss Marr's, and was received with great satisfaction by +his cousin.</p> + +<p>"It's such luck that you got Hope to come and play with us. I must say +you know how to manage people, Jimmy," cried Dolly, gleefully, after she +had greeted him.</p> + +<p>"Play <i>with</i> us! She's coming to play <i>for</i> us, or for me, the Gungl' +waltzes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, she'll play that duet with me now, and you'll play our +accompaniment."</p> + +<p>"I shall do no such thing. I am going to play <i>your</i> accompaniment now. +Miss Benham isn't coming in until four, and after she plays the waltzes +I shall go away. As if I should take advantage of her kindness in such a +manner! And how <i>you</i> can think of doing it, I can't understand, Dolly."</p> + +<p>"Yes, now begin to find fault with me!"</p> + +<p>"Find fault with you! I should think I might. You do such things, Dolly. +Last night, now, everybody was looking at you."</p> + +<p>"Why shouldn't they? A cat may look at a king, and I had an awfully +pretty gown, Jimmy;" and Dolly began to hum the closing bars of the +gavotte.</p> + +<p>Jimmy saw how she understood, or <i>mis</i>understood things, and burst +out,—</p> + +<p>"Look here, Dolly, don't you fancy now that those fellows were thinking +of your good looks and nothing else all the time they watched you. I +know fellows better than you do. I don't say they didn't <i>like</i> your +looks, that they didn't admire you, but I <i>do</i> say they didn't admire +the way you went on."</p> + +<p>"'The way I went on'? What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> know,—the way you giggled, and tossed your head, and 'made +eyes,' as the French people say, at that Armitage fellow. I didn't +happen to be near you to notice what you were doing until the last of +the evening, but that was enough. I knew, by what I <i>did</i> see, how you'd +been going on, for I've seen you at a party before, Dolly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what you mean; you mean that I flirt. I've heard that +before, Jimmy. <i>I</i> can't help it if I have more attention than other +girls, just because I'm lively, and know how to talk."</p> + +<p>"Flirt! yes, that's what you call it,—that giggling, and tossing your +head, and saying pert things. It's like a girl at a Park Beach +picnic,—what you call 'flirting.' It is vulgar, and that's what all the +fellows I know think of it; and while <i>you</i> think they are paying you +admiring attentions, they're just having fun at your expense; and it +makes me ashamed, for you are my cousin, and—"</p> + +<p>"And you are the most conceited boy that ever lived. You think you know +<i>everything</i>, and you don't know <i>any</i>thing about society. A girl is +always older than a boy in all society matters; everybody says so; and +though you're sixteen, and I'm only fifteen, I'm a whole year ahead of +you,—you're just a <i>little boy</i> to <i>me</i>. One of my sister's friends, a +<i>man</i> who knows, said to me, <i>this</i> vacation, that I seemed to be +eighteen rather than fifteen."</p> + +<p>Jimmy stared at his cousin for a moment in sheer astonishment; then he +exclaimed,—</p> + +<p>"Dolly! what <i>are</i> you thinking of, not to see—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know what you're going to say,—not to see that it is I who am +conceited."</p> + +<p>"And where did you get all that stuff in your head about society; and +what idiot told you you seemed to be eighteen rather than fifteen?"</p> + +<p>"It was no idiot," triumphantly; "it was Mr. George Atherton."</p> + +<p>"George Atherton. Oh, then it is you who are the idiot not to see that +Mr. Atherton was poking fun at you, or else he meant that you <i>looked</i> +eighteen with your height and size altogether. But it is of no use +talking to you, I see that."</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't of the slightest use. We've wasted time now,—the time we +ought to be trying this nocturne; and, if you please, Master Jimmy," and +Dolly bowed, with a patronizing air, "we'll begin to play, or we sha'n't +get through before Hope comes in."</p> + +<p>Jimmy stared again. He was seeing Dolly in a new phase. Instead of +flying into a passion, instead of turning upon him with tears and +reproaches, she stood her ground with a semblance of cool superiority +that astonished him. What did it mean? Was she getting so spoiled and +puffed up by her vanity that the truths he had placed before her went +for nothing against the flattery that she provoked? He knew that Dolly +was not very finely sensitive, was what he called "dense;" but he had +never thought that her good sense could be obscured by this density to +the extent of making her positively impervious to criticism, as she +seemed to be now. But such really was the fact. Not finely sensitive at +the start, as I have endeavored to show, Dolly was full of +self-confidence, and also full of animal spirits. With such a +combination of qualities, it was not strange that she should be +convinced that her own way was the only right way, and when led by her +vanity through a little additional flattery, this conviction became so +strong that no amount of criticism or opposition could move her. It +would be only through some individual experience, some suffering in +connection with this experience of having her own way, that Dolly would +be likely to have her eyes opened to her own mistakes, and be able to +see where she had blundered and what her blunders meant to others, as +well as herself. Fresh, however, from what she thought her success of +the night before, even Jimmy's words of protest, which usually moved her +either to anger or tears, had no effect upon her. For the time she felt +herself vastly superior to Jimmy in years and judgment, and from this +standpoint she had met his criticism with a calmness that he could not +at first understand. Of course this assumption of superiority was not a +little irritating to Jimmy, modest though he was; and as he sat there +playing the accompaniment to the nocturne, and pausing at almost every +bar to correct Dolly's false notes, he was also pondering over her false +notes in more important directions, and puzzling himself with +suppositions as to her present attitude.</p> + +<p>They were in the last passages of the piece, and Dolly was listening to +his corrections in an absent-minded way that exasperated him, when the +door opened, and there was Hope, with her violin, followed by Myra +Donaldson, who was to play her accompaniment. Dolly did not wait to +finish the bar she was scraping at, but jumped up at sight of Hope, with +a "Oh, there you are, and you've got that dear little violin. Isn't it a +beauty, Jimmy? See here!" and with one of her quick, confident +movements, she took the instrument—one could almost say she snatched +it—from Hope's hands, and held it out to her cousin, pointing to the +shape and the beautiful red coloring with its dark veining, repeating, +as she did so,—</p> + +<p>"See! isn't it beautiful?"</p> + +<p>She was turning it over, when Jimmy said, with a certain quick, sharp +note in his voice,—</p> + +<p>"I hope you'll excuse my cousin, Miss Benham; she has been so used to +handling her own violin carelessly she forgets that other people may +feel differently with regard to their instruments; and—"</p> + +<p>"Jimmy is as cross as two sticks this morning, Hope; he's done nothing +but lecture me ever since he came in," Dolly declared airily; but at the +same moment she gave the violin back into its owner's hands, to the +owner's great relief, who could not help glancing gratefully at Jimmy as +she received it. This glance of gratitude did more to restore Jimmy's +good-humor, that had been so sorely disturbed, than anything else could +have done; "for," he said to himself, "she doesn't think I'm exactly +like Dolly if I <i>am</i> her cousin, and, in spite of Dolly, I believe we +should be first-rate friends if we saw more of each other."</p> + +<p>He was still more convinced of this possible friendliness as he listened +to Hope's playing,—as he saw how thorough an artist she was, how she +loved and lived in her music, when the violin was in her hands. No silly +little tricks about her, no showing off in her pose and expression like +some girl-players he had seen,—like Dolly, for instance,—and yet how +pretty she was, with that smooth, brown hair ruffling out around her +forehead, and the color coming and going, and the brown eyes, too, +coming and going, as it were, in their expression, as she played. As +pretty as Dolly <i>and not thinking</i> about it,—not thinking about it a +bit, as she stood there, an image of grace, her chin bent lovingly down +to her violin, her skilful hands evoking such exquisite strains. And +those waltzes! Were there any that were ever written fuller of perfect +melody? So absorbed was Jimmy in all this listening and looking, he +quite forgot that he had meant to run away directly after Hope had +played. Dolly saw that he had forgotten; and while he was yet in the +tide of his enthusiastic thanks for the Gungl' waltzes, she slipped the +duet she had brought down with her on the music-rack, and said,—</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus6" id="illus6"></a> +<img src="images/illus6.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">She stood there an image of grace, her chin bent lovingly down to her violin</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Now, Hope, do just try this with me."</p> + +<p>"Dolly—Miss Benham must be tired; she must want to rest," broke in +Jimmy, his face flushing, his tone revealing his mortification.</p> + +<p>Hope saw the flush, and noted the tone. She could not add to his +mortification, and going back to the music-stand, she said quietly,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is one of those pretty folk-songs. Yes, I'll try it with you; +I'm not tired."</p> + +<p>And so it was in this way that Kate Van der Berg's prophecy was +fulfilled.</p> + +<p>"I knew it would come about, I knew it, I knew it!" cried Kate, +triumphantly, when Myra Donaldson told her what had happened, "for I +never saw such a persistent girl in my life as Dorothea,—so persistent +and so thick-skinned."</p> + +<p>"But Hope couldn't help giving in to her," explained Myra; "she was so +sorry for Dorothea's cousin."</p> + +<p>"Of course. I do wonder if Dorothea was clever enough to see that,—to +plan it, perhaps."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think she planned it, and I don't think she saw in the +least why Hope gave in to her. She probably thought Hope had the leisure +just then, and felt like it."</p> + +<p>"Well, she <i>is</i> the queerest girl; but her cousin is a dear little +fellow. My brother Schuyler and Peter Van Loon like him immensely. +Schuyler likes him so much he wants to get him to come up and visit us +this summer. I hope he will; he knows everything about a boat, and that +means a great deal in the way of a good time with us."</p> + +<p>"Why don't <i>you</i> invite Dorothea to come up with him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, why don't I?" and Kate laughed. Then all at once she burst out +seriously: "How she <i>did</i> go on at the party; and look here, Myra, I'll +tell you something if you won't speak of it to any one,—any one but +Hope,—I've told Hope."</p> + +<p>"No, I won't say a word about it."</p> + +<p>"Well, you saw how she carried on,—flirted in that silly, loud way with +Raymond Armitage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you think? She—she's carrying on the flirtation still."</p> + +<p>"No—no, you don't mean it!"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"<i>How</i> is she carrying it on?"</p> + +<p>"The next day after the party, the next morning,—that's day before +yesterday,—I was down early, hunting for my carnelian pin; I'd dropped +it somewhere, and I thought it might be in the reception-room, as I +missed it soon after I had left the room to go upstairs the night +before. I found it at last under a chair by the window. It was a little +bent, and I stood at the window trying to straighten it, when I saw +three or four of the Institute boys coming along on their way to school. +One of them was Raymond Armitage; and as he passed by, I heard him say +to the others,—</p> + +<p>"'I have a note from my sister that I've got to leave here. Walk on +slowly, and I'll catch up with you.'</p> + +<p>"Ann was in the hall dusting, and so his ring was answered immediately; +and as the reception-room door was ajar, I heard him say to her,—</p> + +<p>"'Will you give this note to Miss Dorothea Dering?'</p> + +<p>"Then I knew that he dropped something, some piece of money, into the +girl's hand, for I could hear her say,—</p> + +<p>"'Oh, thank you, sir, I'll go right up with it now,' which she did the +instant she had closed the door."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I ever!"</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute; this isn't all. Just after luncheon that very day, mamma +called and took me down town to be measured for my new jacket. After +that was over, I sat waiting in the carriage, while mamma went into a +shop to give an order. Michael drew up just beyond to make room for +another carriage, and that brought us right in front of Huyler's; and +there, through the clear glass of the door, I saw Dorothea Dering and +Raymond Armitage laughing and talking together at the ice-cream soda +counter."</p> + +<p>"Of all—"</p> + +<p>"But wait again; this isn't all. At the same hour after luncheon to-day, +as I came along the corridor past Dorothea's room, I saw Ann standing at +the open door, and whipping out from under her apron what I knew at once +was a box of candy, and I heard her say, 'The same young gentleman as +sent the note, miss.' Now, what do you think of all this?"</p> + +<p>"I think it is perfectly disgusting. What are you going to do about it? +Something ought to be done to stop it."</p> + +<p>"What <i>can</i> I do?"</p> + +<p>"Oughtn't you to tell Miss Marr?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose I ought, if nothing else will do; but I hate to be a +tell-tale. Boys never tell tales of each other. I've got brothers, you +know, and I've heard them talk so much about that. I've heard Schuyler +say that girls grew up to be women gossips because they tattle so much +at school. If I thought it would do any good, I would speak to Dorothea; +but she would resent it, and would very likely tell me, in her blunt +way, that she could manage her own affairs, and that I'd better mind my +own business, or something of that kind."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose that she would; but it <i>is</i> our business as well as +hers, when she is doing something that is going to hurt the school. What +did Hope say when you told her about it?"</p> + +<p>"She said it ought to be stopped some way, just for that reason,—that +it would hurt the school dreadfully, as well as Dorothea, and nearly +kill Miss Marr."</p> + +<p>"Of course it would; it's so vulgar and cheap. When did that cousin of +Dorothea's go back?"</p> + +<p>"Yesterday."</p> + +<p>"He was staying with some relatives, wasn't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, cousins, I believe."</p> + +<p>"Why couldn't somebody tell <i>them</i>? They might stop it; and it must be +stopped, or—you know what Miss Marr <i>might</i> do? She might, you know, +send her home,—expel her at once."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I thought of that; and that was one reason I had for not telling +her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's all so silly! What fun could there be in sneaking off to drink +ice-cream soda with Raymond Armitage?"</p> + +<p>"No particular fun in the soda itself. The fun to Dorothea was just the +sneaking off. You can see she thinks she's having 'great larks,' as +she'd call it,—is being independent and having adventures and being a +great flirt, and that Raymond Armitage admires her for it. And Raymond +Armitage is simply laughing in his sleeve at her. Oh, I should think any +girl would have better sense, better taste; and Anna Fleming talks about +her family."</p> + +<p>"But she isn't the only one of her family. There's her cousin; look at +him: he's a little gentleman if ever there was one. What would he say to +her if he knew? And just think! there she was back again, playing on her +violin with him as cool as you please, directly after her lark, and no +doubt pluming herself on it."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what excuse she made to get off as she did?"</p> + +<p>"Excuse? You don't suppose she made any excuse? Not she. She just +skipped out, in the rest hour, when Miss Marr and the other teachers +were off duty; and she managed to come back at the right time. Oh, it +makes me more and more indignant the longer I think of it, for it's a +bigger shame because Miss Marr is so nice about our school parties and +our receptions, and treats us like ladies, and trusts us to <i>be</i> ladies, +and not to deceive her. But hark! it's striking six, and I must get +ready for dinner."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + + +<p>"Yes, I suppose that is the best thing for me to do; but oh, Hope! you +don't know, you can't think how I dread it."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can <i>think</i>;" and Hope laughed a little.</p> + +<p>"She'll be so angry she'll say horrid things to me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you may count on that."</p> + +<p>"<i>When</i> would you tell her?"</p> + +<p>"I'd go now and tell her this very minute, it ought to be done at once."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! well, I'll take your advice, and you'll wait for me here, +won't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'll wait for you here and study up my history lesson."</p> + +<p>"All right; and wish me courage and success." Then, with a little nod +and a rueful smile, Kate Van der Berg went on her mission to Dorothea; +for it had finally, after much consultation between the three friends, +been thought best for Kate to go straight to Dorothea and appeal to her.</p> + +<p>Dorothea was at the desk in her room writing a note as Kate entered,—a +note she hastily turned over blank side up as she saw her visitor. There +was a rather flurried look on her face, as Kate said, "Am I interrupting +you?" though she answered readily enough, "Oh, no; I thought it was one +of the servants when you knocked, that's all." Then, not very cordially, +"Won't you sit down?"</p> + +<p>This was not a very promising beginning, and Kate's heart began to fail +her. At this point, however, she caught sight of a photograph. It was +the photograph of Raymond Armitage, and her courage returned.</p> + +<p>Dorothea had seen her glance of recognition, and remarked coolly: "Isn't +it like him? He's very handsome, I think, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know," stammered Kate; then, throwing all hesitation to the +winds, she began to speak, and this she did at the start in the kindest, +gentlest way in the world, telling of what she had seen and heard, as +she had told Hope and Myra, and winding up with: "I felt that I ought to +speak to you—to tell you what you might not know—how much all this +would affect Miss Marr and injure yourself; that if—if she heard—if +she knew—she might—might write to your parents, and ask them—to—to +take you home."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see—expel me, that's what you mean. The old cat, she won't do +any such thing! I never saw anything like the way you all go on over +that woman. I like her well enough. I was tremendously taken with her +and her tailor gowns when I first came, but I didn't bow down before her +as the rest of you did, and I have never believed she was of so much +consequence as she was set up to be; and as for her throwing away a lot +of money by sending a girl off for being a little independent and having +a little fun in her own way, she's too smart to do any such thing. My +gracious! I should think I had tried to set the house on fire by the +fuss you make! And what have I done? Just had a little sociable time +with an acquaintance without asking leave of her High-and-Mightiness."</p> + +<p>Kate had hard work to control herself. At the phrase "old cat," her very +soul had risen up in revolt. To speak in such terms of Miss Marr!—Miss +Marr, who was so fine and sweet, so considerate and sympathetic, who was +indeed like an older girl friend to them all. And then, "What have I +done? Just had a little sociable time with an acquaintance, without +asking leave of her High-and-Mightiness." Kate lifted up her chin +suddenly, as she recalled these words, and as coolly as she could, +said,—</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know that if you <i>had</i> asked for leave to write notes to +Raymond Armitage, and to receive them from him, and to make appointments +with him to go down town, and all that, it would have done no +good,—that, of course, Miss Marr, or any head of a school, would not +have given you permission."</p> + +<p>"No, of course they wouldn't; but that's only one of the stiff little +bars that boarding-schools set up."</p> + +<p>"And you wouldn't want to do such things half as much if there were no +bars against them."</p> + +<p>"But what harm is there in 'such things,' as you call them? Suppose my +cousin Jimmy was at boarding-school, and took a notion to write a note +to a girl, and to meet her down town and drink ice-cream soda with her, +would any teacher think he had done such a dreadful thing,—a thing for +which he deserved to be expelled?"</p> + +<p>"They'd think he had done wrong in going against the laws of the school, +but it <i>wouldn't</i> do him the harm that it would a girl, because a girl +is supposed to be a little differently situated from a boy. If she has +been brought up like a lady, she isn't expected to be planning meetings +with young men on the sly. She is supposed to have a little dignity; and +as everybody knows that no boy would think of proposing such silly +out-of-the-way things to a girl unless he had been encouraged by her to +dare them, so the girl who is found to have gone on in such silly ways +is talked about as bold and unladylike, and that is an injury that may +leave a black and blue spot on her forever; and you must see, if you +will stop to think about it a minute, that such a girl would injure the +school she happened to be in,—would leave a black and blue spot on +that."</p> + +<p>Kate had tried to be very forbearing at the start; but as she was +confronted by Dorothea's density, as she saw how vain and foolish, not +to say ignorant, were her estimates, her patience gave way, and she +spoke the whole of her mind then and there, without reserve and without +softening her words. It is needless to say that Dorothea was furious to +be called by implication bold and unladylike, and a possible injury to +the school. Out of this fury she burst forth,—</p> + +<p>"I never, never in all my life heard of such impudence! <i>You</i> to talk of +being brought up like a lady! You are the most conceited, meddling, +<i>un</i>ladylike girl I ever met! What business is it of yours, anyway? Who +set you up to manage this school? You think you can manage everybody, +and that you know more about society and propriety than anybody else. +You're nothing but a Dutch girl, anyway; and as for being expelled from +this school, I'll expel myself if this kind of interference is to be +allowed. I'm about tired, anyhow, of such a peeking, prying, +puss-puss-in-the-corner place. Miss Marr is making you into a little lot +of primmy old maids just as fast as she can; and I for one—"</p> + +<p>But Kate did not wait to hear any more of this outburst. She did not +dare, in fact, to trust herself to reply. Hope, who was sitting curled +up in the library waiting, as she had promised, heard the quick, flying +footsteps, as they came along, and said to herself, "She's had a horrid +time, I know." But <i>how</i> horrid she had not imagined until poor Kate +poured forth the story. It was a very honestly told story,—not a word +of her own part in it omitted in the whole detail. But as she thus +honestly, and with just her own peculiar lift of the head and emphatic +way, repeated all she had said, Hope's lips began to twitch, and at last +she began to laugh.</p> + +<p>"How mean of you!" cried Kate. Then she joined in the laugh, as she +realized how little adapted her words had been to soften Dorothea, and +how fully adapted to rousing her resentment and rebellion.</p> + +<p>"But I began beautifully, Hope. I was as mild and persuasive as +possible; but when she called Miss Marr 'an old cat,' I <i>couldn't</i> keep +on being mild and persuasive. How could I?"</p> + +<p>"I think it must have been hard work, and I don't wonder you said just +what you did; and perhaps, after all, the plain truth, though it makes +her so angry now, will have the most effect in the end."</p> + +<p>"Yes, in the end; but—but, Hope, what I've been afraid of is that +she'll do something right away,—something reckless and daring, just to +show she isn't afraid of anything and doesn't care."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't think of that; but I don't believe she will. She'll +remember what you said about Miss Marr's writing to her parents, and +that will stop her."</p> + +<p>"I don't know," responded Kate, doubtfully. "She looked to me as if she +would brave anything, she was so angry."</p> + +<p>For a day or two the three—Hope and Myra and Kate—were on the <i>qui +vive</i>, expecting some catastrophe; but as at the close of the second day +everything seemed to go on as usual, and Dorothea, with the exception of +holding aloof from them, was the same as ever, they relaxed a little of +their apprehension.</p> + +<p>Once or twice in these days they had noticed that Bessie Armitage had +regarded Dorothea with a queer, quizzical sort of look,—"Just as if she +knew something was or had been going on," Myra declared.</p> + +<p>Hope laughed at this declaration. What could Bessie know? She was not a +boarding-pupil, only "an outsider," as they called the girls who were +the day pupils; and the outsiders never knew what was going on in the +house unless some one of the boarding-girls told them, and there was +certainly no one to tell Bessie about this affair.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps Raymond may have told his sister," suggested Myra.</p> + +<p>"Raymond Armitage!" exclaimed Kate. "Not he; there are brothers and +brothers. Raymond Armitage is not one of the brothers who are +confidential with their sisters. It would be much more his way to tell a +boy friend,—to tell him and brag about it to him. That's just the kind +of boy Raymond Armitage is, in my opinion. I like Bessie, but I never +liked that brother of hers. I never like boys who have such awfully +flattering ways with girls. Raymond Armitage is always paying +compliments to girls, always agreeing with everything they say, or +pretending to. He—he's—I don't know just how to put it—but he's too +conscious all the time. Now, there's Peter Van Loon and Victor Graham +and that nice Jimmy Dering, they're polite enough for anybody; but they +treat me as if I was a human being like themselves, and agree with me or +disagree with me as they do with each other. They're honest, and that's +the kind I like and trust, and I don't trust the other kind. I always +feel as if these smiling, smirking, constantly agreeing kind were making +fun of me."</p> + +<p>"So do I," "And so do I," exclaimed Hope and Myra, in a breath.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + + +<p>The next day was Saturday, and directly after a very early +twelve-o'clock luncheon the girls were all going to the Park to skate. +Miss Marr had a cold, and was not able to accompany them, as she usually +did on these outings. She sent, in her stead, two of the under +teachers,—Miss Stephens and Miss Thompson.</p> + +<p>"And if we <i>can't</i> have Miss Marr, Stevey and Tommy are not bad," Kate +Van der Berg declared, rather irreverently, as she ran up to her room to +make herself ready. Several girls were following in her wake; amongst +them was Dorothea, who suddenly retorted to Kate's words,—</p> + +<p>"Perhaps <i>some</i> of us had quite as lief have Stevey and Tommy as Miss +Marr."</p> + +<p>It was the first time that Dorothea had responded even indirectly to any +remarks of Kate's since their stormy interview; and though there was a +sharp flavor in what was said, Kate held herself in, and did not reply +to it. But one of the younger girls called out in protest,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, how can you say that! There's nobody like Miss Marr. I never skate +half so well with any one else as I do with her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you are contented to skate <i>her way</i>, I suppose," flung back +Dorothea, with a little disagreeable laugh.</p> + +<p>"Course I am, because she knows just how; and so her way's better than +mine," was the innocent answer to this.</p> + +<p>"And I like <i>my</i> way best sometimes, and take it," returned Dorothea, +with another disagreeable laugh.</p> + +<p>Kate understood perfectly well that these flings were aimed at her, and +not at little Lily Chester; but she was determined to take no notice of +them.</p> + +<p>Dorothea, however, in spite of this sudden outburst of rancor, seemed to +be in excellent spirits, and laughed and talked with one and another of +the girls with even more than her usual volubility. Arrived at the Park, +however, her spirits seemed to flag. Kate, who had caught her quick, +searching glance across the pond, thought at once: "She is disappointed +in not finding somebody here that she expected. I wonder if it is +Raymond Armitage?" But just at that moment a shrill halloo reached Kate, +and wheeling about she saw Peter Van Loon, with her brother Schuyler and +little Johnny, skating down the ice towards her, and Dorothea and her +affairs vanished from her mind. It was some time later that she was +curiously recalled to her, by Peter Van Loon suddenly exclaiming, +"Hello, there's Armitage now, going off with the daffodil girl!"</p> + +<p>"The daffodil girl!" What did he mean? Kate followed the direction of +Peter's eyes, and saw Raymond Armitage with Dorothea, who had a lot of +daffodils stuck in her belt,—a fresh offering, evidently, from her +escort.</p> + +<p>"But why do you call her the 'daffodil girl?'" asked Kate, wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know she had such a lot of them when I first saw her—and with +the yellow gown—she looked all daffodils, and I didn't know her name +then."</p> + +<p>"And so you called her 'the daffodil girl;'" and Kate laughed: this was +so like Peter.</p> + +<p>"Yes; so I called her the 'daffodil girl,'" assented Peter, smiling a +little at Kate's laugh.</p> + +<p>The pond by this time had become pretty well covered with skaters, and +it was not easy to keep any one in view; but Dorothea was tall, and for +a while the nodding plumes in her hat were distinctly visible to Kate +and her companion, as they held on their way; but presently the nodding +plumes turned in another direction, and they lost sight of them, and out +of sight was out of mind again. In the mean time Hope, with Schuyler Van +der Berg and little Johnny, was coursing about in the merriest manner, +little Johnny proudly showing Hope how to use a hocky stick on the ice. +In this absorbing occupation the two approached the spot where some of +the attendants and chaperons of the different parties were made +comfortable; and as they did so, Hope, to her surprise, saw Dorothea +Dering leaving the ice in company with Raymond Armitage.</p> + +<p>What did this mean? Dorothea was always the last one to leave the ice. +But there was Miss Stephens—Miss Stephens would know what it meant; and +skating up to her, Hope asked the question, and was told, in Miss +Stephens's placid, easy way, that Miss Dering had got tired of skating, +and Miss Bessie Armitage and her brother, who were just leaving, had +taken charge of her to Miss Marr's.</p> + +<p>Dorothea tired of skating at this early hour? Why, they had but just +begun! And where was Bessie? Miss Stephens had said, "Miss Bessie +Armitage and her brother;" and she, Hope, had only seen the brother, +Raymond Armitage. Perhaps, however, Bessie had gone on ahead; +but—but—and a whole host of suppositions came crowding into Hope's +mind. If it had been any other of the girls, none of these suppositions +would have arisen. If Myra Donaldson or Anna Fleming had confessed to +being tired, and had given out that she was going home under the escort +of Bessie Armitage and her brother, who would have thought but that it +was the most natural and proper thing in the world, and who—<i>who</i> would +have thought of questioning the statement as it stood? But Dorothea, +with her little plots and plans, had clearly shown herself another +person entirely, and it was little wonder that Hope, under the +circumstances, should suspect further plotting and planning.</p> + +<p>"What is it,—what's up?" asked ten-year-old Johnny, as his companion +suddenly forgot all interest in the hockey stick, and stood balancing +herself on her skates, with a puzzled frown drawing her brows together.</p> + +<p>For answer, Hope turned about with a "I don't know, Johnny, but we'll go +and find Kate. I want to ask her something."</p> + +<p>"All right;" and Johnny struck out to the left, where he saw his +sister's Scotch skating-cap, with its glittering aigrette, shining in +the sun.</p> + +<p>"Tired of skating? Gone home?" cried Kate, when Hope told her story. "I +don't believe it! Schuyler!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wouldn't!" expostulated Hope.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I'm going to ask Schuyler—I want to know—Schuyler, did Raymond +Armitage come out in the same car with you?"</p> + +<p>"Part way, but he left the car at Madison Square; he had ordered some +theatre seats, and he stopped at the theatre to see if they were all +right."</p> + +<p>"Oh, and then he came on here to meet Bessie?"</p> + +<p>"Bessie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; funny, though, I haven't seen her. Have <i>you</i> seen her?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And yet Hope says that Miss Stephens told her that Dorothea had got +tired of skating, and gone home under the escort of Bessie Armitage and +her brother."</p> + +<p>"Miss Stephens?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Stephens, one of the under-teachers, who is blind and deaf +about some things,—a good, dear stupid, who thinks everybody is a lamb, +and Raymond Armitage the Prince of Lambs, I suppose, and like the father +of his country, and cannot tell a lie, and—"</p> + +<p>"But perhaps Bessie was just ahead, and Miss Stephens <i>did</i> see her," +put in Hope.</p> + +<p>"And didn't take her for granted," scoffed Kate. Then, as she caught a +look that her brother and Peter exchanged, she cried,—</p> + +<p>"What is it? Peter!" bringing one little skate-clad foot down on the ice +with an emphasis that sent out a shower of sparkles, "tell me instantly +what you know. Don't you see, you two boys, that it's for the credit of +the school,—of dear Miss Marr, of Dorothea (silly goose that she is), +and all the rest of us,—that this kind of thing shall be nipped in the +bud? Don't you see that you <i>ought</i> to tell what you know, that some of +us can stop the foolishness, and save Dorothea from being sent home?"</p> + +<p>"Come now, you don't mean that;" and Peter stopped short in that odd way +of his.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do mean that Miss Marr would send Dorothea straight home if she +heard of her going off for a lark with Raymond Armitage. She says at the +start that her school is neither an infant school nor a reform school, +and if she finds that girls of fifteen and sixteen don't know how to +behave like ladies in the ordinary ways of good manners, they are not +the kind of girls she wants in her house, and so she sends them out of +it. There isn't any nagging or any little punishments. She advises us +and talks to us in a nice friendly way at the beginning, and sometimes +later; but she lets a girl alone enough to find out just what she is, +and <i>then</i>, when she finds out that the girl has faults and habits that +may injure the other girls, she won't have her in her school; and so now +I want you to tell us—Hope and me—what you know about this going off +with Raymond Armitage, so that—"</p> + +<p>"You may go and tell Miss Marr, and have her pack the girl off home."</p> + +<p>"Schuyler!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, I didn't mean exactly that, of course; but what <i>do</i> you +propose to do?"</p> + +<p>"Stop the foolishness, whatever it is, that may be going on."</p> + +<p>"Well, after what you told me the other day of your undertaking in that +line with this particular party, I shouldn't think you'd attempt +anything further with her."</p> + +<p>"But somebody must do it. I don't like Dorothea, I didn't from the +first; but I want her to have another chance, and I do so hate to have +things come to the pass of her being expelled; it would be perfectly +horrid for all of us. But we're only wasting time if you won't help us +by telling—"</p> + +<p>"But what is it you want to know?"</p> + +<p>"What <i>you</i> know; in the first place, if Ray Armitage said that he was +coming here to meet his sister, and if he <i>expected</i> her to be here?"</p> + +<p>"Well, no; he didn't say anything about his sister."</p> + +<p>"Did he say anything about Dorothea?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"That he was coming here to meet <i>her</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And that he was going to take <i>her</i> with him this afternoon to the +matinée?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Then, oh, Schuyler, you <i>must</i> come with me down to the Madison Square +Theatre and head them off!"</p> + +<p>"Head them off! They've got there by this time."</p> + +<p>"No; they were going out on the other side, where they had just left +Miss Stephens, because <i>that</i> was the way they would take to go straight +to Miss Marr's. Don't you see? Ray Armitage's cunning! Now, if <i>we</i> go +out on this side, and take the elevated, we shall get ahead of them, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Well, I just sha'n't do anything of the kind! I'd like to see myself +playing private policeman like that! If the girl is such a blooming +idiot as this, she won't pay any attention to you! No, I guess I don't +try any such missionary work, to be laughed at by all the fellows in +town."</p> + +<p>"Laughed at!" A glance upward as she said this, and Kate caught the grin +on Peter Van Loon's face, and burst forth: "Oh, that's all your +manliness is worth! You're afraid,—afraid some other selfish fellows +will laugh at you for doing your duty."</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't <i>my duty</i>!"</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't, Kate; he's right."</p> + +<p>Kate turned about in astonishment, for it was Hope who had spoken, and +Hope who went on speaking,—</p> + +<p>"And <i>you</i>—<i>you</i> ought not to go, Kate; Dorothea would—would—"</p> + +<p>"Be madder than ever. But what <i>can</i> be done?"</p> + +<p>"<i>I'll</i> go."</p> + +<p>"<i>You?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley. I've just caught sight of her; see, she is over +there talking to Johnny. If I tell her how it is—what I want to do, +she'll understand, she'll be glad to help; and Dorothea will listen to +her, when she wouldn't to you or to me, I dare say."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's a much more sensible plan than yours, Kate," commented +Schuyler Van der Berg, as Hope darted off; "but all the same it's my +opinion that Miss Dorothea Dering isn't going to be kept from that +matinée performance, even if they catch her in time."</p> + +<p>"Which they won't," spoke up Peter, as he looked at his watch.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + + +<p>And Peter was right; for, as Mrs. Sibley and Hope neared the theatre, +they saw Dorothea's nodding plumes just disappearing through the wide +open doorway.</p> + +<p>"And we're too late," cried Hope,—"too late, after all."</p> + +<p>"Too late to try to prevent the girl from going into the theatre,—yes, +and I thought we should be when we started; there had been too much time +lost before you spoke to me. We should have taken the car that preceded +the one that we came in; but I doubt if it would have done any good if +we <i>had</i> been earlier. But I'll tell you what we'll do now. We'll go in +to the matinée ourselves. Miss Marr," smiling down at Hope, "would be +perfectly willing that you should go under my chaperonage."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, yes, of course."</p> + +<p>"You see, in doing this, we may be able to help this foolish girl, after +all, by taking her home under our escort, after the matinée is over. She +will hurry out, naturally, to get home before dark, and I am sure even +such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser for her to go +back to Miss Marr's in our company than with young Armitage."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Sibley, you don't think it is wrong, do you, for us to keep all +this from Miss Marr,—to go on covering everything up from her while we +try to get Dorothea out—out of all these queer ways of hers? It makes +me feel as if—as if there might be something sly and underhand in going +on like this,—something like being disloyal to Miss Marr, and deceiving +her."</p> + +<p>"You needn't worry about that, my dear. I know Angelique Marr, and I am +sure it would be a relief to her to have Dorothea helped out of her +queer ways, as you put it, by girls like you and Kate. Miss Marr knows +perfectly well that a <i>teacher's</i> opposition wouldn't influence a girl +like Dorothea favorably,—that it would be more likely to rouse a +counter opposition. It is only girls of her own age who would be likely +to influence her; and so, knowing this, the teacher has to be silent a +good many times when she may suspect things that she would <i>like</i> to +oppose; then, when the flagrant offence is forced upon her, there would +be no alternative but to see that the offender was punished according to +the stated rules of the school government, if the school itself was to +be respected and to maintain its position."</p> + +<p>Greatly comforted by these words, Hope followed Mrs. Sibley into the +theatre. There had been no difficulty, even at this late moment, in +obtaining very good back seats,—seats from which one could command an +excellent view of the audience, if not of the stage; and Hope at once +began a careful survey of this audience, her far-seeing young eyes +roving rapidly from section to section in keen investigation. She was +suddenly interrupted in this investigation by a whisper from Mrs. +Sibley.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you looking too far down in front? Isn't that the girl?"</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"Two rows in front of us, to the right."</p> + +<p>Hope looked in the direction indicated; and there, two rows in front, to +the right, sure enough, was Dorothea.</p> + +<p>She was laughing and whispering with her companion, evidently in the +gayest spirits; and Hope's heart sank within her at the thought of what +she had undertaken, as she caught sight of her. Why, oh, why, had she +been so rash as to think of interfering with this girl in any way? For, +as she regarded her there, she felt sure that she would look upon their +suggestion of taking her home as an interference, to be resented and +rejected. "Even such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser +for her to go back to Miss Marr in our company than with young +Armitage," Mrs. Sibley had confidently declared. But Mrs. Sibley didn't +know Dorothea, Hope now reflected, as there came crowding up to her, at +the sight of that handsome, arrogant face, all her own bitter knowledge +of her. And with this knowledge, why—why had she been so rash? And to +have brought kind, sweet Mrs. Sibley here to be, perhaps, insulted; for +if Dorothea <i>did</i> resent their suggestion, she wouldn't hesitate to +express herself with her usual freedom. For a moment, overcome by all +these thoughts, poor Hope had a mind to say to Mrs. Sibley: "Our plan +won't be of the slightest use. Dorothea won't accept our offer, and we +might as well give it up." The next moment, ashamed of her cowardice, +she said to herself: "How can I be so mean? It's my duty to go ahead and +try to carry out what I've undertaken. If I fail—if Dorothea does turn +upon me, I must bear it,—that's all."</p> + +<p>And with this resolve, she directed her attention to the stage. It was +only when the curtain fell after the first act that she glanced again +towards the pair to the right. She was just in time to see Mr. Raymond +Armitage bowing with effusion to a party of ladies several seats in +front; and then, evidently with a word of explanation and excuse to +Dorothea, he jumped up and went forward to speak to them. The youngest +of the party was a very elegant young woman, whose notice seemed to be +much appreciated by Mr. Raymond Armitage, as he bent before her. The +other ladies, too, were apparently of consequence to him. But when Hope +saw him linger beyond the moment of greeting, her glance wandered back +to Dorothea. What did Dorothea think of being left to herself like this +by her fine escort? There might be the excuse of some message or other, +for his leaving her for a moment, but to linger moment by moment <i>for +his own pleasure</i>,—yes, that was it,—how would Miss Dorothea take +this? A sudden turn of her head showed Hope pretty plainly how she took +it, for in place of the gay satisfaction that had made her face radiant, +there was a very unmistakable look of astonishment and mortification.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Sibley, who had also been observant of this little by-play, here +whispered to Hope,—</p> + +<p>"How rude to leave her like that!"</p> + +<p>"And how mortified she is—look!" responded Hope.</p> + +<p>Several times after this they saw him make a movement as if to return to +his place, but each time some word addressed to him by one of the ladies +would be enough to detain him. When finally he did return, the orchestra +was playing the last of its selections before the rising of the curtain +again. That he was profuse in his apologies, the two interested +observers could plainly perceive. They could also perceive that Dorothea +was by no means disposed to accept these apologies in a benignant +spirit. At last, however, he seemed to make his peace in a measure, for +a half smile began to hover about Dorothea's lips, and by the time the +curtain had risen again, and the merry little play that was on the +boards was again making everybody laugh, Dorothea was joining in the +laugh as heartily as any one. The play ended in a little whirlwind of +applause. In the midst of this, Mrs. Sibley noticed that young Armitage +was hurrying his companion off in great haste, and whispered to Hope,—</p> + +<p>"They are hurrying probably to catch the next car; and if we go put at +once by the right aisle, we shall meet them face to face, and it will be +quite easy for you then to propose to take Dorothea with us. She <i>must</i> +see the point,—that it is much better for her to go back to Miss Marr's +in our company, and be glad of the opportunity we offer her."</p> + +<p>Hope nodded assent; but her heart quaked, as she followed Mrs. Sibley +through the passages between the seats, and fancied that moment when she +should meet Dorothea face to face and see her stare of astonishment, and +then, oh, then, hear, perhaps, her scornful rejection of the opportunity +offered her! But they were not to meet Dorothea face to face as they +came out on that right aisle. A little delay in pushing through brought +them behind instead of in front of the pair, and—</p> + +<p>"No, I thank you, I can find the car by myself!" were the words that +they heard on that instant; and the tone in which these words were +delivered was sharp and angry, not the tone of friendly agreement. +Evidently young Armitage had not waited for his companion to suggest +that she had better return without his escort to Miss Marr's door, and +evidently Dorothea had resented the fact that the suggestion had come +from him.</p> + +<p>"But you ought not to be angry with me," they heard him protest. "I +shouldn't think of letting you go alone if it wasn't better for you. The +car is on the line of your street, and you might meet—might meet—one +of your teachers, you know, and that would make trouble for you. It's +just to help you that I—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, really, it's a pity you didn't think of this earlier before you +said we would go back by the other line, where we shouldn't run the risk +of meeting the teachers."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know; but as I have come to think it over, I see that the other +cars will keep you out so much longer, I thought you would rather—"</p> + +<p>"As you have come to think it over <i>since you met your friends</i>, you see +that it will be more convenient for you not to take up the time by going +round by the other line. Perhaps your friends want you to find <i>their</i> +car for them. Anyway, whatever engagement you've made with them, don't +keep them waiting for <i>me</i>; I can find <i>my</i> car by myself, as I said."</p> + +<p>"Miss Dering!" in an expostulating tone, "I haven't made any engagement +to hurry me away; I'm only going to dine at the Waldorf by and by with +these friends,—they're Washington friends of my mother and Bessie,—but +I needn't hurry, not the least, and of course I shall take you home by +the other line if you like that best."</p> + +<p>"But I don't like it best—<i>now</i>. I—I—"</p> + +<p>Hope here caught sight of Dorothea's face,—the quivering lips, the eyes +that were striving against tears,—and obeying a swift, warm impulse of +pity and sympathy, forgot her fears in it, and called out softly,—</p> + +<p>"Dorothea! Dorothea!"</p> + +<p>Dorothea turned a startled glance behind her at this call. Then, "What! +<i>you</i> here, Hope?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley."</p> + +<p>"Oh, and you're going straight home—to Miss Marr's? Mrs. Sibley is to +take you?" stepping back to Hope's side.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And may I—will you let me come with you?" in a whisper, and clutching +Hope's wrist nervously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, oh, yes; I was going to ask you if you wouldn't like to come with +us."</p> + +<p>"Were you?" A quick glance at Hope from the black eyes still struggling +against tears, a closer clutch upon Hope's wrist, then a sudden +conquering of the quivering lips, and, "I needn't keep you waiting any +longer, I have found friends who will take me home," Mr. Raymond +Armitage was told with a dignity that surprised and rather abashed him. +Hope, too, was surprised at the real dignity displayed, and slid her +hand into the hand that was clutching her wrist, with a sudden movement +of approbation and sympathy. Dorothea gave a quick start, and turned an +inquiring look upon Hope's face at this movement,—a look that seemed to +ask, "Do you really feel like this toward me?"</p> + +<p>With wise forethought, Mrs. Sibley, on leaving the Park, had directed +her coachman, who was awaiting her with the carriage at that point to +drive round to the theatre and await her there. If he did not find her +ready for him at once, he was to return at four o'clock. She had thus +provided for either result of her expedition. If the elevated, swift +though it was, did not enable them to reach the theatre in time to +interview Dorothea as she arrived, the carriage would be on hand at four +to take her back with them after the play, for Mrs. Sibley had no manner +of doubt from the first that the girl would go with them, though she +little thought it would be under the present conditions.</p> + +<p>Indeed, she had looked forward to a very different state of things; and +sure though she felt of ultimate success, she fully expected to bring it +about by adroit management. Instead of this, however, here was this +difficult-to-be-dealt-with Dorothea not only willing, but gratefully +glad, to avail herself of the opportunity offered her.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + + +<p>"And you mean that you <i>won't</i> tell her about Ray Armitage's rudeness?"</p> + +<p>"No, I won't tell her if you feel like this,—if you don't want me to +tell her."</p> + +<p>"Of course I don't want you to, but of course I expected that you +<i>would</i> tell her; she's such a chum of yours. I know it would have been +the first thing <i>I</i> should have done with a chum of mine."</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> should have spoken of it to Kate, naturally, but for your +feeling; and she would have been very nice about it, just as indignant +and disgusted with him as I am."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps so; but she's tried to do me good and failed too much to be +very sorry for anything that would mortify me; and I <i>know</i> if she heard +of this rudeness to me, she'd think it served me right,—would teach me +a lesson."</p> + +<p>Hope couldn't help laughing a little at this. Then she said suddenly, +"How do you know that I don't feel just the same?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know you don't exactly approve of me; but you haven't cut me up +as she has, and then tried to set me right in that superior way; and you +haven't meddled with me or my affairs."</p> + +<p>"You don't know what I have done. You took it for granted that I +happened to go to the theatre with Mrs. Sibley to please myself, that I +happened to be behind you, and so happened to hear your talk with +Raymond Armitage. But I <i>didn't</i> go there to please myself. I went there +on purpose to—to meddle with you and your affairs!"</p> + +<p>"What in the world <i>do</i> you mean?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you." And then and there Hope told the whole story of her +meddling, and why she did it,—the whole story, from the moment she had +observed Dorothea leaving the Park with Raymond Armitage to her own +departure with Mrs. Sibley; and this, of course, included the +consultation with Kate, and the information regarding Raymond Armitage's +movements that was wrung from Schuyler Van der Berg. As she neared the +end of this story, Hope rose from her chair. Dorothea would not now +desire her presence, as she had desired it a few minutes ago when they +entered the house together after Mrs. Sibley had left them, and when, +full of relief and gratitude, she had said: "Oh, do come up to my room +for a few minutes! I want to ask you something." No, she would no longer +desire her presence, even with the added relief,—the added debt of +gratitude for Hope's voluntary offer to say nothing of Raymond +Armitage's rudeness. She would not only no longer desire her presence, +but she would doubtless turn upon her with hot resentment, as she had +turned upon Kate on a previous occasion; and it was to avoid the +outburst of this resentment that Hope rose to make herself ready to +leave the room when she had come to the end of her story. But as she +said her last word, as she turned to go,—</p> + +<p>"Don't, don't go!" was called after her, in a queer stifled voice, not +at all like Dorothea's usual high loud tones when she was protesting +against anything,—a queer stifled voice that had—could it be +possible?—a sound of tears in it? and—and there was a look in +Dorothea's eyes,—yes, a look, as if the tears were there too, were +almost ready to fall.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus7" id="illus7"></a> +<img src="images/illus7.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">Don't, don't go</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>A lump began to rise in Hope's throat. Had she been too harsh in what +she had told, or in the way she had told it? Had they all been too +harsh, too cold in their treatment of this girl's offences? It was true +that they were all against her,—the "all" who comprised the little set +of the older girls, and perhaps—perhaps—But what was that that +Dorothea was saying?</p> + +<p>"I think you've been awfully kind to take all this trouble for me; and +I've always thought you were so indifferent,—that you didn't in the +least care what became of me."</p> + +<p>"Kind? indifferent? I don't understand," faltered Hope, staring blankly +in her amazement at Dorothea.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should never have thought of your taking the least trouble, +putting yourself out for me. I knew you didn't approve of me very much, +but I supposed that you were so indifferent that it didn't matter to +you. I don't half believe, and I never have, that such dreadful +consequences would come of going against Miss Marr's rules; but <i>you</i> +do, I see, and it was awfully kind of you to take all this trouble to +pull me out of the danger you thought I was in,—awfully kind, and I +sha'n't forget it; and if you call this meddling, it's a very different +sort of meddling from some other people's. It's easy enough for some +folks to <i>talk</i> and criticise everything you do, telling you what you +ought and what you ought not to do, as if you were a mere ignoramus. I +never would stand that kind of thing. Yes, it's a very different sort of +thing that you've done, to put yourself out, and maybe run a risk +yourself in doing it; and then to promise, as you have, not to say +anything about that horrid part of the whole affair,—Raymond Armitage's +hateful impoliteness! Well, I don't think there are many girls that +would hold their tongues like that; and I—I—I just—just—love you for +it!" wound up Dorothea, her voice breaking in a sudden little tempest of +tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I—I—I'm not what you—what you think—I'm not—I don't +deserve—you don't know me," stammered Hope, astonished and embarrassed +beyond words.</p> + +<p>"I knew you from the first, the very first," went on Dorothea.</p> + +<p>Hope started.</p> + +<p>"From the very first, when I saw you coming down the corridor that +afternoon I arrived, as the kind of girl I'd like,—a girl who wouldn't +be mean and meddlesome; and I knew you were a lady of the real stuff, +and you <i>are</i>—a long shot ahead of most of 'em here; and oh, I say—" +Dorothea had now conquered her tears,—"aren't you the girl I saw last +year at Papanti's with the Edlicotts?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Well, you look so like her I thought you might be, or some relation of +hers maybe. You're just of her stamp, any way. Anna Fleming is always +talking about those Knickerbocker Van der Bergs as if they were ahead of +everybody else, and she is always quoting Kate Van der Berg as being so +swell in her looks and her manners. Looks and manners! I told Anna the +last time she said this to me, that <i>you</i> were a great sight <i>more</i> +swell. And you are. Oh, I know who's who; there can't anybody tell <i>me</i>! +Manners! I don't call it very good manners to talk <i>at</i> people as Kate +Van der Berg has talked at me, with all that stuff of what her brother +Schuyler says about girls. She never liked me from the start, and she +did what she could to set you, and, for that matter, the rest of the +girls against me. I soon caught on to that. If it hadn't been for her—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dorothea! Dorothea!" burst in Hope at this point, "I can't let you +go on any more like this,—it would be mean and cowardly and +dishonorable in me. You're all wrong, all wrong! Kate hasn't set me or +any one else against you. You don't know, you don't remember—you think +I—I would have been more—more sociable—more friendly, if it hadn't +been for Kate, but—but it is—it is Kate who would have been more +sociable, more friendly perhaps, if it hadn't been for me! <i>You</i> have +forgotten <i>me</i>—you have forgotten that we have ever met before, +but we have, and <i>I</i> have never forgotten, for you—you hurt me +horribly—horribly at that time. I remember everything about it—every +word; and when I met you in the corridor, the day you arrived here in +the autumn, I knew you at once, but I saw that you had forgotten me, and +I—"</p> + +<p>"But when—where—how long ago was it—that time we met first—and what +in the world did I say to hurt you so?" interrupted Dorothea with +wide-open eyes of amazement.</p> + +<p>"It was at Brookside, years ago."</p> + +<p>"At Brookside? I never knew a girl like you at Brookside."</p> + +<p>"Not like me now. I was only ten years old then, and I—was selling +mayflowers in the Brookside station."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I remember! I remember!" cried Dorothea, leaping down from the bed +where she was sitting. "And you—you are that girl?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my father was an engineer on that road, and couldn't afford to buy +me what I wanted more than anything in the world—a violin, and I +thought I would have to give it up—to go without it, until one day on +the street I heard a boy with a basket of mayflowers crying 'Ten cents a +bunch,' and then I saw how I might earn the money that I wanted so much, +and buy my violin myself."</p> + +<p>"And you—<i>you</i> are that little girl—that little 'Ten-cents-a-bunch,' +as I called you afterward to my father! Oh, oh, it all comes to me now; +how mad I got because you stood up to me, and talked back to me. I +suppose I was a great inquisitive brat, and fired off a lot of +inquisitive questions at you,—I was always asking questions,—and you +got mad at 'em and went for me, and then <i>I</i> got mad with you, and we +had a regular squabble. I told my father about it, and he laughed and +said, 'I don't think you had the best of it, Dolly;' and then I +remember, too, something he said to Mary, my sister,—Mary had taken a +great fancy to you,—something about your father knowing a lot about +engines,—being a genius at that kind of thing; and then papa laughed +again and asked me, if your father should turn out a millionaire some +day, how'd I like my impudent little girl—that's <i>you</i>, you +know—turning into a millionaire's daughter, and I said I'd say,'Ten +cents a bunch to her,' and I have, I have! For your father <i>has</i> turned +into a millionaire, hasn't he? and that's what it means, your being +here, and your having a Stradivari violin! Oh, oh, oh, it's just like a +story, just like a play—a Cinderella play; but," catching a queer +expression on Hope's face, "I'm awfully sorry I hurt your feelings as I +did, but you mustn't lay it up against me,—nobody ever lays anything up +against me. I didn't <i>mean</i> to hurt your feelings, but I didn't know any +better then, and anyhow, everything's come out all right for you +now,—you've come up out of the soot and ashes just as Cinderella did, +only <i>your</i> soot was engine soot, and you've come up at the top of +everything, and I <i>do</i> say, <i>now</i>, that you are a great sight more swell +in your looks and your manners and in <i>yourself</i> than Kate Van der Berg, +I don't care <i>what</i> soot and ashes you came up from."</p> + +<p>The queer expression on Hope's face had by this time deepened into +something that looked like a wondering smile, a smile that seemed to +say, "How perfectly astonishing this girl is!"</p> + +<p>Dorothea saw the smile, and with a sudden acuteness that now and then +came to her, hit upon its meaning, and cried out,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see what you think,—I surprise you all round, I know, I'm so +outspoken and blunt. Jimmy says I'm beastly blunt sometimes. I suppose +in the first place that you expected me to have laid things up against +you as you did against me; but, goody gracious, I never remember a +quarter of what I say nor a quarter of what anybody else says after a +while, and I'm always ready to make up, to jump over anything that's +disagreeable if I'm met half-way; and you,—well, you've met me more +than half-way in this business about Raymond Armitage, and if I <i>had</i> +laid up anything you'd ever said,—and I do remember," laughing, "you +said I was the most ignorant girl you'd ever seen,—I couldn't be mad +with you for it now. No, I couldn't be anything but friendly to +you,—and it's such jolly fun, too, the whole story,—my not remembering +you, and the way it's turned out, and all; but look here, what's that +you said about Kate Van der Berg,—that she might have been more +sociable if it hadn't been for you? Did you tell her—I suppose you +did—of our first meeting in the Brookside station, and the scrimmage we +had, and that I hurt your feelings so dreadfully?"</p> + +<p>"No; but after you had been here for a little time, Kate noticed that +I—was rather stiff toward you."</p> + +<p>"Yes, stiff and offish, but dreadfully polite, and in spite of it—the +offishness, I mean—I liked you. <i>Isn't</i> it funny? But go on—Kate +noticed that you were stiff toward me—"</p> + +<p>"And she asked me what it was that I disliked in you, and I told her +just this,—that you and I had met long ago when we were little girls, +and that you had said something then that had hurt me that I had never +forgotten, but that you had forgotten it and forgotten <i>me</i>. That was +all. I thought it was better to tell her what I did than to try to turn +the subject, because if I tried to do that she would have thought the +matter worse than it was."</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose she told the girls what you said, and made much of it, +and—"</p> + +<p>"She told no one. I asked her at once not to speak of it, and she +promised that she wouldn't, and I know that she didn't."</p> + +<p>"But you—I don't see, when you have talked with her, as you must have +done, you are so intimate with her—about your mayflower business and +everything—how you could help mentioning our scrimmage."</p> + +<p>"I never have talked to her about the mayflower business, as you call +it."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say that she doesn't know that you sold those flowers to +buy a violin?"</p> + +<p>Hope colored painfully as she answered,—</p> + +<p>"I—I have never said anything about those things to her."</p> + +<p>"You haven't? Well, now look here; you've been so nice keeping <i>my</i> +secret, I'll keep yours. The girls, not one of them, shall hear a word +from me of that poor time and the flower-selling,—not one word; you can +trust me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, Dorothea! You think I am ashamed of that 'poor time,' as +you describe it,—that dear time, it ought to be described. No, no, it +isn't because I was ashamed of that time that I haven't spoken to Kate +or to the others, it is because I'm always shy of talking about myself, +always, and I was more than ever shy of talking to girls about a way of +living and doing that they knew nothing of, and that they would wonder +at as I told of it,—wonder at and stare at me in their wonder, because +they knew nothing only of one kind of living and doing,—<i>their</i> kind. +It would have been like what it is sometimes for a musician to play to +an audience a new composition that is full of strange chords and +harmonies. The audience listens and wonders but doesn't understand, and +so is not in sympathy with the player, and the player is made to feel +awkward and uncomfortable, and as if he had made a mistake in producing +the composition at that time. That was what I knew that I should feel if +I talked to these girls. Don't you see what I mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see, now that you've put it before me in this way, but I +shouldn't, if you hadn't laid it out as you have; and—well, I suppose I +might have felt just as you did in your place, only I shouldn't have +known how to explain it to myself as you have."</p> + +<p>"And then after <i>you</i> came," went on Hope, more as if she were relieving +her own mind than addressing any particular person, "after that, it +would have been more difficult to talk of that old time—"</p> + +<p>"Because you thought I'd stowed away in my mind that old squabble just +as you had, and would jump on you, and say a lot of disagreeable things. +Well, I might have burst out with a lot of remarks and exclamations and +questions, and stared at you as you say you expected to be stared at, +but I shouldn't have had any feeling of spite against you, any more than +I have now this minute, for, as I tell you, I'd never laid up anything, +but you're so sensitive, you wouldn't have liked my remarks and +questions before all the girls, I dare say."</p> + +<p>"And I dare say this sensitiveness has made me cowardly. I thought one +day last term when Kate Van der Berg was talking with Anna Fleming about +people who had risen in the world by their own ability, and yet didn't +like to refer to their early days of poverty and struggle, that I must +be a great coward, and I was very unhappy over it for a while; but I +know now that my cowardice isn't shame at all, but just that shrinking +from talking to those who couldn't fully understand what I was talking +of, and who would stare at me with wonder and curiosity <i>because</i> they +didn't understand. But now, now, I'm not going to shrink any longer, I'm +not going to have anybody ever think for a single moment that I'm +ashamed of that dear time when we lived in that tiny cottage at +Riverview, where I first began to learn to play on the little violin I +earned myself, and where my dear, dear father made the little model of +the engine that made his fortune."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you mean, then, that you are going to tell Kate now, right +away,—Kate and the other girls,—what you've told me?" asked Dorothea +eagerly, and with her usual blunt inquisitiveness.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't know that I shall rush 'right away' now, this minute, and +tell them; it isn't exactly a matter of such importance as that," +answered Hope, with a laugh that was half amused and half annoyed. "I +think I shall dress for dinner first, and I <i>may</i> sleep on it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, now you're snubbing my inquisitiveness, I know! But, Hope, see here +a minute. I—I want to say that I'm not going to talk to the girls about +you. Of course, you expected that I would—would go on over that +Brookside station squabble, and I might, if things hadn't turned out as +they have—if I—I didn't feel as I do—as if I knew you better now, and +knew how you felt about being made a show of."</p> + +<p>Hope winced a little at this presumption on Dorothea's part that there +was still a secret between them,—a secret dependent on Dorothea's own +good will,—and she made haste to say,—</p> + +<p>"It is very nice of you, I'm sure, Dorothea, to want to consult my +feelings, but it isn't necessary for you to think that you must keep +silent on my account."</p> + +<p>Dorothea looked a little disappointed, and Hope felt a twinge of +self-reproach as she glanced at her; but it was impossible for her to +accept the attitude of indebtedness that seemed about to be thrust upon +her. As she turned to leave the room, however, she said more warmly than +she had yet spoken,—</p> + +<p>"I think you have been very good-natured, Dorothea, to have taken +everything that I have said so nicely—and—and"—smiling a little—"you +are better-natured than I am, because you don't lay things up as I do."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't lay up grudges, but I can lay up a little gratitude, I +hope, and that helps me to be good-natured sometimes."</p> + +<p>As she said this, Dorothea showed all her milk-white teeth in a frank +laugh; and Hope, regarding her, thought to herself: "She <i>is</i> better +natured than I am about some things, and she <i>can</i> be generous."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + + +<p>"And she didn't make any objection to going with you?"</p> + +<p>"No, not the slightest. Indeed she seemed glad to go with us."</p> + +<p>Hope flushed a little, as she said this in answer to Kate's question +that night, as the two sat talking over the day and its exciting events. +The flush was the result of that pang of tender conscience that springs +up in revolt at even a momentary want of candor.</p> + +<p>"And Ray Armitage,—how did he take it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, quite easily!"</p> + +<p>"And you didn't have—either you or Mrs. Sibley—to argue with her; you +didn't have to tell her that the only thing to save her from the +consequences of her silliness was to go home in a proper way under +proper chaperonage?"</p> + +<p>"No, we didn't have to knock her down with that bludgeon," laughed Hope.</p> + +<p>"Well, I suppose she had begun to <i>think</i>! I'm glad she had so much +sense. Schuyler made all manner of fun of me after you and Mrs. Sibley +left. He said, in the first place, that he didn't believe you'd be in +time to see them before they entered the theatre, and if you did, you +wouldn't stop them."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Sibley was of the same opinion exactly."</p> + +<p>"How clever it was of her to do the next thing,—take you into the +theatre, and then manage the whole thing so perfectly!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, wasn't it clever, and so kind."</p> + +<p>"When you drove up did you see any of the teachers?"</p> + +<p>"We met Miss Stephens as we entered the hall."</p> + +<p>"You don't mean it? What did she say at seeing Dorothea with you?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Sibley came in with us for a moment, and Miss Stephens looked at +the three of us with some surprise, and then said,—</p> + +<p>"'I thought Dorothea was coming home long ago under the escort of Bessie +Armitage and her brother.'</p> + +<p>"At that, Mrs. Sibley answered at once, 'We met Dorothea, and took her +with <i>us</i>.'</p> + +<p>"Oh! and when Miss Stephens saw Mrs. Sibley and heard her say that, she +felt that everything was all right, I suppose. She ought to have been +sure of that before, and then you wouldn't have lost your afternoon's +skating, and had such a lot of bother."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, it's all turned out satisfactorily."</p> + +<p>Hope couldn't tell Kate <i>how</i> satisfactorily,—couldn't tell her that if +Miss Stephens <i>had</i> been sure that everything was right at an earlier +hour and Dorothea had thus been hindered from doing what she did, she +would also have missed that mortifying experience, that might do more to +shake her unlimited confidence in her own estimates and opinions than +anything else could possibly do.</p> + +<p>No, Hope couldn't tell Kate of this, for her lips were sealed. But if +she could not express herself freely in this direction, she could, and +she would, say something to show Dorothea as she had just seen her,—at +her best; and so she held forth, with what amplitude was possible within +the limit of her promise, on the girl's surprising gentleness and +reasonableness. Dorothea had really behaved exceedingly well, she told +Kate, and was not only appreciative of what had been done for her, but +of the good intention that prompted the doing. And here Hope could not +help repeating this characteristic speech of Dorothea's,—</p> + +<p>"I don't half believe, and I never have, that such dreadful consequences +would come of going against Miss Marr's rules; but <i>you</i> do, I see, and +so it was awfully kind of you to take all this trouble to pull me out of +the danger you thought I was in."</p> + +<p>"She said that? Well, I must say, she's got more sense and feeling than +I gave her credit for; and to think of her flying at <i>me</i> as she did. +<i>My</i> intentions were as good as yours."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you gave her advice, and she hates advice. What seemed to +impress her was our—Mrs. Sibley and my—taking the trouble to leave the +Park, and actually going in to the matinée and waiting to do her the +service we did."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope her gratitude and appreciation will last long enough to +keep her out of any more silly scrapes for a while."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe she will want to get into any more such scrapes. I—I +think she feels sort of ashamed of what she has done. And, Kate, +couldn't we—wouldn't it be a good plan if we tried to help her to keep +out of such things?"</p> + +<p>"Help her—how?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I—I feel as if I may have been too hard on her. I have cherished +my feeling of dislike constantly, and have done her an injury all +round—with you, and the other girls by the way I have held off from +her. She feels that the girls don't like her, and thinks that <i>you</i> were +the first to dislike her, and that it was you who had influenced me. I +told her what a mistake that was,—that it was <i>I</i> who had influenced +you—by my manner at the start; and then, then I recalled myself to her +mind. I told her what she had forgotten,—that I was the little girl she +had met five years ago,—the little girl she had had a quarrel with at +the Brookside station, and that I had always remembered what she had +said to me there,—always remembered and resented it, and that it was +that that had affected my manner towards her, had made me stiff and +offish to her."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hope, do, do tell me about that time! I've never liked before to +urge you to tell me the whole story, but I wish now that you <i>would</i> +tell me."</p> + +<p>There was a moment of hesitation,—just a moment; then with a little +rising of color, a little tremulousness of voice, Hope said,—</p> + +<p>"Kate, do you remember that piece of music that I brought back from +Boston,—that 'Idyl of the Spring' that Mr. Kolb had composed for me to +play at our coming May festival?"</p> + +<p>"That piece dedicated to you, and so oddly named 'Mayflowers: Ten Cents +a Bunch'?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and do you remember, when you asked me how he came to give it such +an odd title, that I told you he had known a little girl once that he +was very fond of, who had sold mayflowers at ten cents a bunch?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Well, <i>I</i> was that little girl."</p> + +<p>"You! you! When—where—how did you come to sell them?"</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you;" and then, for the second time that night, Hope told her +story of that 'poor time,' as Dorothea had blunderingly called it,—that +dear time, as she herself rightly and happily called it,—when she lived +with her father and mother in the little cottage at Riverview, and +carried out her joyous plan of earning that wonderful twenty-five +dollars to buy the good little fiddle. As she told the story now, as she +went back to the details of her plan, with Kate for audience, and +described the little fiddle in the shop-window as she had first seen it, +and the sinking of her heart as she was told the price, and then the +happy relief of her inspiration when she heard the boy on the street +call out "Ten cents a bunch," she began to lose her shyness in the +warmth of her recollection,—to lose her shyness and to forget her +shrinking from a possible auditor who <i>wouldn't understand</i>. Wouldn't +understand! As she neared the end, as she came to her meeting with +Dorothea in the Brookside station, and said, "It was there that I first +met Dorothea," Kate burst in,—</p> + +<p>"And she insulted you, she insulted you in her ignorance and stupidity! +I can see it all,—all. She couldn't comprehend such a dear darling +brave little thing as you. She took you for an ordinary little street +huckster,—the horrid thick-headed, thick-skinned creature,—and sneered +and jeered at you, and very likely called you names, or did other +dreadful things."</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, Kate! she wasn't malicious. She didn't <i>mean</i> to hurt me; +but she was ignorant of any way of living but her own way, and she +thought that anybody who sold things on the street must be one of those +very poor people who lived anyhow, like the people at the North End, and +so she asked me questions,—questions that hurt me, because they showed +that she thought I was so different from herself. No, it wasn't malice +that made her ask these questions, it was simply ignorance; and I—I +told her so at last."</p> + +<p>"You did? Hurrah! Tell me—tell me exactly what you said," cried Kate, +laughing delightedly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I said exactly that,—that she must be very ignorant or she would +know more about the difference in people, that she would <i>see</i> the +difference; and then I told her that my father was an engineer on the +road, and that we had a nice home and plenty to eat and to drink and to +wear, and books and magazines and papers, and then she asked me what I +sold flowers on the street for, if we were as nice as that, and I told +her that I wanted to buy something for myself that my father couldn't +afford to buy for me; and then I remember"—and a little dimpling smile +came over Hope's face here—"I asked her, 'Don't you ever want anything +that your father doesn't feel as if he could buy for you just when you +want him to?' and she was so irritated at my accusing her of being +ignorant that she answered, 'Well, if I did, I shouldn't be let to go +out on the street and peddle flowers to earn the money.'"</p> + +<p>"The hateful, impudent—"</p> + +<p>"But wait, wait! I was as bad as she was here, because I answered back, +'And <i>I</i> shouldn't be <i>allowed</i> to say "let to go," like ignorant North +Enders.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hope, Hope, this is beautiful, beautiful!" and Kate began to dance +wildly around the room, thrumming an imaginary pair of castanets as she +danced.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it was very beautiful," protested Hope; "but you can see +by this speech that I was as bad as she after I got my temper up."</p> + +<p>"Bad! it was beautiful, beautiful,—just the best thing I ever heard. +Bad! well, I should say not."</p> + +<p>"But <i>she</i> didn't <i>mean</i> to hurt me, to begin with, and I—I <i>meant</i> to +hurt her in everything I said. Remember that."</p> + +<p>"You meant to enlighten her, and I fancy you did, and you certainly got +the better of her."</p> + +<p>"Yes, and her father told her so, she said, when I recalled the +'scrimmage,' as she termed it, to her mind; and yet in spite of that she +didn't lay up anything against me. She had forgotten my face, and was +fast forgetting the whole affair when I brought things back to her. She +had never had a bit of grudge against me, and she only laughed when she +recalled some of the things I had said. I'm glad now to tell you the +whole story, for you must see by what I have told you, that she isn't in +the least malicious, and you must see, too, that she is really much +better natured than we have thought her, not to have laid up anything; +yes, much better natured than I am."</p> + +<p>"Well, she was the attacking party. You were only on the defensive, and +you knocked her down with the truth. Of course you would remember the +kind of things she said to you more than she would remember your +replies; and then you are much finer and more sensitive than she, +anyway. But I will allow that she has turned out better in the end than +I would have expected. That telling you what her father said wasn't bad. +But, Hope dear, sensitive as you are, how could you recall yourself and +that old time to her?"</p> + +<p>"I told you how I came to do it; it was because she had got it into her +head that it was you who had made me stiff and offish, and I had to tell +her then just how it was."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes; and you sacrificed yourself in that way for me. You hated to +tell her, Hope, I know you did,—you are such a sensitive, shrinking +creature."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is just my fault,—a cowardly shrinking, that makes me keep +silent sometimes when I ought to speak. Oh, Kate, Kate, I dare say now, +this minute, you are thinking how strange it is,—my not having spoken +to you before, of all this old life of mine, when I lived so differently +from the way I live now. I dare say you think I—I was ashamed to talk +about it, because my father was a working-man, a poor locomotive +engineer. Oh, I shall never forget how I felt that day last term when +you talked about the people who kept still and never spoke of their +humble beginnings; and when you brought up the Stephensons and said, 'Do +you think <i>they'd</i> keep still, because they were ashamed of their humble +beginnings, after they had worked out of them and become prosperous?' +and then when you went on and declared how you hated the cowardice of +those people who didn't dare to speak of these things, and what <i>you</i> +would do under such circumstances, I felt that <i>I</i> was the most +miserable coward, and that you would despise me forever if you knew what +I was keeping to myself. But I knew—I knew all the time, that I wasn't +ashamed of <i>anything</i>,—of the little home without a servant or of the +engine-cab and my dear, dear father. I knew I was proud of him and what +he had done, and yet I knew that I couldn't bear to think of telling all +these things to girls who had never known what it was to live as we had. +I felt that you wouldn't, that you couldn't understand; that you would +take it all something as Dorothea had, years ago, though you wouldn't +<i>say</i> a word of how you felt, but you would look it. You would stare at +me with wonder and curiosity,—that you—you—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hope, Hope, my dear, I do understand it all—all—everything. I +<i>know</i> that you couldn't be ashamed of that old time, and I understand +just how you felt about us, how and why you shrank from telling us. One +such experience as that with Dorothea was enough to make you shrink from +all girls like us. You were a dear delicate little child, and you had +never known that there was such ignorance as Dorothea's, and that you +<i>could</i> be so misunderstood, and it has made a great bruise on you that +you have never got over. Oh, Hope, this is all Dorothea's doing. She +<i>meant</i> no harm, but she has done the harm nevertheless, for she has +taken away your belief and trust and confidence. To think that you +couldn't trust <i>me</i>, after all you've known of me, to understand just a +difference in the way of living! Why, the life you've just told me +of—that little home where you were so close to each other, where you +lived so near to all your father's hopes and plans—seems to me +beautiful, something to be envied. And to think <i>you</i> should think I +shouldn't understand, shouldn't appreciate it—should look at it +with—with such eyes as—as Dorothea's! Oh, Hope! Hope! doesn't this +prove what harm Dorothea has done you?"</p> + +<p>"And if it does, Kate, and I don't deny that it does, I say again that +she didn't <i>mean</i> to do any harm,—I see that now as clear as can +be,—and that ought to make all the difference; and then when I think +what <i>I</i> have done—"</p> + +<p>"You! what have you done but to forgive her ninety-and-nine times?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, Kate, I've—I've dis—no, I've <i>hated</i> her all these years, +and this hate has affected my manner towards her so much that it +influenced you and all the other girls against her; and as she has been +harmed through that, I don't see but that I ought to cry quits."</p> + +<p>"Yes, five months against five years. Do you call that quits?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and maybe more than quits, because I've made enemies for her, or +at least influenced people against her, while she had no feeling to +prejudice people against me. She has liked me all this time that we've +been here at school together, spite of my being so stiff; and when she +came to find out who I was,—the little girl who got the best of her in +that childish quarrel, she hadn't the least ill will towards me. Quits? +Yes, I say it's more than quits for me. Oh, Kate, I can't tell you +everything she said to me just now, but she did show herself generous +and grateful; and even when I confessed that it was I who had prejudiced +you, even then she had no ill will. Yes, yes, I agree that I was harmed +and hurt by what happened five years ago; but, Kate, I've been thinking +very fast and very hard for the last hour or two, and I've come to +believe that if I had known nothing of Dorothea before she came here—if +I and you had started without any prejudice, things might have been +different, we might have been easier and pleasanter with her, and that +might have brought her out in pleasanter ways. But instead of that, we +picked up every little thing, and, well, she <i>was</i> cold-shouldered +awfully by all of us at times; and we can't tell—we don't know what we +might have done, if we had tried to make her <i>one of us</i> more. We might +have kept her from doing such foolish reckless things as she has; and +so, as I think that I am to blame for the beginning of this prejudice +that has hurt her, I think that I may have been the means of doing her +greater harm than she has ever done me; for think, <i>think</i>, Kate, <i>what</i> +harm it must be to a girl to have Raymond Armitage able to boast about +her accepting his attentions, and for your brother and Peter Van Loon, +and nobody knows who else, getting such a cheap opinion of her through +these things."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see. But what do you propose to do about it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I think—I ought to do or try to do what I can now, to help her +<i>not</i> to hurt herself any more by these pranks."</p> + +<p>"How are you going to work to make her over like this?"</p> + +<p>"I—I don't expect to make her over, Kate, but I think she may get a +different idea of having a good time if we are very friendly to her, and +bring her into <i>our</i> good times, and she sees that the girls, and the +boys too, that she really wants to associate with, really and truly look +down on these pranks that she has thought were only 'good fun,'—look +down upon them and think them vulgar."</p> + +<p>"And you want me to help in this missionary work?" asked Kate, half +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I—I want you to be nice to her, Kate. When you meet her to-morrow +morning, now, I want you to give her something more than a stiff nod; I +want you to smile a little,—not too much, or she'll think I've been +talking to you about her."</p> + +<p>"A little, but not too much," laughed Kate, "Oh, Hope, Hope, you dear +delightful darling you, this is too funny, too funny!"</p> + +<p>"But won't you try—won't you try, Kate, to—"</p> + +<p>"To smile upon her a little but not too much? Yes, yes, I'll try, I'll +try," still laughing.</p> + +<p>"And, Kate dear," suddenly enfolding the laughing girl in a close +embrace, "will you try to do something else for me,—will you try to +forgive me for—for being so stupid as not to trust you to—to +understand? Will you try to forgive me, and to—to love me as well—as +you did before?"</p> + +<p>"Try to forgive you—to love you as well as I did before," cried Kate, +pressing Hope's cheek against her own. "I've nothing to forgive; and as +for loving you as well as I did before, I love you better, if that were +possible, for before, though I thought I knew you pretty well, I didn't +know how more than generous you could be. Love you? I love and admire +you beyond anybody; I—"</p> + +<p>"Girls, girls, it's after talking hours," whispered Anna Fleming, as she +pushed open the door. "I've just come from your room, Hope, where I've +been with Myra, and the lights are all being turned down in the halls, +and so we <i>must</i> say good-night and scatter to bed."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I ought not to have stayed so long," whispered back Hope, +apologetically. "Good-night!" and "Good-night!" "Good-night" responded +Anna and Kate in chorus; but Kate managed to add slyly in a lower +whisper to Hope,—</p> + +<p>"I'll smile upon her a little, but not too much, Hope dear."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + + +<p>The next morning was rather dreaded by Dorothea. She had really suffered +from a headache the night before, and with that excuse had been allowed +to keep her room, and have a light supper sent up to her.</p> + +<p>"But I wish I hadn't—I wish to goodness I'd gone down last night!" she +said petulantly to herself, as she faced the morning's sunshine. She had +full faith in Hope and her promise, and was therefore quite secure that +not one of the girls would know of that mortifying little episode at the +end of yesterday's escapade; and this was the most that she cared for. +But yet, in spite of this, she had a certain very uncomfortable feeling +about meeting Kate Van der Berg and "that set," as she called the little +group of girls of which Kate seemed the natural head and leader. A very +uncomfortable feeling; for though that mortifying episode was a safe +secret, the rest of the escapade was the common property of Kate and +Hope; "and of course," argued Dorothea, "Kate Van der Berg has told all +<i>she</i> knows to the others, and they'll just take her little pattern of +things, and set up and look at me, and think how the naughty girl was +taken care of by Mrs. Sibley and Hope. Oh, oh, if it hadn't been for +that horrid Raymond Armitage's being so mean and selfish at the +end,—well, I've found <i>him</i> out!—I shouldn't have <i>had</i> to accept +Hope's offer,—though it was awfully good of her, and I was awfully glad +to accept, as things turned out. But if things <i>hadn't</i> turned out as +they did,—if Ray Armitage had behaved himself, I <i>needn't</i> have +accepted, and then if I had come back in the cars, as I went, I should +have taken the risks and they'd have known that I was independent. But +now, though thank Heaven they won't know <i>why</i> I accepted Hope's offer, +they'll know that I <i>did</i> accept it, and so they'll stare at me as the +naughty little girl who <i>had to</i> give in!"</p> + +<p>It will be seen by this argument that Dorothea's state of mind was not +yet what it should be. It will also be seen that, harboring such a state +of mind, it was quite natural that she should find herself decidedly +uncomfortable at the prospect of facing "that set." But it had to be +done, however. There was no use in putting it off; and with a final +glance at the mirror, a final pat to her smooth shining hair, Dorothea +started off toward the dining-room. As she gained the lower hall, she +heard a mingled sound of various voices issuing from the room, and +ruefully thought: "Late as it is, they're all there! <i>Why</i> didn't I get +up earlier? I might have known they'd be late Sunday morning. Now all +eyes will be glaring at me when I open the door!"</p> + +<p>But as she opened the door, beyond one or two of the girls looking up +with a preoccupied air and a hasty good-morning, no notice was taken of +her. "That set" and indeed the whole assembled company were in the very +thick of an animated talk concerning the origin and observance of Saint +Valentine's Day.</p> + +<p>"Of course we have kept up the Valentine fun year after year, because +there's such a lot of children in our family. I don't suppose that grown +up people nowadays would make anything of it, if it wasn't for +children,—except maybe vulgar people who use those horrid comic +valentines to play a vulgar joke on some one," Kate Van der Berg was +saying just as Dorothea stepped over the threshold. A little nod and +smile was given to Dorothea the next moment,—a little easy nod and that +happy half-smile that was "not too much," recommended by Hope.</p> + +<p>"It says in Chambers' Book of Days," here spoke up Anna Fleming, +"that Valentine's Day is now almost everywhere a much degenerated +festival, but that it was once a very general custom with +everybody—grown-up-people as well as children—to send valentines to +each other; and it says, too, that the origin of this custom is a +subject of some obscurity. Those are the very words; I read them last +night to Myra, didn't I, Myra?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; and you read too that the Saint Valentine who was a priest of Rome +and martyred in the third century seems to have nothing to do with the +matter beyond the accident of his day being used for the festival +purpose."</p> + +<p>"Then, if that is true, the whole thing is a sentimental muddle of +nonsense, starting off with the mating of birds for origin, as some of +the old writers seem to believe," cried Kate, in a disgusted tone. "But +<i>I'm</i> not going to believe any such thing. I'm going to believe what +Bishop Wheatley says about it. He says that Saint Valentine was a man so +famous for his love and charity that the custom of choosing valentines +upon his festival took its rise from a desire to commemorate that very +love and charity by choosing a special friend on his day,—I suppose his +birthday,—which was, as nearly as can be reckoned, the fourteenth of +February. Now, I shall stick to this explanation of the day. Bishop +Wheatley's authority is good enough for me, and I shall choose <i>my</i> +valentine on his lines this year as I did last."</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>who</i> was your Valentine last year?" cried little Lily Chester, +with eager curiosity.</p> + +<p>"My aunt Katrine,—a great-aunt whom I had never seen until last year, +when she came over from Germany to visit us."</p> + +<p>"An old aunt,—how funny!" exclaimed Lily.</p> + +<p>"Why funny?"</p> + +<p>"Why? Because—because whoever heard of anybody choosing an old aunt for +a valentine?"</p> + +<p>"Whom do <i>you</i> choose, Lily?"</p> + +<p>"I? Oh, <i>I</i> choose children I know,—boys, always."</p> + +<p>An outburst of laughter greeted this declaration; and in the midst of it +Kate said gayly, with a little confidential nod to Dorothea, "It's +currants and raisins again, Dorothea."</p> + +<p>The gay tone of good-fellowship, the confidential nod and smile took +Dorothea so by surprise that for the moment her ready speech failed her. +What she had <i>thought</i>, what she might have <i>said</i> if she had not thus +been surprised into silence, was something in her usual truculent vein, +with a very decided declaration of sympathy with Lily's choice. But +surprised and silent for the moment, she was all ready to agree with +Myra Donaldson, who followed Kate's remark with a laughing confession +that she too had chosen "boys always,"—that she thought that was the +customary, the proper valentine way. And agreeing with Myra in an +emphatic "It <i>is</i>—it always <i>has</i> been the proper valentine way," +Dorothea was again surprised at the gentleness of Kate's tone as she +disagreed,—as she said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no, Dorothea; the good old Bishop Wheatley didn't mean that it +was <i>nothing</i> but a sweethearting custom, for there is another record +that says distinctly that the early Church looked upon that custom as +one of the pagan practices, and observed the day as a real Saint's Day, +when one chose a particular patron saint for the year and called him, or +her, my 'valentine.' And it was in that way that I chose dear old Aunt +Katrine for <i>my</i> valentine last year."</p> + +<p>"And <i>I</i> chose my dear Mr. Kolb, my first music-teacher," said Hope, +looking up brightly. "He taught me to play on that little violin I was +telling you about," glancing at Kate with a significant smile. Dorothea +saw the smile, and instantly said to herself: "She's told her,—she's +told her all that Mayflower and fiddle story, every word of it, I can +see by their looks. I wonder if she's told the other girls?"</p> + +<p>But what was that that Myra Donaldson was referring to?—something that +had evidently brought up all this talk. Dorothea had lost a sentence or +two in her momentary preoccupation over Hope and Kate; but now catching +the words "It's to be a valentine party as usual," she asked eagerly,—</p> + +<p>"Whose party is it,—who gives it?"</p> + +<p>"Bessie Armitage. The fourteenth of February is her birthday, and she +always has a party on that day, or on the evening of the day. She hasn't +sent her invitations out yet, but she will next week. I went to her last +year's party, and it was such a pretty party, wasn't it?" looking at +Kate and Hope, who at once gave cordial agreement that it was a <i>very</i> +pretty party. "But you'll see for yourself this year, Dorothea," Myra +went on, "for I suppose Miss Marr will let us go, as she did last +winter, though it <i>is</i> stretching a point to go to any party outside; +but Bessie has been here so long—she was only ten when she first came +to Miss Marr's—that she has exceptions made in her favor; and then +these birthday-parties of hers are always early parties, and that makes +a great difference."</p> + +<p>A party,—a Valentine party at Bessie Armitage's! Dorothea couldn't, for +the life of her, keep the hot angry color from rushing to her face as +she heard the name of Armitage; and her first thought was: "Catch me +going to a party at <i>his</i> home, where I've got to be polite to <i>him</i>!" +At the next thought,—the thought that her refusal to go would be +thoroughly understood by Raymond himself, would be taken by him as a +direct cut and snub, her spirits rose, and a little triumphant smile +began to curl her lips.</p> + +<p>"Look at Dorothea! She's planning <i>some</i> mischief," laughed Myra, who +had noted the sudden change in her opposite neighbor's face. All eyes +were now indeed turned upon Dorothea.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you look like yourself again," spoke up Anna Fleming, "you were +quite pale when you first came in. Has your headache all gone?"</p> + +<p>"My headache?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; they said you didn't come down to dinner last night on account of +a headache."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I forgot to ask you how you were, we were so full of Bessie's +Valentine party when you came in," said Myra, apologetically. Then, +politely: "You had to leave the Park yesterday almost directly after you +arrived there, some one said. 'Twas too bad. I didn't see you at all +after we entered, for I went at once over on the other side of the pond +with Anna and some of her friends. What a scattered party we were,—Anna +and I on one side and Kate and Hope on the other, and the rest I don't +know where: and how we straggled home,—Anna's friends in charge of us, +while Miss Thompson had another party and Miss Stephens still another."</p> + +<p>Dorothea forgot her embarrassment, forgot everything, as she listened to +these words, but the amazing fact that Kate had told neither Anna nor +Myra the story of yesterday's escapade,—and Anna was Kate's room-mate! +Could it be that Kate Van der Berg,—who had always been so ready to +find fault, to say disagreeable things, to put her—Dorothea—in the +wrong,—could it be possible that of her own will, her own thought, she +had refrained from repeating what she knew? And if she had, what was her +motive? Dorothea asked herself suspiciously, for she could not +understand how one so outspoken and lavish in her fault-finding could +suddenly put such restraint upon her tongue; for she could not +comprehend, this quick-tempered yet obtuse Dorothea, that a nature which +might be lavish of fault-finding and criticism upon certain occasions, +upon certain other occasions, from a nice sense of honor and generosity, +might also be able to keep a golden silence. Yet this was just what Kate +Van der Berg had done. She had had the impulse at the first to rush at +once to Myra, to whom she had already told so much, with this amazing +story of Dorothea's latest exploit. But a second impulse came to her,—a +kindly impulse of restraint, wherein she said to herself: "No, I won't +prejudice Myra any further, perhaps I've prejudiced her too much already +by what I've told her; at any rate, I'll keep silent about this affair." +How more than glad she was that she had thus kept silent when Myra's +innocently betrayed ignorance brought that look of surprise and relief +into Dorothea's face. And Dorothea, presently turning her gaze from Myra +to Kate herself, caught on the latter's face something of the expression +of this gladness, and experienced a fresh surprise thereat; but in this +surprise was mixed a little feeling of self-gratulation that matters +were turning out so easily and happily; and then her volatile spirits +began to rebound again, and her thoughts to run in this way,—</p> + +<p>"How silly I've been to get so nervous and fidgety; but it's all owing +to Ray Armitage's behavior. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of +anyhow, and I dare say in her secret heart Kate Van der Berg <i>thinks</i> I +haven't. Any way everything is blowing over beautifully now, and I'm not +going to bother about things another bit, not even about that horrid Ray +Armitage,—though I'll manage to get even with him yet!" And so solacing +herself, in this fashion, Dorothea's spirits continued to rise higher +and higher, and by Monday she was in her usual mental as well as bodily +condition, her headache and her heartache—if the latter term could be +employed to describe her pangs of sore mortification—no longer +conquering her. Indeed, so jubilant was the reactionary state of mind +following upon her depression, that she at once set about readjusting +various little plans to suit her present mood. One of these plans was +the determination she had made to refuse Bessie Armitage's invitation to +the birthday valentine party. It would only make the girls talk for her +to stay away, she concluded. It would be a great deal better plan to go +to the party, and show Ray Armitage that he wasn't of enough consequence +to keep her away. And when there she could manage to snub him +beautifully in a dozen different ways, though it <i>was</i> in his own +house,—oh yes, in a dozen different ways, and be outwardly very polite +too; yes, indeed, <i>she</i> knew how to do it!</p> + +<p>In thoughts and plans like these, the days flew swiftly by. "Next week," +Myra had informed them, the invitations were to be sent out, and she had +had <i>her</i> information from Bessie herself, who was at that time confined +at home with a severe cold. Next week, and then another week would bring +the anticipated fourteenth.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + + +<p>"But there must be some mistake, some accident, that has delayed yours, +for all the other girls received theirs yesterday," exclaimed Myra +Donaldson in surprise, when Dorothea mentioned the fact to her on +Tuesday of that following week, that she had not received her +invitation. "Yes, there must be some accident," reiterated Myra; "it no +doubt slipped out in some way, and you'll get it to-morrow." But +"to-morrow" came and went and Dorothea failed to receive the invitation.</p> + +<p>"Of course there must be some mistake," Anna Fleming also declared, when +<i>she</i> was told of the fact; and then one and another echoed the same +declaration as they heard of the circumstance. Of course there was some +mistake! By Thursday, certainly, everybody thought the "mistake" would +be discovered and rectified; but Thursday too came and went, and Friday +passed by without the desired result. On Saturday morning Dorothea said +to Hope,—</p> + +<p>"I—I wish you would do something for me, Hope."</p> + +<p>"Yes, certainly I will if I can," returned Hope.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's just this: I heard that you were going out to drive with +Kate Van der Berg this afternoon, and I wondered if you could—if you +<i>would</i> call and see Bessie Armitage,—see how she is, you know—and +then—and then you might ask her—you might tell her about the +invitation,—that I hadn't received it. Of course <i>I</i> don't want to +speak to her about it, but somebody else might, and she would want to be +told—she'd feel horribly—<i>I</i> should, I'm sure, in her place if I +<i>wasn't</i> told—if the mistake <i>wasn't</i> rectified; and so I thought if +<i>you</i> would just speak of it—"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed I will. I'm glad you asked me. I wonder I hadn't thought of +it myself, but I'll go round directly the first thing this afternoon," +responded Hope, cordially.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Some mistake?" repeated Bessie Armitage, in a queer, hesitating, +questioning way, as Hope sat before her, waiting for the explanation +that she had expected would at once make everything right for Dorothea.</p> + +<p>"Yes, for she hasn't received her invitation at all, you understand," +answered Hope, thinking that Bessie had <i>not</i> understood.</p> + +<p>"Yes?" began Bessie, and then stopped, her eyes cast down and the color +coming into her cheeks, while Hope and Kate glanced at each other in +embarrassed silence. What <i>did</i> it mean? What <i>could</i> be the matter? +They were wildly conjecturing all sorts of strange impossible things, +and Hope was just determining to break the dreadful silence with these +very questions, when Bessie looked up and said:</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you—I <i>must</i> tell you; there wasn't any mistake—I knew that +Dorothea had no invitation."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" breathed Hope, faintly; and "Oh!" echoed Kate, in the same tone.</p> + +<p>"No, it was meant that she shouldn't have one; but I had written one, +and I was going to send it if—if my mother hadn't stopped it."</p> + +<p>"Your mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, my mother. I had already sent out quite a number of invitations, +and had just got another lot ready, when my mother came in and saw +Dorothea's name on one of the notes. The moment she saw it, she forbade +me to send it. Mother was at the New Year's party,—perhaps you +remember,—just at the last of it, when Dorothea was going on so, and +she took a great dislike to Dorothea then. Dorothea <i>was</i> noisy, you +know. Mother thought she was very loud and underbred. But that—that +wasn't all. A little while ago some acquaintances of ours from +Philadelphia—the Cargills—were staying at the Waldorf. The next day +after they arrived, they went to a matinée at the Madison Square +Theatre, and saw there my brother Raymond, and with him a young girl. Of +course they thought the girl was some member of our family; and when he +went to speak to them, they asked him if that was another sister he had +with him, and he told them no; that it was only an acquaintance,—a girl +who was in a boarding-school in the city. Mrs. Cargill thought this was +very odd; and as Raymond was so young, she spoke about it to mamma. +Mamma was astonished, and she went straight to Raymond and asked him +what it all meant, and who the girl was; and Raymond had to tell the +whole story then,—that it was Dorothea Dering, from Miss Marr's school; +that he had invited her to go to the matinée with him, and that she had +accepted the invitation; and then that he had met her at the +skating-pond in Central Park, and had gone from there with her to the +theatre, unsuspected by any of the teachers. The minute mamma heard the +name, 'Dorothea Dering,' she recalled the New Year's party and +Dorothea's behavior there; and so, and so, don't you see, when she saw +Dorothea's name on the envelope, the other day, she thought of all these +things, and—and forbade my sending the note. I tried my best to get her +to let me send it; I told her what Anna Fleming had said to me,—that +Dorothea came from one of the first families of Massachusetts; that her +father was the Hon. James Dering, and all her people were in the very +best society. But the more I tried to talk Dorothea up in this way, the +more decided mamma grew; until, at last, she said that there had been +too much of this falling back upon one's family nowadays; that bad, loud +manners and rude behavior were not to be overlooked and excused on that +account, and that she didn't propose to overlook Dorothea's by having +her invited to her house. And when I said I thought that Raymond was as +much to blame, in <i>asking</i> her to go to the matinée, as Dorothea was in +going, mamma said that that didn't help her case at all; that Raymond's +invitation was only the result of her own loud, free ways; that he would +never have thought of inviting her like that, if she had been a +different kind of girl. Oh,"—with a quick look at Hope and +Kate,—"mamma didn't altogether exonerate Raymond; she didn't think he +was altogether right, by any means; but then she does think—and so do +I, girls—that boys and young men are apt to treat a girl a good deal as +the girl treats them; and—and—Dorothea <i>was</i> too forward with Raymond. +I saw it myself from the first; and she led him on,—she encouraged him +to treat her as he wouldn't have treated either of you two. She thought +he admired just those free, foolish ways of hers; but he didn't,—he was +only amused by them. Oh, I know Raymond; and I know if he had seen <i>me</i> +going on with any one as Dorothea did, he would have scolded me well. It +wouldn't have amused him to have seen his sister going on so, to have +seen <i>me</i> amusing any one like that. But, Hope, Kate, all the same, I +felt dreadfully at leaving Dorothea out,—dreadfully, for there I'd sent +off almost all the school invitations; there was no getting them back. +If I could have got them back, I would; and—yes, truly, I wouldn't have +sent any invitations to any one at Miss Marr's, if I had known I had got +to cut Dorothea. No; I wouldn't have sent one, and then I could have +explained it to the rest of you privately, or I could have said I +couldn't make so large a party this year. Yes, I would certainly have +done this if it hadn't been too late,—if mamma had only seen and +stopped Dorothea's invitation before the other school notes had been +sent. Yes, I would have done just that; and not because I'm at all fond +of Dorothea, but because I hate to hurt anybody's feelings, and to—to +make such a time. I should have gone back to school this week if it +hadn't been for this happening; but I'm not going now until after the +party, and I may not go until next term if my father will take me away +with him to Florida, where he is going next month; and I hope, oh, I +hope he will!" And here suddenly, to Hope and Kate's astonishment, this +quiet, self-contained Bessie Armitage covered her face with her hands +and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Bessie! Bessie!" broke forth Hope and Kate, with a warm outrushing +of sympathy, and a desire to say something comforting,—"oh, Bessie, +Bessie!" and then suddenly they both stopped, for what could they say +further without saying something that would seem like a protest against +Mrs. Armitage's decision,—that, in fact, <i>would</i> be a protest, for both +girls were protesting in their hearts at that moment, were saying +something like this to themselves,—</p> + +<p>"What harm could it have done to let <i>this</i> invitation go,—just this +one? They needn't ever have invited her again." And at that very moment, +as they were thus thinking, they heard the rings of a portière slip +aside, and there was Mrs. Armitage herself, entering from the next room +with a kind look of concern on her face, and in another moment, after +her friendly greeting, she was saying,—</p> + +<p>"Bessie has told you my decision about the invitation to Miss Dering, +and I dare say you think I am very stiff and hard, not to let the +invitation go,—that it can't make much difference for this once; but, +my dears, it is <i>this once</i>, this one party, where my little +ten-year-old Amy and her little cousins will be in amongst the older +ones, that <i>will</i> make all the difference, for I don't want these little +girls to see such an exhibition of loud manners, and those—I hate to +say it—vulgar <i>flirting</i> ways such as I saw New Year's evening. If it +were any other party, a party where there were older girls only, I might +have let the invitation go; but I have seen the ill effects of very +young girls like my Amy and her cousins being brought into contact even +for a short time with a handsome showy girl who does and says the kind +of things that Miss Dering does, especially when that girl is accepted +as a guest by their own friends; and so, if only for this one reason +apart from any other, don't you see, my dears, that I <i>couldn't</i> let +this invitation go?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do see, I do see!" cried Kate, impulsively; "but—Mrs. Armitage, +do you think she—Dorothea will understand—will know that it is her own +fault?"</p> + +<p>"I—I think she will, I think she must," answered Mrs. Armitage. There +were tears in her eyes as she said this; and as she bent down and kissed +them good-by, both Hope and Kate felt the depth and sincerity of her +purpose, and respected her for it.</p> + +<p>"She's right, she's right of course!" burst forth Kate, as the two girls +were driving away together; "but, oh, I do wish she hadn't been quite so +right, quite so high-minded just now; for <i>what</i> an uncomfortable time +is ahead of us! Oh, Hope, I pity you; what shall you—what <i>can</i> you +tell Dorothea?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see that I can tell her anything but the truth."</p> + +<p>"Not the whole truth?"</p> + +<p>"What else could I tell her?"</p> + +<p>"My! I wouldn't be in your shoes for something! She'll be so furious, +she'll fall upon you,—you or anybody who is nearest,—and chew you into +mince-meat! Oh, Hope, don't tell her! Tell her—tell her—oh, I have +it—tell her that you spoke to Bessie about the invitation, and that +there was none sent because Bessie is offended with her for some +reason,—that you can't tell her what it is, but that she must go to +Bessie herself for the reason. There! there you are all fixed up, and +with the great high-minded muss shoved off on to the Armitage shoulders, +where it ought to be. Houp la! I'd dance a jig if I were out of the +carriage!"</p> + +<p>"But I—I sha'n't shove it off like that, Katy dear. I shall tell +Dorothea everything,—it is the only way. I shall tell her as gently as +I can, but I shall tell her. If I turn it off in the way you suggest, it +will make more trouble. She'll go to Bessie the minute she gets back and +say something disagreeable to her, or she'll treat her in an angry +disagreeable manner, and just as like as not say something,—something +purposely impertinent to irritate Bessie,—for she won't stop at +anything then."</p> + +<p>"But do you think it will be any better—do you think she'll be any less +angry if you tell her that it is Mrs. Armitage who is at the bottom of +the business?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do; I think it will be a great deal better. She'll be +angry,—she may be furious, as you say; but I shall tell her just how +Bessie felt about <i>not</i> sending the note,—how she cried over it, and +how Mrs. Armitage felt; and Dorothea has too much sense not to see +herself, after the first burst of temper, that the whole thing has been +made too serious a matter for her to quarrel about it in a little petty +way. And then—then I think, after she gets over the anger, that she is +going to be helped by the whole experience, going to see what she has +never seen before,—that she is all in the wrong in her way of doing and +saying the things that she does, and that she will be left out of +everything if she doesn't do differently; and nothing—no, nothing but +something like this—would ever show her how she has been hurting +herself."</p> + +<p>"Well, you <i>may</i> be right, Hope; but <i>I</i> believe this spoilt baby will +scream and kick and bang her head in some sort of tantrum way, and then +she'll pack up her clothes and rush off to Boston, shaking the wicked +dirty dust of New York from her feet, and calling us all a lot of primmy +old maids, or something worse."</p> + +<p>Hope laughed a little, but she was more than a little anxious and +troubled; for, spite of her brave stand, she did have a very decided +dread of applying that heroic treatment of the whole truth to Dorothea; +and her dread by no means diminished as she went down the long corridor +and saw at the end of it Dorothea's room-door standing open, and within +the room Dorothea herself, humming a gay waltz as she shook out the +folds of the yellow gown; and "Oh," groaned Hope, "she's getting it +ready for the party; she thinks everything is all right, and she's so +sure she's going. Oh, dear!"</p> + +<p>And then it was, when Hope's heart was quaking with fear and pity, that +Dorothea glanced up from the yellow gown and cried out joyfully,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, there you are! Come in, come in, and tell me all about it,—how the +mistake was made; and where is it,—the invitation?—you brought it with +you, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"No—I—she—"</p> + +<p>"Thought it wasn't necessary,—that you could tell me? Was the note +lost?" went on Dorothea, in her headlong way of anticipating everything +as usual, and only brought up at last by Hope's faint, distressed cry +of—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dorothea, there wasn't any invitation!"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't any? What—what do you mean?" exclaimed Dorothea, dropping her +yellow gown to the floor, and staring with great dilating eyes at Hope.</p> + +<p>"I mean that Bessie—that Bessie didn't—that—that it was stopped—that +her—"</p> + +<p>"Her brother stopped it? Raymond Armitage? He was so mean as +that—because I resented the way he treated me there at the theatre? +He—he has told her some lie, then, and I will tell <i>her</i>—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dorothea, Dorothea, wait, wait—listen to me! It is not—it was not +her brother, not Raymond Armitage, who stopped it; it was—it was—their +mother—it was Mrs. Armitage."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Armitage! and Raymond went to her—he got her to stop it? Oh, +how—"</p> + +<p>"No, no, he did not go to her. Oh, Dorothea," going forward and taking +Dorothea's hand, "won't you wait, won't you listen to me?"</p> + +<p>The soft touch of Hope's hand, the soft tone, so full of pity it sounded +like love, seemed to surprise Dorothea out of her gathering wrath for a +moment, and her own fingers closing over Hope's with a sudden clinging +movement, she answered hastily,—</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I'll listen, I'll listen; go on, go on!"</p> + +<p>And Hope, holding the girl's hand with that soft, firm touch, went on to +tell her the story that was so difficult for her to tell,—that "whole +truth" that she had decided that Dorothea must now know once for all. As +gently as possible, the talk with Bessie, the interview with Mrs. +Armitage was given; nothing, not even the reference to the New Year's +party episode and its prejudicial effect, being withheld; and yet +through it all Dorothea made no interruption, made no sign to show her +feeling, beyond now and then a convulsive clutch at the hand that was +holding hers, and a gradual fading away of the hot red color that had +suffused her face at the start. As Hope felt this clutch of her fingers +now and then, as she saw toward the end of her story the increasing +pallor of her companion's face, she could not help a thrill of +apprehension, for these signs seemed to her the signs of a storm that +would presently break forth; and as she came to the end, the very end of +what she had to say, she had a feeling of trying to steady herself, to +hold herself in readiness to argue or assert or soothe, whichever method +might seem best suited to stem or stay the outbreak she expected. But +what—what did this mean—this dead silence that followed, when she had +ceased speaking? Was this the calm before the dreaded storm? And Hope, +who had lowered her eyes toward the end of her story, instinctively +looked up,—looked up to see great tears rolling down the colorless +cheeks before her, and over all the face a pale passion of emotion that +did not seem to be the passion of anger. Could it be the passion of pain +only? Could it be that there was to be no storm of angry protest and +defiance even at the very first? No, there was to be no storm of that +kind. Dorothea had again surprised her!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + + +<p>But as the fears and apprehensions that beset her began to lessen, +Hope's pity and sympathy rose afresh, and with added vigor. She was +thinking how best to express this pity and sympathy without striking a +note of criticism that might injure the effect of what she had placed +before Dorothea, when Dorothea herself showed the way, as she suddenly +said,—</p> + +<p>"There's no use for me to stay here any longer. I'd better go home, +where people know me, and—and don't think my ways are so dreadful."</p> + +<p>There was no angry temper in this speech. Though the tone was rather +morose and bitter, it seemed to spring from a sudden appalled sense of +defeat and danger such as she had never heretofore experienced. And this +was just the situation. Hope's tact and kindness had presented the whole +truth so carefully that petty irritation was swallowed up in the +something serious that Dorothea herself but half comprehended, but from +which her first instinct was to flee,—to go home where people knew her +and didn't think her ways so dreadful.</p> + +<p>But, "No, no," Hope urged against this desire. "You must stay, +Dorothea,—stay and take a better place than you've ever taken before +with us; for you can, oh, you can, Dorothea. You can make us all love +and admire you if you have a mind to, if you won't—won't be <i>quite</i> so +headlong, so—so sure you are right in some things, so—childish in some +ways."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> childish! 'Tisn't childishness your Mrs. Armitage is finding fault +with!" blurted out Dorothea, in a bitter yet broken tone.</p> + +<p>"But it is just that. If you were small for our age instead of so big, +it would be called childishness; and as it is, I've heard you spoken of +as 'a spoilt child.' But you are so tall, so big, so womanly, most +people think you are a grown up young lady; and—and grown up young +<i>ladies</i> don't go on just in the way that you do, Dorothea."</p> + +<p>"'Just the way that I do!' Oh, I laugh, and I make too much noise in my +fun, I suppose you think; but what's the reason the Brookside people and +the lots of people we know all about Brookside,—what's the reason they +don't find fault with my ways and leave me out of their parties?"</p> + +<p>"You are a stranger here, Dorothea. You must remember that we never have +the same freedom, or are looked upon quite the same, in a place where we +are strangers, as where we have always lived," answered Hope, gently.</p> + +<p>"Then it's all the more reason why I'd better go home, where people know +me and don't think my ways so dreadful."</p> + +<p>"Dorothea, you have told me once or twice that your cousin found fault +with your ways, and perhaps—if he had not been your cousin, have known +you so well—if you had been a stranger to him, he might not have made a +friendly allowance for you; and, Dorothea, tell me one thing: did you +ever—ever go on there at home as you have here,—receiving gifts and +attentions, and going to the theatre on the—on the sly?"</p> + +<p>"N—o."</p> + +<p>"If you had, and it had been found out, do you think it would have been +passed over unnoticed?"</p> + +<p>"N—o, I don't suppose it would, but I shouldn't have been treated like +this,—left out like this."</p> + +<p>"No; because—because, Dorothea, you and your family are not +strangers,—because you are well known, and people forgive friends for a +long time."</p> + +<p>"Then I'd better go back to them, I'd better go back to them, and I +will, I will! Oh, I can't stay here, Hope, I can't, I can't! I see how +you'll all feel, how you'll think that I've been a disgrace to the +school, when this gets out that Mrs. Armitage wouldn't have me at the +party, and I can't, I can't stay."</p> + +<p>"Dorothea, Dorothea!" and Hope knelt down by the couch where Dorothea +had flung herself in an agony of tears,—knelt down, and putting her +arms about the suffering girl begged her never for a moment to think +that either she or Kate or Bessie would speak to the other girls about +Mrs. Armitage's action in regard to the invitation. "No, they will never +know from us, Dorothea,—never, never."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus8" id="illus8"></a> +<img src="images/illus8.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"<span class="smcap">Hope knelt down by the couch where Dorothea had flung herself</span>"</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"But—but what wi—will they think whe—when I—I don't—go to the +party?" sobbed Dorothea.</p> + +<p>"Of course they'll think there's been a falling out of some kind, and +there has; but it isn't necessary that they should be told what it is, +is it?"</p> + +<p>"N—o, n—o, but it wi—will ge—get out somehow. You—you'll see, Hope, +and I—I can't—I can't stay, and have them talking about my—my being +left out on—on purpose li—like this."</p> + +<p>"But even if the truth did get out, it would be a great deal worse for +you to run away than to stay, for it would look—it would +<i>be</i>—cowardly. No, no, Dorothea! you must stay, and I—I will help you +all I can; I will be your friend, whatever happens, and so will Kate."</p> + +<p>"Whatever happens." When Hope said this, she had little thought that +anything further in connection with the matter was to happen. She had +spoken out of her deep pity and sympathy, to soothe and sustain Dorothea +through a hard crisis,—to soothe and sustain and strengthen her to do +the courageous thing. She was quite sure, as she had said, that neither +Bessie nor Kate would tell the story of the arrested invitation; but she +made it still surer by exacting a solemn promise from them not to do +so,—a promise as solemnly kept as it was made. And yet, and yet, +somehow and from somewhere—was it through Mrs. Armitage or Raymond, +both of whom had given their word to Bessie to make no mention of the +subject?—a whisper of the truth, found its way, before the week was +over, into the schoolroom circle. And before the week was over, Dorothea +knew it! She knew it by the suddenly withdrawn glances as she looked up; +she knew it by the suddenly changed conversation as she approached; she +knew it by numberless little signs and indications in all directions. +And Hope, when she was presently beset by eager questions from one and +another,—Had she heard? and what did she think? and could it be +true?—poor Hope had hard work to fence and parry and hold her ground +without violating the truth. She succeeded at last, however, in +silencing her questioners; but she was perfectly well aware that she had +<i>only</i> silenced them as far as she herself was concerned.</p> + +<p>Kate Van der Berg also had a good deal of the same trying experience, +and bore it less amiably.</p> + +<p>"I'm sick to death of the whole subject," she said at length to Hope. "I +wish to mercy Dorothea Dering had never entered this house! But don't be +alarmed!" as she caught a startled look from Hope; "I'm not going to +back down. I'll be good to her, and I <i>do</i> pity her."</p> + +<p>"Pity her! I should think anybody <i>might</i> pity her," cried Hope, with +almost a sob. "It simply breaks my heart to see her."</p> + +<p>And to Dorothea, who came to her with this further trouble,—who said to +her, "You see, you see, it has all come out just as I thought it +would,"—to Dorothea she was an angel indeed, this sweet-souled +Hope,—an angel of real help in the stanch devotion of her +companionship, and the constant influence it exerted in soothing and +encouraging her to accept the condition of things as they were, and make +the best of them by making no aggressive protest. It was not easy for +Dorothea to pursue this course, and Hope could not help admiring the new +spirit of dignity which she seemed to develop in sticking to it.</p> + +<p>But there was a new element of knowledge coming to Dorothea through her +bitter experience. She had always heretofore been ready to fight against +any and every opposition, as I have shown. Now, for the first time, she +was beginning to feel the pressure of that great power of the great +world which we call the sentiment of society, and dimly but surely to +perceive that she must submit to it, or at least that, if she tried to +fight against it, it would be to her own destruction. But this new sense +of things, valuable though it was in its present restraining influence +and its promise of right development, did not tend to make Dorothea feel +easier or happier at the moment. Rather, the restraint chafed and +depressed her. In spite of this depression, however, she said no more +about going back to Brookside. She was discovering for herself that Hope +was right,—that it would be not only cowardly for her to run away, but +prejudicial to her interests in every direction. But how difficult it +was for her to live through these days with apparent calmness, only Hope +guessed. What Hope did not guess was the extent and power of her own +helpfulness at this crisis. Dorothea, however, was fully aware of it; +and one day,—it was the morning after the Valentine party,—when the +girls had naturally been very voluble in their reminiscences of the +evening, she said to Hope,—</p> + +<p>"Hope, you've helped me to <i>live</i> through this thing, and I shall always +remember it, and always, always love you for it. But for you I could +never have stayed here and stood things,—never, never, never!"</p> + +<p>Yet not then had she received the full measure of Hope's help. It was +when the days went by, and she found that the curiosity about herself +had subsided, she also found that in the indifference that had succeeded +this curiosity there was a shadow of something that she could give no +name to,—that she could not at once understand,—but that by and by she +came to know was that shadow of the world's disapproval that she had +been made acquainted with through Mrs. Armitage. It was then, when the +girl felt herself in the settled atmosphere of this shadow, that Hope +showed the full measure of her power to help.</p> + +<p>Not immediately realizing the condition of things, she could not +comprehend what seemed to her Dorothea's persistent shrinking from the +companionship of the others, and at last remonstrated with her in this +wise:—</p> + +<p>"Dorothea, you mustn't keep by yourself, and neglect the girls, as you +do. It isn't right or sensible."</p> + +<p>And to this Dorothea had replied, with a mirthless laugh,—</p> + +<p>"Neglect them! If there is any neglect going on, <i>I'm</i> not guilty of +it."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Just what I say. <i>I'm</i> not neglecting anybody."</p> + +<p>"You mean—that—that they are neglecting <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>Dorothea nodded. She could not command her voice to speak further.</p> + +<p>Hope was about to protest,—to say that there must be a mistake,—that +<i>she</i> had seen nothing, when suddenly the meaning of certain little +things, that she had but vaguely noticed at the time, flashed over her, +bringing the instantaneous conviction that Dorothea was right. And with +this conviction there sprung up in Hope's heart a hot flame of +indignation, and she set herself to think what further she could +do—what strong measure could be taken—to show these girls that they +were not to sit in judgment in this wholesale fashion, and to show them, +too, that Dorothea had stanch friends who believed in her virtues, even +while they admitted her faults, and would stand by her through thick and +thin.</p> + +<p>But what <i>could</i> she do further? She had indicated to the girls how +friendly she felt toward Dorothea, by bestowing upon her whatever kindly +attentions she could,—had walked with her and talked with her, and made +little visits to her room, which latter she had never been in the habit +of doing before. She had also influenced Kate to join her in these +attentions, and Kate had tried to do so,—not always successfully, +however; and yet all this had seemed to go for nothing against the tide +that had risen against the girl. What more <i>could</i> be done? There was +nothing, nothing more.</p> + +<p>Yes, yes, yes, there <i>was</i>—there <i>was</i> something more, there <i>was</i> +something! And as this "something" flashed into Hope's mind, she seized +Dorothea's hands in hers, and—</p> + +<p>"Dorothea, Dorothea!" she cried, "I have a plan,—something I want you +to do <i>for</i> me and <i>with</i> me. I am to play, you know, at the May +festival,—first, something Mr. Kolb has written specially for me; then, +later, a waltz also by Mr. Kolb. It is a duet, and Fraulein Schiller was +to play it with me; but she has got news of the illness of her mother, +and has gone home to Germany, and I have to choose some one to fill her +place; and I choose you, if you will take it."</p> + +<p>"Choose me,—<i>me</i>? Oh, Hope, Hope, Hope, I don't care for anything else +now,—not anything else! But, oh, <i>can</i> I, <i>can</i> I,—I'm afraid it's too +hard, that it's beyond me."</p> + +<p>"No, it isn't too hard, but I'll give you lessons; I'll practise with +you every day, if you'll study hard."</p> + +<p>"Study! I'll study every minute that I can get;" and then, quivering +with excitement, Dorothea flung herself upon the floor, and, putting her +head down on Hope's lap, cried brokenly,—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Hope, Hope, how angelic of you to do this for me <i>now, now</i>!"</p> + +<p>It was the last of March when this proposition was made, and the +festival was to come off the last of May, that being the end of the +school year at Miss Marr's; the festival itself being a sort of +celebration of the year's work,—a grand general class day.</p> + +<p>To have a special part assigned to one in the program of this day was to +be specially honored, and great was the surprise when it was found that +Dorothea had been thus honored.</p> + +<p>There were two or three others—outside pupils, to be sure, but Fraulein +Schiller was an outside pupil—from whom it was expected that Hope would +make her choice, as they were known to be, if not particularly +brilliant, yet very faithful students of the violin; and to pass these +by for Dorothea was surprising indeed, and not to be explained by any +mere good-nature. Hope Benham <i>was</i> a very good-natured girl, and had +been very kind and polite to Dorothea, the little school circle decided; +but they all knew how refined and fastidious and very, <i>very</i> sensitive +she was, and what she thought about things; and if she thought seriously +that Dorothea had really—<i>really</i> been so dreadfully loud and horrid as +they had heard, she would never have chosen her to stand up there before +all that festival audience with her. And arguing thus, this little +world, so like the big world under like circumstances, began to +re-consider things,—to think that perhaps—perhaps it might have made +mistakes in ranging itself so decidedly, and that it might be well in +that case to be a little less censorious in one's attitude. From this +there arose a slight change of tactics,—slight, but significant enough +if one were on the alert to take note of them; but Dorothea—Dorothea +was no longer so sensitively alert in these directions,—for morning, +noon, and night, at every regular practice hour, and sometimes at +irregular ones, her fiddle bow could be heard diligently at work, under +Hope's tutelage; and as she worked, as she surmounted difficulty after +difficulty in the musical score, she became so absorbed in her +occupation that she had little time to bestow upon other difficulties. +And so, day after day, the weeks went by, and brought at last the great +day they were all anticipating so anxiously,—the day of the May +Festival.</p> + +<p>It looked like the very heart of summer in the great hall at the top of +the house that festival morning, for it was literally made into a +perfect bower of wood and garden glories; windows, dome, aisles, and +stage wreathed and hung with forest growths, and set about with +flowering plants. At the back of the stage the arched doorway that led +into the anteroom was so skilfully decorated that it appeared like a +natural opening into some woodland way; and as the audience began to +fill the seats, and there came to them through this sylvan opening a +soft overture from unseen violins and piano, there was at first a hush +of delight and then a general burst of applause. The group of girls who +were not to take special parts and who sat together well down in front, +looked at each other inquiringly. The overture was a surprise to them, +as it was to all but the two or three behind the scenes.</p> + +<p>"It is Hope's doing, of course," one girl whispered. "And of course the +second violin is Dorothea!" whispered another, and then presently still +another whisper arose. It was Hope's doing, of course—because—Dorothea +probably had failed to perfect herself in the duet she had +undertaken—or—or Hope herself perhaps had failed in her courage to—to +stand up there before that festival-audience with Dorothea! This last +suggestion was caught at and turned over and over, until at length it +seemed to become a certainty. Yes, that was the only explanation of this +little overture being sprung upon them without warning. Hope's courage +had failed, and to console Dorothea in a measure, she had brought her +into this new arrangement!</p> + +<p>The little group of girls would not have owned to the disappointment +that they felt as they settled down upon this explanation; but with all +the Armitages, except Raymond, present in full force, every girl of the +group had somehow counted upon rather a sensation when Dorothea +appeared. How Bessie would stare, they had thought—Bessie, who had not +been back to school since her birthday party,—how she would stare and +wonder, and how surprised Mrs. Armitage would look to see the girl that +she had so disapproved of brought forward so conspicuously! But +now—well, things began to fall a trifle flat in the failure of such a +delectable sensation, and they gave a somewhat wavering attention to +what immediately followed. They brightened up, however, as Hope played +her "Mayflowers," and, applauding vigorously, found time to wonder what +that queer sub-title, "Ten Cents a Bunch," meant, and resolved that they +would ask her sometime; and then they yawned and fidgeted, and looked at +their little chatelaine watches, and craned their necks to look at the +people behind them, and nodded at this one and that one, and finally +fell to studying their programs, and glanced significantly, and with a +little air of "I told you so," at each other, as they saw that the duet +number had just been passed over. After this they settled themselves +comfortably back to wait for the close of the exercises, when the best +of the festival to their thinking was to come,—the meeting with their +friends, the introductions to the other girls' friends, the gay talking +and walking about, and the merry end of it all, when, as if by magic, +the pretty bowery stage was to be converted into a sylvan tea-room, +presided over by a chosen number of the school-girls.</p> + +<p>Only two brief exercises,—a short essay by Anna Fleming and a little +aria of Schumann's by Myra Donaldson, and then ho, for the anticipated +festival fun, these waiting girls jubilantly thought; and so absorbed +were they in this thought that their attention was only half given to +Anna's clever little essay upon School Friendships, which had some sharp +hits in it; but they nevertheless joined in the vigorous applause, +though by that time their attention had entirely wandered from the stage +to the movements of a new late arrival just outside the doorway,—a tall +fine-looking man that Mrs. Sibley, Hope's friend, was smiling radiantly +upon, and beckoning to her seat. Who <i>could</i> he be? But hark! what—what +sound was that? A violin? But Schumann's aria was a solo,—Hope was not +to play with Myra! No, no, Hope was not to play with Myra, for +there—there upon the stage, Hope in her white dress was standing +beside—Dorothea! The duet had not been omitted then, only carried +forward!</p> + +<p>No more yawning and fidgeting now from the group of girls; with eager +interest they leaned forward to see the two white-robed figures as they +stood there side by side,—one with her waving golden-brown hair, her +golden-brown eyes, and fair soft coloring; the other with her shining +black locks, her great sombre orbs,—for there was no light of laughter +in them at this moment,—and the strange pallor of coloring that at that +instant lent almost a tragic look to her face. No, no more yawning and +fidgeting now, and no more doubt or question of Dorothea's ability to +play her part, as the sweet full strains rose harmoniously together. +Dorothea had studied, indeed,—had studied so ardently that she had +greatly surprised Hope at the last by her accuracy and finish. But as +she stood there before the festival audience, she surprised her still +further by the something more than the accuracy and finish,—that +something that every musical artist recognizes, that Hope at once +recognized,—the touch of living, breathing, individual emotion, of +passionate personal appeal. With a thrill of sympathy, Hope +instinctively responded to this, and there arose a strain of such +moving, melting power that the audience, listening in breathless +delight, broke forth at the end in a little whirlwind of applause.</p> + +<p>The aria that followed was beautifully rendered, but the audience could +not seem to fix its attention upon it as it should have done; and Myra +had scarcely struck her last note when there was a general uprising, and +hastening forward toward the little flock of girl-students who had taken +part in the exercises. In the centre of this flock, standing together, +were Hope and Dorothea, and there was a buzz of girl talk going on about +them,—a buzz of congratulation, of enthusiasm, not one of the girls +hanging back,—when over it all, Hope suddenly caught the sound of +another voice,—a deep manly voice,—the voice of—of—oh, could it be? +Yes, yes, it was; and starting forward, she cried joyfully, "Oh it +<i>is</i>—it <i>is</i> my father!" and the next instant her father's arms were +round her, and his kisses on her cheek.</p> + +<p>Her father! Dorothea glanced up eagerly. <i>That</i>, that +distinguished-looking man the man who was once a locomotive engineer! +Had she heard aright? Yes, she had heard aright, for presently there was +Mrs. Sibley saying in answer to some questioner,—</p> + +<p>"It's her father, yes; he's the great inventor, you know. He came on +unexpectedly, and is to take Hope back with him to spend the summer in +the north of France."</p> + +<p>And presently, again, Dorothea saw Miss Marr and the Van Der Bergs and +the Sibleys and—yes, the Armitages, looking up and listening with the +most admiring interest to this man who was once a locomotive engineer!</p> + +<p>What would Dorothea have thought, how would she have felt, if she had +heard Mrs. Armitage say to one of her acquaintances a little later,—</p> + +<p>"There must be something fine and good, after all, in this Dorothea +Dering, to attract to herself and make a friend of such a girl as Mr. +Benham's daughter; and certainly she has shown a very refined taste in +her manner of playing. I wonder if she hasn't been improved all round by +Miss Benham's influence?"</p> + +<p>And what would she have thought if she had heard Miss Marr talking in +somewhat the same strain to Mr. Benham,—telling him what a restraining, +refining influence his dear little daughter had had over one of the most +difficult of all her charges; and what would she have felt if she could +have known all Mr. Benham's thoughts on this subject as he listened +there with that rather grave smile of his?</p> + +<p>But Dorothea heard and knew nothing of all this. She only heard and felt +the warmth of appreciation that had followed her violin performance. She +only saw that the little world that had turned away from her was now +turning toward her, and her spirits began to rise once more. But they +did not overflow all reasonable bounds as before. There was a new +reserve in her demeanor that certainly did not rob her of her +attractiveness, if one could judge from the kindly looks cast upon her +by some of the older people, as she helped in the tea-table +hospitalities.</p> + +<p>Some of the younger people too seemed not to be blind to this new +attractiveness. But it remained for Peter Van Loon to express the real +effect produced, and he did it fully, as he suddenly turned to Hope from +a long observation of Dorothea at her tea-table duties,—turned and said +in that odd way of his,—</p> + +<p>"I say, now, she'll get to be an awfully nice girl by and by, won't she, +if she keeps on—on this track?"</p> + +<p>Hope felt a little startled, though she couldn't help being amused at +this queer remark of Peter's; but she quite agreed with it, and told him +so; and then Peter said in the same emphatic way,—</p> + +<p>"I've heard all about it—how you've stuck to her—from Kate—Kate Van +der Berg; and I'd—I'd like to say, if you don't mind, that you're a +trump, Miss Benham; and the other fellows think so too."</p> + + +<h3>THE END.</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="KATHARINE_RUTH_ELLIS" id="KATHARINE_RUTH_ELLIS"></a>KATHARINE RUTH ELLIS</h2> + +<h3>WIDE AWAKE GIRLS SERIES</h3> + + +<h3>THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Sears Gallagher.</h3> + +<p>A book doubly remarkable because its excellent workmanship comes from a +hand hitherto untried.—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + +<p>Its excellent literary tone, simple, refined, and its frequent humor and +fresh, strong interest commend it as a most promising first volume of +"The Wide Awake Girls" series.—<i>Hartford Times.</i></p> + +<p>The quiet and cultured home life presented forms a pleasing contrast to +the more showy and hollow life of the wealthy and wins the reader by a +strong and subtle spell. The whole story is fresh and bracing and full +of good points and information as well.—<i>St. Louis Globe Democrat.</i></p> + + +<h3>THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS AT WINSTED</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Sears Gallagher.</h3> + +<p>It is another charming book, without sentimentality or gush about the +four girls who made such a jolly quartette in the preceding +story.—<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p> + +<p>Incidents are many, and the story is vivaciously told. The tone +throughout is refined and the spirit stimulating.—<i>Brooklyn Daily +Times.</i></p> + +<p>Those who read the first volume of Katharine Ruth Ellis' "Wide Awake +Girls" series last year will welcome the second volume. They will +encounter again the same four girls of the previous book, all at +Catharine's home in Winsted, and they will find them just as vivacious +and entertaining as ever.—<i>Chicago Tribune.</i></p> + + +<h3>THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS AT COLLEGE</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Sears Gallagher.</h3> + +<p>The third volume in the "Wide Awake Girls" series finds the four friends +at Dexter, where they live the happy, merry life of the modern college +girl. Miss Ellis still maintains the atmosphere of quiet refinement, and +has introduced an older element, which lends much to the interest of the +book—the element of love and romance. The "Wide Awakes" are growing up +and Catharine's love story delights her associates.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ANNA HAMLIN WEIKEL'S BETTY BAIRD SERIES</h2> + + +<h3>BETTY BAIRD</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown.</h3> + +<p>A boarding school story, with a charming heroine, delightfully narrated. +The book is lively and breezy throughout.—<i>Philadelphia Press.</i></p> + +<p>A true presentment of girl life.—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> + +<p>Betty is a heroine so animated and charming that she wins the reader's +affection at once. When she enters the boarding school she is shy, +old-fashioned, and not quite so well-dressed as some of the other girls. +It is not long, however, before her lovable character wins her many +friends, and she becomes one of the most popular girls in the +school.—<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p> + +<p>The illustrations, by Ethel Pennewill Brown, are remarkably successful +in their portrayal of girlish spirit and charm.—<i>New York Times.</i></p> + + +<h3>BETTY BAIRD'S VENTURES</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown.</h3> + +<p>Will please the girls who liked the piquant and original Betty, when she +first appeared in the volume bearing her name.—<i>Hartford Times.</i></p> + +<p>The very spirit of youth is in these entertaining pages.—<i>St. Paul +Pioneer Press.</i></p> + + +<h3>BETTY BAIRD'S GOLDEN YEAR</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown.</h3> + +<p>In the third and concluding volume of "The Betty Baird Series," Betty is +shown happily at work in her profession, still earnest in her purpose to +pay off the mortgage, and in the meantime to make her home a centre of +useful interests.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ANNA CHAPIN RAY'S "TEDDY" STORIES</h2> + + +<p>Miss Ray's work draws instant comparison with the best of Miss Alcott's: +first, because she has the same genuine sympathy with boy and girl life; +secondly, because she creates real characters, individual and natural, +like the young people one knows, actually working out the same kind of +problems; and, finally, because her style of writing is equally +unaffected and straightforward.—<i>Christian Register</i>, Boston.</p> + + +<h3>TEDDY: HER BOOK. A Story of Sweet Sixteen</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Vesper L. George.</h3> + +<p>This bewitching story of "Sweet Sixteen," with its earnestness, +impetuosity, merry pranks, and unconscious love for her hero, has the +same spring-like charm.—<i>Kate Sanborn.</i></p> + + +<h3>PHEBE: HER PROFESSION. A Sequel to "Teddy: Her Book"</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill.</h3> + +<p>This is one of the few books written for young people in which there is +to be found the same vigor and grace that one demands in a good story +for older people.—<i>Worcester Spy.</i></p> + + +<h3>TEDDY: HER DAUGHTER</h3> + +<h3>A Sequel to "Teddy: Her Book," and "Phebe: Her Profession"</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by J. B. Graff.</h3> + +<p>It is a human story, all the characters breathing life and +activity.—<i>Buffalo Times.</i></p> + + +<h3>NATHALIE'S CHUM</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Ellen Bernard Thompson.</h3> + +<p>Nathalie is the sort of a young girl whom other girls like to read +about.—<i>Hartford Courant.</i></p> + + +<h3>URSULA'S FRESHMAN. A Sequel to "Nathalie's Chum"</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards.</h3> + +<p>The best of a series already the best of its kind.—<i>Boston Herald.</i></p> + + +<h3>NATHALIE'S SISTER. A Sequel to "Ursula's Freshman"</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens.</h3> + +<p>Peggy, the heroine, is a most original little lady who says and does all +sorts of interesting things. She has pluck and spirit, and a temper, but +she is very lovable, and girls will find her delightful to read +about.—<i>Louisville Evening Post.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ANNA CHAPIN RAY'S "SIDNEY" STORIES</h2> + + +<h3>SIDNEY: HER SUMMER ON THE ST. LAWRENCE</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens.</h3> + +<p>The young heroine is a forceful little maiden of sweet sixteen. The +description of picnics in the pretty Canadian country are very gay and +enticing, and Sidney and her friends are a merry group of wholesome +young people.—<i>Churchman</i>, New York.</p> + + +<h3>JANET: HER WINTER IN QUEBEC</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens.</h3> + +<p>Gives a delightful picture of Canadian life, and introduces a group of +young people who are bright and wholesome and good to read about.-<i>-New +York Globe.</i></p> + + +<h3>DAY: HER YEAR IN NEW YORK</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards.</h3> + +<p>A good story, bright, readable, cheerful, natural, free from +sentimentality.—<i>New York Sun.</i></p> + + +<h3>SIDNEY AT COLLEGE</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards.</h3> + +<p>The book is replete with entertaining incidents of a young woman who is +passing through her freshman year at college.—<i>Brooklyn Eagle.</i></p> + + +<h3>JANET AT ODDS</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards.</h3> + +<p>An ideal book for an American girl. It directs a girl's attention to +something beside the mere conventional side of life. It teaches her to +be self-reliant. Its atmosphere is hopeful and helpful.—<i>Boston Globe.</i></p> + + +<h3>SIDNEY: HER SENIOR YEAR</h3> + +<h3>Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards.</h3> + +<p>This delightful story completes the author's charming and popular series +of Sidney Books. Day, Janet, and a host of their bright friends meet +again at Smith College, where Sidney is the President of the Senior +Class, and their gayety fill the pages with spirited incidents.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hope Benham, by Nora Perry + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPE BENHAM *** + +***** This file should be named 36105-h.htm or 36105-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/0/36105/ + +Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Hope Benham + A Story for Girls + +Author: Nora Perry + +Release Date: May 14, 2011 [EBook #36105] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPE BENHAM *** + + + + +Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + + HOPE BENHAM. + + A Story for Girls. + + By NORA PERRY + +AUTHOR OF "LYRICS AND LEGENDS," "ANOTHER FLOCK OF GIRLS," "A ROSEBUD +GARDEN OF GIRLS," ETC. + + + Illustrated by + FRANK T. MERRILL. + + BOSTON: + LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. + + _Copyright, 1894_, + BY NORA PERRY. + + Printers + S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. + + +[Illustration: "TEN CENTS A BUNCH"] + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. + + +"TEN CENTS A BUNCH" + +"HE LIFTED THE BOW AND DREW IT ACROSS THE STRINGS" + +"SHE TOOK HOPE'S VIOLIN FROM HER HANDS" + +"IT WAS THE WORK OF A MOMENT TO POSSESS HERSELF OF THE BOOK" + +"HOW DE DO, HOPE?" + +"SHE STOOD THERE AN IMAGE OF GRACE, HER CHIN BENT LOVINGLY DOWN TO HER +VIOLIN" + +"DON'T, DON'T GO" + +"HOPE KNELT DOWN BY THE COUCH WHERE DOROTHEA HAD FLUNG HERSELF" + + + + +HOPE BENHAM. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +"Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" + +A party of three young girls coming briskly around the southwest corner +of the smart little Brookside station, hearing this call, turned, then +stopped, then exclaimed all together,-- + +"Oh, how perfectly lovely! the first I have seen. Just what I want!" and +they pulled out their purses to buy "just what they wanted," just what +everybody wants,--a bunch of trailing arbutus. + +"And they are made up so prettily, without all that stiff arbor-vitae +framing. What is this dear little leafy border?" asked one of the young +ladies, glancing up from her contemplation of the flowers to the +flower-seller. + +"It's the partridge-berry leaf." + +"Oh! and you picked them all yourself,--the arbutus and this +partridge-berry leaf?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh!" repeated the young lady, giving a stare at the little +flower-seller,--a stare that was quickly followed by another question,-- + +"Do you live near here?" + +"Yes; very near." + +"But you don't find this arbutus in Brookside?" + +"No, in Riverview." + +"In Riverview! why, I didn't know that the arbutus grew so near Boston +as that." + + +"We have always found a little in Riverview woods, but this year there +is quite a large quantity." + +Riverview was the next station to Brookside. In Riverview were +manufactories, locomotives, and iron-works, and in Riverview lived the +people who worked in these manufactories. But in Brookside were only +fine suburban residences, and a few handsome public buildings, for in +Brookside lived the owners of the manufactories and other rich folk, who +liked to be out of the smoke and grime of toil. The railroad station of +Brookside, as contrasted with that of Riverview, showed the difference +in the residents of the two places; for the Brookside station was a fine +and elegant stone structure, suited to fine and elegant folk, and the +Riverview station was just a plain little wooden building, hardly more +than a platform and a shelter. + +"But you don't live in Riverview, do you?" was the next question the +young lady asked of the flower-seller, about whom she seemed to have a +great deal of curiosity. + +"Yes; I live in Riverview," was the answer, with an upward glance of +surprise at the questioner and the question. Why should the young lady +question her in that tone, when she said, "But you don't live in +Riverview?" + +The next question was more easily understood. + +"You come over to the Brookside station to sell your flowers, don't you, +because there are likely to be more buyers here?" + +"Oh, yes; I couldn't sell them at Riverview." + +Just then other voices were heard, and other people began to gather +about the flower-seller, who from that time was kept busy until the +train approached. As the cars moved away from the station, the young +lady who had been so curious looked out of the window, and then said to +her companions,-- + +"She has sold every bunch." + +"What? Oh, that flower-girl! Why in the world were you so interested in +her?" one of the girls asked wonderingly. + +"Why? Did you look at her?" + +"I can't say that I did, particularly. What was there peculiar about +her?" + +"Nothing. Only she didn't look like a poor child,--a common child, you +know, who would sell things on the street. She was very prettily and +neatly dressed, and she spoke just like--well, just like any +well-brought-up little girl." + +"Did she?" politely remarked her friend, in an absent way. She was not +in the least interested in this flower-girl. Her thoughts were turning +in a very different direction,--the direction of her spring shopping, a +gay little party, and a dozen other kindred subjects. + +In the mean time the little flower-seller, with a light basket and a +lighter heart, was waiting for the down train. It was only a mile from +Brookside to Riverview, an easy walk for a strong, sturdy girl of ten; +but all the same, this strong, sturdy girl of ten preferred to ride, and +you will see why presently. The down or out-going train from Boston +passes the in-going train a short distance from Brookside, and she had +only five minutes to wait for it. This five minutes was very happily +employed in mentally counting up her sales, as she walked to and fro +upon the platform. She had brought twenty bunches of arbutus in her +basket, and she had sold every one. Twenty bunches at ten cents a bunch +made two dollars. She gave a little hop, skip, and jump, as she thought +of this sum. + +Two dollars! Now, if she should go again this very afternoon to the +Riverview woods and gather a new supply, she might come back to +Brookside and be ready when the 5.30 train brought people home from the +city. So many people drove down to the station then to meet their +husbands or fathers or brothers,--ladies and children too. It would be +just the very best hour of all to sell flowers. Yes, she would certainly +do it. It was only half-past one. She would have ample time, and then +perhaps she would double--Cling-a-ling-a-ling, went the electric +announcement of the coming train, and pouf, pouf, pouf, comes the train +down the line, and there is her father looking out for her from the +engine cab. He nods and smiles to her, and in another minute she has +been helped up, and is standing beside him. + +"Well, Hope, how did the flowers go?" + +"I sold them all,--twenty bunches. Now!" The last word was thrown out as +a joyful exclamation of triumph. Her father laughed a little. "And, +father, I want to go to the woods again this afternoon for more flowers, +and come back here for the 5.30 train,--there's such lots of people on +that train." + +The father looked grave. + +"Oh, do let me, please!" + +"I don't like to have you hanging around a station so much." + +"But Brookside is different from a great many stations. There are no +rough people ever about;" and with a brisk little air, "It's business, +you see." + +Mr. Benham laughed again, as he said, "Two dollars a day is pretty good +business, I should think." + +"But it won't last long,--only this vacation week. 'T isn't as if I were +going to make two dollars every day all through the season." + +"That is true. Well, go ahead and 'make hay while the sun shines.' +You'll be a better business fellow than your father if you keep on. But +here we are at Riverview. Mind, now, that you leave Brookside to-night +on the six o'clock train, no matter whether you've sold your flowers or +not." + +"Yes, sir." There was a joyful sound in this "Yes, sir," and a happy +upward look at her father, which he did not catch, however, for not once +did his eyes move from their steady watchfulness of the road before him. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +"There he comes!" and Hope ran forward out of the little garden to meet +her father, as he came down the street, while her mother turned from the +door where she had been waiting and watching with Hope, and went back +into the tiny dining-room to put a few finishing-touches to the +supper-table. Mr. Benham nodded as he caught sight of Hope. Then he +called out,-- + +"How's business?" + +"Two dollars more!" + +"Well, well, you'll be a big capitalist soon at this rate, and grind the +poor." + +"Poor engineers like John Benham!" and Hope laughed gleefully at their +joint joke. + +"Yes, poor engineers like John Benham, who have extravagant daughters +who want to buy violins. But, Hope, you mustn't get your thoughts so +fixed on this violin business that you can't think of anything else. +Your school, you know, begins next week." + +"Yes, I know. I sha'n't neglect that. I wouldn't get marked down for +anything." + +"You're going to learn to be a teacher, you know; keep that in mind." + +"I do; I do. Oh, father dear, don't worry about the music! 'All work and +no play makes Jack a dull boy,' you said the other day. Now, music is my +play. Some of the girls in my classes go to dancing-school, and do lots +of things to amuse themselves. They don't seem to neglect their lessons, +and why should I, with just this one thing outside, that I like to do?" + +There was a twinkle in John Benham's eyes, as he looked down at his +daughter. + +"Who taught you to argue, Hope?" + +"A poor engineer named John Benham," answered Hope, as quick as a flash. + +John Benham laughed outright at this quick retort; and as he opened the +gate that led into the little garden in front of his house, he put his +arm over his daughter's shoulder, and thus affectionately side by side +they walked along the narrow pathway. They were great friends, he and +Hope. He used to tell her that as she was an only child, she must be son +and daughter too, and he had very early got into the habit of talking to +her in a confidential fashion that had the effect of making her a sort +of little comrade from the first. + +The young lady who had wondered at the little flower-seller's looking +and speaking just like any other well-brought-up little girl would have +had further cause for wonder if she could have followed the engineer and +his daughter into their home, and seen the good taste of its pretty +though inexpensive furnishing and arrangements. Locomotive engineers +were unknown persons to this young lady. They belonged to the +laboring-class; and that in her mind included all mechanical workers, +from the skilled artisan to the ignorant hod-carrier and wielder of pick +and shovel. She knew that the latter lived poorly, in poor quarters, +crowded tenement houses, or shabby little frame cottages or cabins of +two or three rooms. As the difference in the different work did not +occur to her, neither did the possible difference in the manner of +living. + +There are older people than this young lady, this pretty Mary Dering, +who are almost as unintelligent about the workers of the world, and they +would have been almost as astonished as she, not only at the good taste +of the simple furnishings, but at the signs of intelligent thought in +the collection of books and magazines on the table. If pretty Mary +Dering, however, could have seen all these things, she would not have +wondered so much at Hope's speaking and looking like any well-brought-up +little girl. + +Hope _was_ a well-brought-up little girl, as you will see,--as well +brought up as Mary herself, or Mary's sister Dolly, who was just Hope's +age. If you had said this to Mary Dering, she would have told you that +she could not imagine a well-brought-up child selling things on the +street. Dolly would never have been allowed to stand in public places +and cry, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" under any +circumstances. But Mary did not know how much circumstances altered +cases; and for one thing, if she _could_ have seen Dolly in Hope's place +for one half-hour, she would have had to own that Hope was much the +better behaved of the two, for in spite of Dolly's bringing up, she was +the greatest little rattler in public places, calling down upon herself +this constant remonstrance from each one of her family, "Now, Dolly, do +try to be quiet, like a lady!" + +"But why, why, _why_," you ask, "did Hope, with such a nice, intelligent +father, who could buy all those magazines and books,--why did she need +to earn the money herself, to buy a violin?" + +I'll tell you. To begin with, all those books and magazines were not +bought by Mr. Benham; they were, with one or two exceptions, taken from +the Boston Public Library. Mr. Benham's salary was only fifteen hundred +dollars a year, and it took every cent of this to keep up that simple +little home, and put by a sum every week for a rainy day. + +Hope loved music, and she loved the music of a violin beyond any other +kind. One day when she was in Boston, she saw the dearest little violin +in a shop-window. What possessed her I don't know, for she knew she +hadn't a penny in the world; but she went in and asked the price of it +with the easiest air imaginable. + +"Twenty-five dollars," the shopkeeper told her. + +"Oh!" and Hope drew in her breath. Twenty-five dollars! It might as well +have been twenty-five thousand dollars, for all the possibility of her +possessing it. + +"Don't--don't they have cheaper ones?" she asked timidly. + +"They have things they _call_ violins for ten, fifteen, twenty dollars, +but they'd crack your ears. If you're going to learn to play, this is a +good little fiddle for you to begin with, for it's true and sweet;" and +the shopkeeper lifted it up and drew the bow across the strings, in a +melodious, rippling strain that went to Hope's heart. + +The man thought that she was going to take lessons; and she could, if +she only had an instrument, for Mr. Kolb, an old German neighbor of +theirs, who had once been the first violin in a famous orchestra, had +said to her more than once when she had listened to his playing with +delight: "Some day your fader will puy you a little violin, and I will +teach you for notting, Maedchen; you have such true lofe for music." + +But twenty-five dollars! Oh, no! it could never be! and Hope went out of +the shop with her plans laid low. + +A few minutes later, as she was walking to the station, she heard a +boy's voice, crying, "Ten cents a bunch! ten cents a bunch!" + +She looked up, and saw that he held some very meagre little nosegays of +arbutus,--meagre, that is, as to the arbutus, but made sizable by the +border of stiff arbor-vitae. Then, all at once, the thought flashed into +her mind. Why shouldn't she turn flower-seller? She knew where the +arbutus grew thick, thick; and why, why--There was no putting the rest +of her thoughts into words; but right there on the street she gave a +little jump, and hummed the rippling strain she had just heard drawn +from the good little fiddle. + +Twenty-five dollars! What was that now with "Ten cents a bunch! ten +cents a bunch!" ringing in her ears with such alluring possibilities? + +Mr. Benham at first would not hear to the flower-selling plan; but when +he saw that Hope's heart was set upon that "good little fiddle," when he +heard her say to her mother, "If father can't buy the fiddle for me, it +seems to me he might let me try to buy it for myself," he began to +relent; and when the mother and he had a talk, and the mother said, "Of +course you can't afford to buy it, John, for we are a little behind now, +with your and my winter suits, and the new range to pay for yet; but as +I really think it will be a good thing for Hope to learn to play the +violin, I don't see why it wouldn't be a good thing for her to earn it +herself," he relented still more, and when the mother said further, in +answer to his objections to having Hope hanging around in public places, +as a little peddler, "John, you can trust Hope; she is a sensible +child," he relented entirely; and the next week after, Hope entered upon +her business as a flower-seller. + +The success of that first day was a surprise to her father, and he +warned her not to expect anything like it on the succeeding days, +telling her that the weather would very likely turn chilly and rainy, +that fewer people might be going and coming from town, and that even +these might not stop to buy flowers. He did not want to discourage her; +he simply wanted to prepare her for disappointment. But Hope was not +doomed to disappointment in this direction. The succeeding days proved +both pleasant and profitable; especially profitable were Wednesday and +Saturday afternoons, when so many ladies went in to the matinee +performances. Yet with all this success, this pleasantness of weather, +and steady increase in her sales, there was something very _un_pleasant +for Hope to bear,--something that she had not in the least looked for, +because she had never before met with anything like it. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +It was on Wednesday that a little party of girls came hurrying into the +Brookside station, as if they had not a minute to lose, when one of them +exclaimed: "Why, our train has gone; look at that!" pointing to the +indicator. "The next train goes at 1.40. We shall have only twenty +minutes to get from the Boston station to the Museum." + +"Time enough," answered Mary Dering; "we always go too early. But +there's our little girl. We shall have ample opportunity now to buy all +the flowers we want. Dolly," to her younger sister, who was marching up +and down the platform with a friend of her own age, "Dolly, don't you +want to buy some flowers?" + +"Flowers? Oh, yes!" and Dolly came racing up, calling out in a loud +whisper, as she joined the group, "Say, Mary, is that your wonderful +flower-girl?" + +"Hush, Dolly; don't!" + +"Don't what?" + +"Don't whisper so loudly; she can hear you." + +Dolly laughed. "What if she does? I didn't say anything that wasn't +nice." + +The group of girls pressed around Hope, and bought lavishly of her +stock. Dolly and her friend Lily Styles were the latest of the buyers, +for coming up last they were on the outside of the group. As they stood +alone with Hope, they picked and pecked first at one bouquet, and then +another. This was fuller, and that was bigger, and still another was +prettier and pinker. At last they made a choice, and Hope breathed a +sigh of relief at the thought that now her exacting purchasers would +leave her to herself. But Dolly Dering had no notion of leaving Hope to +herself. No sooner was the purchase concluded than Miss Dolly, lifting +her big black eyes with a curious gaze to Hope's face, asked abruptly,-- + +"Do you like to sell flowers on the street?" + +Hope flushed hotly. "I don't sell flowers on the street." + +"Well, in a station, then. I should think that was just the same as on +the street; it's out-of-doors in a public place." + +Hope made no further reply. She would have moved away if she could have +done so easily, but the two girls stood directly in front of her, +completely shutting her into her corner. Perhaps, however, they would go +away if she busied herself with her flowers, and she began to re-arrange +and spray them with water. But Dolly, at sight of this operation, began +with fresh interest, "Oh! is that the way you keep 'em fresh? How nice! +let me try it, do!" and before Hope could say "yes" or "no," she had +seized the sprayer out of her hands. Her first effort, instead of +benefiting the flowers, sent a sharp little sprinkle directly against +Hope's light cloth jacket. Hope started back with an exclamation of +dismay. + +"Oh, it won't hurt it!" cried Dolly. Then, as she saw Hope rubbing the +wet place with her handkerchief, she asked, "Will your mother punish you +if she finds the jacket spotted?" + +"Punish me?" exclaimed Hope, looking up at the questioner. + +"Yes, punish you; whip you, perhaps." + +"My mother--whip me?" ejaculated Hope, staring at Dolly, as if she +thought her out of her mind. + +"Yes, whip you; I didn't know--" + +"Would _your_ mother whip _you_ if you got spots on _your_ jacket?" +inquired Hope, in a sharp, indignant voice. + +"_My_ mother? No." + +"Then why should you think _my_ mother would whip _me_?" + +Dolly was not a very sensitive young person, but she could not blurt out +exactly what was in her mind,--that she thought all poor people, +working-people, whipped their children when they offended them in any +way. Her ideas of poor people were very vague, and gathered partly from +the talk of her elders about the North End poor that the Associated +Charities assisted. In this talk a word now and then concerning the +careless way in which these people beat their children for the slightest +offence impressed her more than anything. Then Bridget Kelly, who had +been Dolly's nurse, had often related stories of her own childish +naughtinesses, for her--Dolly's--benefit, and she had almost invariably +wound up these stories with the remark, "And didn't my mother beat me +well for being such a bad girl!" + +Dolly had put this and that together, and come to the conclusion that +poor people were all alike,--a good deal as her sister had included all +mechanical workers together. But if Miss Dolly couldn't blurt out all +that was in her mind, she had very little tact of concealment, and when +she replied to Hope's question something about people's being different, +and that she knew that some people beat their children for doing things +they didn't like them to do, she unwittingly made things quite clear +enough to Hope, with her fine, keen intelligence, so clear that she +comprehended at once the whole state of the case. What would have +happened when this moment of comprehension suddenly came to Hope, what +she would have said if there had been time to say anything, it is +needless to conjecture, for there wasn't an instant of time for a word, +as at that very moment, pouf, pouf, pouf, the train steamed into the +station, and Dolly Dering and her friend Lily ran scampering down the +platform. + +Hope looked after them, with eyes blinded by hot, angry tears. The last +few minutes had been a revelation to her of the thoughtless +misunderstandings of the world. To think that she--Hope Benham--should +be ranked with that vast ignorant class of "poor people" who "lived +anyhow," all because she was selling flowers in a public place! "They +might have known better, if they had any sense; they might have known at +a glance!" And with this indignant thought, Hope went into the ladies' +waiting-room, and surveyed herself in the mirror that hung there. What +did she see? A bright-faced girl, clean and fresh, with neatly braided +hair; clothed in a little fawn-colored jacket, a brown dress, and with a +pretty plain brown felt hat upon her head. To be sure, she wore no +gloves; but her hands were nicely kept, the nails well cut and rosily +clean. To mix her up with poor people who "lived anyhow"! Perhaps they +fancied, those girls, that the fawn-colored jacket and the brown dress +and the hat were given to her,--gifts of charity! Yes, that was what +they fancied, of course. They had talked her over. "Is that your +wonderful flower-girl?" she had overheard the younger girl say to the +older. She had been called this because she was dressed decently, +because she behaved herself decently. They couldn't understand--these +rich people--how any one who sold flowers, who sold anything--_on the +street_--yes, that was what they called it--could be decent. Oh, it was +they who were ignorant,--these rich people! They didn't know anything +about other people's lives,--other people who were not rich like +themselves. + +Hope's little purse was full of shining silver pieces as she went back +to Riverview, but her heart was fuller of bitterness. + +"You look tired, Hope," said her mother, anxiously, as Hope walked into +the house. But Hope declared that she was not in the least tired, that +it was only the tiresomeness of some of her customers,--fussy folk, who +picked and pecked and asked questions. Not a word more did she say. She +was not going to worry her mother, hurt her feelings as hers had been +hurt with the foolish, ignorant talk of those foolish, ignorant, rich +girls,--not she! So she comforted herself by counting up her silver +pieces, and reckoning how much nearer she was to the "good little +fiddle." She tried to keep the little fiddle and the sweet strain the +shopkeeper had drawn from it, continually in her mind, as she stood in +the station again that night on the arrival of the 5.30 train. The good +little fiddle, with the sweet strain, should be the shield against +tormenting questioners and questions. But she was not to be tormented +that night by any one. + +Dolly Dering did not even look at her, as she skipped by. Dolly was too +eager to secure a place beside her father on the front seat of the +carriage, as they drove home, to see or think about anything else. Even +Mary Dering did not find time, as she went by, to cast an interested +glance towards that "wonderful flower-girl." There were plenty of +purchasers, however, without the little matinee group,--ladies and +gentlemen just returning from shopping or business,--plenty of +purchasers; and Hope went home with only the sweet sense of success +stirring at her heart,--a success unalloyed by any new bitterness. She +had not needed a shield against tormentors. Thursday and Friday were +equally pleasant and fairly profitable. Saturday would, of course, be +the best day of all, and bring her sales up to almost if not quite the +desired amount. But she dreaded Saturday, for she was quite sure that +"that girl" would be at the station, and she could not help keeping a +nervous look-out from the moment she took her stand in her chosen +corner. The 12.35, the 1, and the 1.15 trains, however, went in, and +Dolly was not to be seen. If she was not on the 1.40 train, there was +little danger, Hope thought, that she would be there at all, for the +1.40 was the last early afternoon train. The next was 3.30, and Hope +would be back at Riverview by that time, preparing another stock of +flowers for her 5.30 sale. Just before the 1.40 steamed in, Hope heard a +gay chatter of voices. There she was! But no; a glance at the party +sufficed to show that Dolly Dering was not one of the party, and Hope +drew a deep breath of relief. The week would end without further +annoyance, and with _such_ a heap of bright silver pieces. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +Forgetful of everything disagreeable, Hope stood in her corner for the +last time, softly humming the sweet little strain she had heard from the +good little fiddle. She was earlier than usual,--ten, fifteen minutes +earlier. "Tum, tum, ti tum," she was softly humming, when-- + +"Do you stay here all day?" asked a clear, confident voice. She turned +her head, and there stood that girl,--Dolly Dering. + +"No," answered Hope, politely, to this question, but with a coldness and +distance of manner that was meant to check all further questioning. But +Dolly Dering wasn't easily checked. + +"My sister says that you live in Riverview, and that you get your +flowers in Riverview woods," was her next questioning remark. + +"Yes." + +"What other kinds of flowers are you going to sell when these arbutus +are gone?" + +"I'm not going to sell any." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I--I don't want to." + +"I should think you would. You must make a lot of money." + +No answer. + +"To be sure, I don't suppose you'd make so much with garden flowers, but +there are ever so many kinds of wild flowers coming on by and by, aren't +there?" + +"I suppose so." + +"Perhaps you go to school, do you?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! and this is vacation week at the public schools; that's why you can +be here. I see. What you earn must be a great help, isn't it?" + +Hope's patience and dignity were giving way. She looked up with a fiery +glance. + +"A great help in what?" she asked. + +"Why, why, in your home, you know,--in buying bread and things,--you +know what I mean." + +"Yes, I know what you mean," burst forth Hope. "You mean that you think +because I am selling flowers here in the station that I belong to poor +people, who live anyhow,--poor, ignorant people, who are helped by the +missions and the unions,--poor, ignorant people like those at the North +End." + +Dolly Dering stared with all her might at the flushed, excited face +before her. + +"Why--why--you _are_ poor, aren't you, or you wouldn't be selling things +like this?" she blunderingly asked. + +Hope, in her turn, stared back at Dolly. Then in a vehement, exasperated +tone, she said,-- + +"I didn't think anybody _could_ be so ignorant as you are." + +"I! ignorant! well!" exclaimed Dolly, in astonishment and rising +resentment. + +"Yes, ignorant," went on Hope, recklessly, "or you'd know more about the +difference in people. You'd _see_ the difference. You'd see that I +didn't belong to the kind of poor folks who live any way and anyhow. My +father is John Benham, an engineer on this road, and we have a nice +home, and plenty to eat and drink and to wear,--and books and magazines +and papers," she added, with a sudden instinct that these were the most +convincing proofs of the comfort and respectability of her home. + +"What do you sell flowers on the street for, then, if you are as nice as +all that?" cried Dolly, now thoroughly aroused by Hope's words and +manner. + +"Because I wanted to buy something for myself that my father couldn't +afford to buy. Don't you ever want anything that your father doesn't +feel as if he could buy for you just when you wanted him to?" + +"Well, if I did, I shouldn't be let to go out on the street and peddle +flowers to earn the money," replied Dolly, with what she meant to be +withering emphasis. + +"And I shouldn't be _allowed_ to say 'let to go,' like ignorant North +Enders," retorted Hope, with still more withering emphasis. + +Dolly reddened with mortification and anger; then she said haughtily, "I +don't happen to know as much as you seem to, how ignorant North Enders +talk." + +"No; I told you that you were ignorant, and didn't know the difference +between people." + +"How dare you talk like this to me! You are the most impudent girl I +ever saw," cried Dolly, passionately. + +"Impudent! How did _you_ dare to speak to me as you did,--to ask me +questions? You didn't know me; you never saw me before. You wouldn't +have dared to speak to a girl that you thought was like yourself. But +you thought you could speak to _me_. You needn't be polite to a girl who +was selling things on the street." + +Hope stopped breathless. Her lips were dry; her heart was beating in +hard, quick throbs. As for Dolly she was for the moment silenced, for +Hope had divined the exact state of her mind. Other things, too, had +silenced Dolly for the moment, and these were the evidences of +respectability that Hope had enumerated. She was also faced by these +evidences in Hope's speech and manner, as those fiery but not vulgar +words were poured forth from the dry, tremulous lips; and the effect had +been confusing and disturbing to those fixed ideas about working-people +that had taken root in her--Dolly's--mind. She was not a bad girl at +heart, was this Dolly. She was like a great many people without keen +perception or sensibility, and thoughtless from this very lack. The +youngest of a prosperous family, she had been petted and pampered until +her natural wilfulness and high spirits had made her heedless and +over-confident. She had not meant to insult Hope. She had meant simply +to satisfy her curiosity; and she thought that it was a perfectly proper +thing to satisfy this curiosity about a poor girl who sold flowers on +the street, by asking this girl plain questions, such as she had heard +her mother ask the poor people who came to get work or to beg. But +Hope's plain answers had at first astonished, then angered, then +enlightened her. + +In the little breathless pause that followed Hope's last words, the two +girls regarded each other with a strange mixture of feeling. Hope's +feeling was that of relief tinctured with triumph, for she saw that she +had made an impression upon "that ignorant girl." Dolly, humiliated but +not humble, had a queer struggle with her temper and her sense of +justice. She had been made to see that she was partly, if not wholly, in +the wrong, and that she had wounded Hope to the quick. In another minute +she would have blunderingly made some admission of this,--have said to +Hope that she was sorry if she had hurt her feelings, or something to +that effect,--if Hope herself had not suddenly remarked in a tone of +cold dislike,-- + +"If you are waiting to ask any more questions, I might as well tell you +it's of no use. I sha'n't answer any more; so if you'll please to go +away from this corner and stop staring at me, I shall be much obliged to +you." + +Scarlet with anger, all her better impulses scattered to the winds, +Dolly flashed out,-- + +"You're an ugly, impudent, hateful thing, and I don't care if I _have_ +hurt your feelings, so there!" + +It happened that John Benham had exchanged his hours of work for that +day with a fellow engineer on the 5.30 train that came out from Boston. +Dolly, watching the train as it came to a stop at the Brookside station, +saw something that interested her greatly. It was an exchange of glances +between that "ugly, impudent, hateful thing" and the engineer, as he +stood in his cab. + +"So that is her father, is it,--that smutty workman! She'd better set +herself up and talk about her nice home!" was Dolly's inward comment out +of the wrath that was raging within her. + +"What is the matter with Dolly?" asked Mr. Dering, fifteen minutes +later, as Dolly, red and pouting, and with a fierce little frown +wrinkling her forehead, sat in unusual silence beside him on the front +seat of the carriage. Matter? and Dolly, finding her tongue, poured +forth the story of her grievance. With all her faults, Dolly was not +deceitful or untruthful; and the story she told was remarkably exact, +neither glossing over her own words, nor her humiliating defeat through +Hope's cleverness of speech. + +Mr. Dering seemed to find the whole story very amusing, and at the end +of it laughingly remarked: "I don't think you had the best of it, +Dolly." + +Her mother, from the back seat, was mortified and shocked that Dolly +should have been so vulgar as to quarrel on the street. + +"But Dolly began it by asking such questions," spoke up Mary Dering. +"Dolly is such a rattler. I'm sure that flower-girl would never have +spoken to her first." + +Then Mrs. Dering wanted to know what Mary knew about "that flower-girl," +and Mary described Hope as she had seen her. + +"She said her father was an engineer on this road, did she?" asked Mr. +Dering, turning to Dolly. + +"Yes, papa." + +"It must be John Benham. He is one of the best engineers on this +road,"--Mr. Dering was one of the Directors of the road,--"yes, it must +be Benham. I should think he might have just such a child as that." + +"Why, papa?" asked Mary Dering, leaning forward. + +"Well, because he's a proud sort of fellow, rather short of speech; +doesn't give or take any familiar words. But he's an excellent engineer, +excellent, and is full of intelligent ideas. He saved the road from +quite a loss last year by a suggestion of his. He's always tinkering, +I've been told, on one or another of these ideas,--has quite an +inventive faculty, I believe; and some of these days I suppose he hopes, +as so many of these fellows do, to make a fortune out of some invention. +Hey, what do you say to that, Dolly?" turning from this graver talk, and +pulling one of Dolly's black locks. "What do you say to your impudent +little girl turning into a millionaire's daughter one of these days?" + +"I'd say 'Ten cents a bunch' to her!" cried Dolly, vindictively. + +Mr. Dering flung back his head, and laughed. + +"Do you _really_ think he may make a fortune in that way?" asked Mary, +interestedly. + +"Well, no; really I don't, Mary," her father replied. "Such things don't +happen very frequently. Most skilled mechanics, like Benham, make +inventive experiments in their peculiar line, but it's only one in a +thousand who is a genius at that sort of thing, and produces anything +remarkable or valuable enough to bring them a fortune. Benham is a +clever, industrious fellow, but he isn't a genius; so we won't make a +hero for a story out of him, my dear." And Mr. Dering nodded with a +smile at Mary,--a smile that brought a blush to Mary's cheek, for she +knew that papa was making fun of what he called her sentimentality. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +Almost at the very moment that Mr. Dering was asking Dolly what was the +matter, John Benham, speeding along in his cab, was mentally asking the +same question in regard to Hope; for, as he caught that glimpse of her +as the train stopped, he saw at once that something was amiss. There was +a strained, excited look about her eyes, and a hot, uncomfortable color +in her cheeks. Had any one been troubling her? His own color rose at the +thought. Why had he allowed her to take such a position? But, thank +Heaven, this was the last night. Two hours after this he put the +question to Hope in words. What was the matter? + +Hope had not meant to tell. She would be brave and keep her annoyance to +herself. But the suddenness of the question broke down her defences, and +she burst into tears. + +"My dear, my dear, what is it? Who is it that has been troubling you? +There, there!" taking her in his arms, "have your cry out, then tell +father all about it." + +Hope was to the full as honest and truthful as Dolly, and her story was +as exact; but she did not, for she could not, do full justice to Dolly, +from the fact that she had not caught the faintest idea of that good +impulse that she herself had nipped in the bud; and without this impulse +Dolly's share in the story looked pretty black, and John Benham, as he +listened to it, did not laugh, as Mr. Dering had done. It was not +amusing to him to hear how his sweet little daughter had been hurt by +all that impertinent questioning. He saw better than Hope that the +impertinence was not malice, and that the ignorance it proceeded from +was that old ignorance that comes from the selfishness that is born of +long-continued prosperity. In trying to convey something of this to +Hope, and to show her that she must not let her mind get poisoned by +dwelling too much upon the matter, he said,-- + +"Try to put it out of your mind by thinking of something else." + +Hope lifted her head, and a faint smile irradiated her face. + +"I'll push it out with the good little fiddle," she answered. + +"That's my brave little woman!" + +That very night Hope carried her resolve into action by going over to +see Mr. Kolb to arrange for the purchase of the violin. She had told him +at the first, of the shop where she had seen the instrument that had +taken her fancy, and of her flower-selling plan to buy it. + +"Yes, yes; it was a very good shop," he had told her, and the plan was a +very good plan, and some day he would go with her to look at the little +fiddle. + +He was quite astonished, however, when, on Saturday night, she ran in to +tell him that her plan had succeeded so well that she wanted him to go +with her on Monday afternoon to buy the little fiddle. + +"What! you haf all the money?" he asked incredulously. + +"Yes; I earned all but two dollars, and that my father gave me." + +The old German threw out his hands with a gesture of surprise. "Ah! you +little American maedchen," he cried, "you do anything!" + +But when, on Monday afternoon, the two set out on their errand, Hope +began to have a misgiving. Perhaps she had made a mistake. Perhaps, +after all, it wasn't a good little fiddle, and she looked anxiously at +Mr. Kolb when he entered the shop with her, and took the instrument in +his hands, for Mr. Kolb would know all about it. And Mr. Kolb _did_ know +all about it. He knew at the first sight of it; and when he lifted the +bow and drew it across the strings, his eyes were smiling with +approbation. + +[Illustration: "HE LIFTED THE BOW AND DREW IT ACROSS THE STRINGS"] + +"A good fiddle! ach! it is a peautiful little fiddle!" he exclaimed, as +he ceased playing. Then he complimented Hope by saying: "You haf the +musical eye, as well as ear, Maedchen, to put your heart on this little +fiddle, and we shall haf so good a time, you and I, learning to play +it." + +That night, just after supper, Hope took her first lesson. As she tucked +the little fiddle under her chin, and drew the bow uncertainly and +awkwardly across the strings, her heart beat, and her eyes filled with +joyous tears. The little fiddle for the time quite pushed Dolly Dering +and everything connected with her out of her mind. + +While she was thus happily occupied, her father was busily engaged with +what looked like a toy engine. He was tinkering over one of those ideas +of his, that Mr. Dering had spoken of. This particular idea was +something connected with the speed of the locomotive and the economy of +fuel at one and the same time. Two years before, certain improvements in +this direction had been made, but they were not fully successful, +because they did not combine harmoniously,--what was gained in one +direction being partially lost in another. John Benham's idea was to +invent something that should combine so harmoniously that a high rate of +speed could be attainable with a minimum of fuel. + +When he first started to work out this idea, he was quite confident that +he could carry it through to success; but he had been at it now for +months, and the harmonious combination still evaded him. What was it? +What had he missed? Over and over again he would ask himself this +question, and over and over again he would add here or take away there, +and all without achieving the result he desired. So many failures had at +length beaten down his courageous confidence not a little, and he had +begun to think that he must be on the wrong track altogether, and might +as well give up the whole thing. + +He was thinking this very strongly that Monday night when he sat in his +workshop,--a long, low room he had arranged for himself at the end of +the house. The night was warm for the season, and through the open +doorway he could hear the quavering, uncertain scraping of the little +fiddle. + +"Dear little soul!" he thought; "I hope this good time is paying her for +that bad time of hers." + +If he could only have known how thoroughly it was "paying her,"--that at +that moment the bad time was pushed completely out of mind by the good +time! He hoped that she was comforted; that was the most that he +expected. For himself, nothing had put the story she had told him out of +his mind; and while he sat there adjusting and readjusting the little +model, it was half mechanically,--his thought being more occupied with +his child's painful little experience, and all that it suggested to him. +He was not a bitter or a violent man. He did not think that the poor +were always in the right, and the rich always in the wrong in their +relations with each other, as a good many working-people do. No; he was +too intelligent for that. But what he did think, what he _knew_ was, +that the rich were not hampered and hindered by the daily struggle for +existence, for the means to procure food and clothing and shelter from +week to week. He knew that his own abilities were hindered and hampered +by the necessity that compelled him to work almost incessantly for the +necessaries of life. If he could have had only a little of the leisure +of the rich, a little of their money, he could have had constantly at +his hand, not merely the books that he needed, and the time to study +them, but various other ways and opportunities would have been open to +him to follow out his strong taste for mechanical construction. As it +was, he had been obliged to grope along slowly, working at odd times +after his labor of the day, and generally at some disadvantage, either +in the lack of proper tools, or needed books of reference directly at +his hand. All these thoughts bore down upon him that night with greater +force than usual, because of Hope's story; for here it was again in +another direction, that difference between the rich and the poor. And +while he thought these thoughts, scrape, scrape, went Hope's bow across +the strings. + +"Do you hear that, John?" asked Mrs. Benham as she came into the +workshop. + +"Yes, I've been listening to it for some time." There was an absent +expression in John Benham's eyes, as he glanced up. His wife noticed it. + +"You look tired, John. I wouldn't bother over that"--with a nod at the +engine model--"any more." + +"No; I've about made up my mind to give it up. I don't seem to be on the +right track with it, anyhow." + +There was a depressed, discouraged note in the husband's voice that his +wife at once detected. It was a new note for her to hear in that voice. +She regarded him anxiously a moment, and then, smiling, but with a good +deal of real earnestness, said,-- + +"Don't fret about it, John. Hope, maybe, 'll make all our fortunes yet. +Mr. Kolb told me that she had a wonderful ear for music, and would be a +fine performer some day." + +"Fortunes! 't isn't money only, Martha; I hate to give up a thing like +this. I felt so sure of myself when I started; and--and--it is failure, +you see; and failure is harder to bear than the hardest kind of labor. +I've always thought, you know, that I was cut out for this sort of +thing,--this inventive business,--but it looks as though I had been more +conceited than anything else, doesn't it?" + +"No, no; it doesn't, John. Your worst enemy couldn't say that you were +conceited. But you've had so little chance, so little time; that's +what's the trouble. But you haven't come to the end yet, and I didn't +mean that I wanted you to give up trying. I only meant that I wouldn't +bother over _that_. You must start something new; that's all I meant, +John," cried Mrs. Benham, full of affectionate sympathy and repentance. + +"Oh! I understand, Martha; I understand. What you said didn't discourage +me. I dare say I shall tinker away at something again by and by; but +_this_ thing"--striking the model a little blow with his hand--"is a +failure." + +At that moment the door-bell rang, and Mrs. Benham hurried away to +answer its summons. Left alone, her husband stretched out his hand +towards the model, and opened the door of its fire-box. There was still +a tiny bed of coals there. + +"We'll have a last run," he said, with a half-smile; and opening the +steam-valve, he saw the beautiful little model start once more on its +way along the rails he had laid for it upon the work-bench that ran +around the room. As he had constructed a self-acting pressure that +should close the steam-valve at a certain point, the model was under as +perfect control from where he stood as if it were of larger proportions, +and he were managing and directing it from its engine cab. A look of +pride, followed by an expression of sadness, flickered over the +builder's face, as he watched it. Where _had_ he failed? + +Round and round the course the pretty thing sped, not at any headlong +speed, but at the pace that had been set for it, to prove or disprove +the effectiveness of the combination. Click, click, how smoothly it ran! +everything apparently perfect, from the wheels to the wire-netted flues. +If only--But what--what is that? and John Benham starts forward with +sudden eager attention. His quick ear has caught a slight sound that he +had not heard before, so slight that only _his_ ear would have detected +it. The machine was on its finishing round; three seconds more, and the +self-acting steam-valve has shut, the engine slows up to a stop, and its +builder, with a quickened pulse, bends eagerly forward. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Perhaps it is five minutes later that the wife opens the door again. +"John, who do you think has just called?" She receives no answer. "Dear +me!" she says vexedly to herself, "he's worrying at that machine again. +I wish he'd give it up. John!" Still no answer. Mrs. Benham walks into +the room. "John, I wish--" But as she catches sight of her husband's +face, which is pale, and changed by some strong feeling, she forgets +what she was about to say, and exclaims in a troubled tone, "What is it? +What is the matter, John?" + +He starts and turns to her. Matter? A half-smile stirs his lips, and he +points to the engine without another word. + +Mrs. Benham is frightened. She thinks to herself: "This constant worry +over that thing is turning his head; he will lose his mind. Oh, John!" +she cries, "if you would only come away and rest and give this up, if +only for a little while! I--I--" and poor Mrs. Benham's voice breaks, +and the tears rush to her eyes. + +"Martha, Martha, you don't understand. My worry is all over,--all over. +The thing is a success,--a success, Martha, and not a failure!" + +"What--why--when I went out--" + +"When you went out a while ago, I'd given it up, and I thought I'd say +good-bye to it in a last run, and on that run I heard a new sound. Look +here, Martha, do you see that link in the valve gearing? I thought I had +taken every pains to suspend it properly. Well, it seems I hadn't. I +suspended it in the usual way, and it worked in the usual way; but it +turns out that wasn't the way to work with my new injector, and there is +where the hitch was. Do you remember when I brought my hand down on the +machine when we were talking? I must have displaced this delicate little +bolt or pin that you see here, at that blow, and in that way put the +link--it is what is called a shifting link--into the right position to +work my injector combination. This little change of position makes +everything clear as daylight, and I can put this little beauty into fine +shape now; fasten the bolts and pins permanently instead of temporarily, +for I don't need any more changes. It will do its double work of speed +and fuel-saving every time; for see there!"--and the exultant builder +pointed to some almost infinitesimal figures in two different portions +of the engine. They were the registers that proved the result of this +last triumphant run, and the complete success of his invention. + +The tears were still in Mrs. Benham's eyes, but they were tears of joy. +"It seems too good to be true," she faltered. + +"And I thought the other thing--the failure--too bad to be true," he +returned. Then smiling a little, "I shall name it 'Hope,'" he said. + +"And it is Hope that will make our fortunes, after all; for this will +make a fortune, won't it, John?" inquired Mrs. Benham, looking up into +her husband's face eagerly. But he didn't hear her. His thoughts had +gone back to that valve gearing, and the link that had been so happily +put in place. + +She touched his arm, and repeated her question. + +"Fortune?" He turned from his loving contemplation of the thing that he +had builded. It seemed almost human to him. "Fortune,--I don't know," he +answered absently. + +Mrs. Benham did not repeat her question again. She saw, as she glanced +at her husband's face, that it would be of no use, for she saw that just +for the present he was all absorbed in the delight that had come to him, +in the successful accomplishment of his undertaking. This was joy enough +for him at the moment. He had often said to her when she had advised him +not to tire himself out pottering over things that might not bring him a +penny, that he loved the work for itself, independent of anything else. +And it was the work that he was thinking of now, not the possible +financial results. But by and by--and Mrs. Benham's thoughts went +wandering off into that by and by, when these results would take +tangible form. Her ideas, however, were extremely modest. This fortune +that she had in her mind, that she saw before her at that instant, was +very limited. Harry Richards, an old friend of her husband's, had made a +comfortable little sum out of an improvement upon car-window fastenings, +and it was some such comfortable little sum that Mrs. Benham was +thinking of. A little sum that would be sufficient, perhaps, to pay at +once what mortgage there was still left upon their little home, to buy a +new carpet for the parlor, and the books her husband needed, and to give +Hope all the instruction she wanted upon the violin, from Mr. Kolb, or +any other teacher, at the teacher's price. + +Just at this point of her thought, a quick, flying step was heard, and a +quick, humming voice,--a little sweet, thready sound, as near like a +violin tone as the owner could make it,--and the next minute Hope +appeared in the workshop rosy and radiant. + +"Mr. Kolb says," she broke out, dropping her humming violin note, "that +I shall make a very good little fiddler some day if I 'haf patience,'" +gayly imitating the old German's pronunciation. "He says--" But +something in her father's absorbed attitude, in her mother's expression, +stopped her. "What is it? what has happened?" she inquired, looking from +one to the other. + +"Your father has got the little engine all right." + +"It does just what he wanted it to do?" asked Hope, eagerly. + +"Yes, just what he wanted it to do." + +Hope danced about the room, humming her little thready violin note. Her +father, roused from his reverie, looked up at her, and smiled. + +"Well, Hope, the little fiddle was a success, eh?" + +"And the little engine too;" and the girl danced up to her father, +humming her note of gladness. + +"Yes, the little engine too." + +Mrs. Benham, looking across the work-bench at her husband and daughter, +nodded and laughed at them. + +"You're just alike,--you two," she said. "There's nothing now but the +little engine and the little fiddle. But how does it happen, Hope, that +Mr. Kolb could give you such a long lesson? Didn't he go in to play at +the concert to-night?" + +"No; he has a cold, and his nephew, Karl, is to take his place. It is +Karl, you know, who teaches at the Conservatory; and Mr. Kolb says that +some time, when he gets too old and rheumatic to go out in the evening, +he may give up orchestra-playing altogether, and take to teaching like +Karl." + +"Well, he'll have to get more profitable pupils than Hope Benham in that +case," said Mrs. Benham, laughingly. + +"Mother, do you think--is it taking too much--from--" + +"No, no, Hope," interrupted her mother. "I don't think anything of the +kind. Mr. Kolb meant what he said when he told you he'd like to give you +lessons. Don't you fret about that; father will pay him some time." + +"Perhaps _I'll_ pay him when--" But Mrs. Benham did not stop to hear the +end of her daughter's sentence. A patter of rain-drops caught her ear, +and she hurried away to close the upper windows. Hope turned to her +father with her new idea; she was aglow with it. + +"Farver," she began, using her old baby pronunciation, as she was in the +habit of doing now and then,--"Farver, Mr. Kolb says if I practise hard, +I may get to play the little fiddle at a concert some day, and earn +money, and then--then, I shall pay Mr. Kolb for teaching me, farver." + +"Oh! that is your plan? Hope, the little fiddle has done a good work +already. It has pushed all that bad time out of your mind, hasn't it?" + +"Yes, yes, it has pushed it away--away--oh! ever so much further; but, +farver," and Hope put her head down on her father's shoulder, +"I--I--don't ever want to see that girl again." + +"Yes, father knows;" and drawing her closer to him, John Benham stroked +his daughter's sleek brown head with a soft caressing touch. + +And father _did_ know. He knew that the little daughter was having her +first experience of the world, and the way it made its separations, its +class distinctions between rich and poor and high and low. He was not +envious or jealous or bitter, but he was very observant and thoughtful, +and he could not help seeing how ignorantly made were some of these +distinctions, and how unchristian. He knew that his little Hope was +intelligent and refined,--the fit companion for any refined child, +however placed in the world; and he knew that he himself was a fit +companion for intelligent, thoughtful men, however placed,--for, though +obliged to be a hard worker since he came a boy of fifteen from his +father's farm, he had found time to think and read and study, and he was +conscious that he had read and studied and thought to some purpose, and +that his thought was worth something; yet because of this way that the +world had of separating people without regard to their real natures or +their real tastes, but solely in regard to the accidents of poverty or +family influence, he was debarred from acquaintanceship on true, equal +terms with many who would naturally have been his companions and +friends, and whose companionship would have been of service to him, as +his would have been of service to them, from the different knowledge +that had come to each, from their different experiences. And here was +Hope--he looked down at her as his thoughts came to this point--here was +Hope, his cherished little daughter, so fine, so sweet. Was that girl of +the world's so-called higher class, whose blunt speech had hurt so +deeply,--was _she_ a fit companion for his little daughter? + +He bent down and put his lips to the sleek brown head, as he asked this +question. Then he saw that the child was asleep; but his movement roused +her, and, stirring uneasily, she murmured in her dreams, "Ten cents a +bunch!" then, half awakening, cried, "Farver, farver, I don't ever want +to see that girl again." + +"No, no, you sha'n't. It's all over, dear. We're not going to have any +more of that 'Ten cents a bunch!'--never any more of it," he repeated +consolingly, but with an emphasis of indignation and self-reproach. + +But he was mistaken. Neither he nor Hope had heard the last of that "Ten +cents a bunch!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +To be a pupil in Miss Marr's school was a distinction in itself. "Why +don't you give and write your name 'Mademoiselle Marr,' as you have a +right to do?" asked one of Miss Marr's acquaintances, when the school +was first started. + +Miss Marr laughed; then she answered soberly, "When my father came to +America, he made himself a legal citizen of the country and he fought in +its battles. He never called himself, and he was never called by any +one, 'Monsieur.'" + +"Because he bore the title of General." + +"Not at first,--not until he had earned it here. But I--I was born and +brought up here, and I have been always Miss Marr here. Why should I now +suddenly change to Mademoiselle?" + +"Because it would be of benefit to your school. Americans are attracted +by anything foreign, and Mademoiselle Marr's school would sound so much +more distinguished than Miss Marr's school." + +"Oh!" and Miss Marr flung up her hands impatiently; "I am a better +American than these foolish people who like foreign titles so much. But +they shall come to me, they shall send their children to Miss Marr's +school. I am not going to begin with any little tricks,--to throw out +any little bait to catch silly folk, for it is not such folk's patronage +that I want. I am going to keep an honest school, and I shall start as I +mean to go on." + +The acquaintance sighed, and shook her head, and told all her friends +how obstinate Miss Marr was, how she had been advised and how she had +gone against the advice, and that the school wouldn't come to anything, +would get no start as Miss Marr's school, whereas as Mademoiselle Marr's +it would at once impress everybody. + +But Miss Marr went on in her own way, and at the end of five years there +was no school in all New York that had the kind of high reputation that +hers had. It was, in a certain sense, the fashion, and yet it was not +fashionable. + +"It's that French way of hers, after all," said the acquaintance whose +advice had not been taken; "it's that French way that she inherited from +the General. Nobody had finer manners than General Marr, and he had the +qualities of a leader, too, in some ways,--though he never could keep +any money; and these qualities also his daughter inherits." + +Miss Marr laughed at this explanation when she was told of it,--laughed, +and declared that the only secret of her success lay in the fact that +she liked her work, and put her whole heart into it. And I'm inclined to +think she was right. If she got a start at first because she was General +Marr's daughter, she held it and made much of it because she had +character and purpose. She put her heart into her work, and that meant +that she put the magic of her lively sympathy and interest into it; and +if she had not possessed this character and purpose, she couldn't have +done what she did, even if she had been the daughter of an even more +distinguished man than General Marr. She had said in the beginning: "I +am not going to model my school after any fashionable pattern, for I +don't care to have what is called a fashionable school, and I don't +solicit fashionable patronage. There are plenty of quiet, cultivated +people in New York and elsewhere who, I am sure, want just such a school +as I mean to have,--a sensible, honest school, that shall give a +sensible, honest, all-round education." And she was right, as events +proved. The quiet, cultivated people came forth at once to her support; +and then the queerest thing happened,--the fashionable folk began to +come forward too, and in such numbers that she couldn't accommodate half +of them, and they, instead of accepting the situation, and going +elsewhere at this crisis, patiently bided their time, waiting until a +vacancy occurred. It will readily be understood that when things had +come to this pass, it was considered a most decided distinction to be a +pupil at Miss Marr's school. + +It was just at the climax of this popularity, just before the beginning +of a new year, that a certain young lady said to her younger sister,-- + +"Now, Dorothy"-- + +"Doro_thea_! Doro_thea_! I'm going to have my whole name, every syllable +of it, to start off in New York with." + +"Well, Dorothea, then; you must remember one thing about Miss Marr,--she +won't put up with any of your flippant smartness." + + +"She needn't." + +"But, Dorothea, you won't be punished, and you won't be allowed to +argue, as you did at Miss Maynard's. It will be like this,--Miss Marr +will let you go on and reveal yourself and all your faults without a +word of comment, as she would if you were a guest; then if she finds +that you or your faults are of the kind that she doesn't care to have in +her school, she'll send you home. She says, you know, that her school is +neither an infant school, nor a reform school,--that by the time girls +are fifteen, they are young ladies enough to have some idea of good +breeding, and if they haven't, they are not the sort of girls that she +wants in her school. Now remember that, Dorothea." + +"I never heard of a school-teacher putting on such airs as this Miss +Marr does, in my life. It's always what _she_ wants, what _she_ expects, +what _she_ is going to do. I know I shall hate her!" + +"Well, if this is the spirit that you propose to start with, it is very +easy to foresee the result." + +"I don't care." + +"Now, Dorothea, you _do_ care. Just think--your name has been on the +list for a whole year for this vacancy; and it was your own idea, you +know. Nothing would satisfy you but to go to Miss Marr's." + +"Oh, I know, I know; don't preach, you dear Molly Polly! I'm not going +to fly at Miss Marr and call her an old cat, if I think she's one." + +"No, I should say not, but you mustn't fly at a good many things,--at +certain rules and regulations, for instance,--and you mustn't take any +saucy little liberties, such as you have been in the habit of taking at +Miss Maynard's." + +"Oh, not a liberty!" smiling and nodding at her elder sister. "I shall +pull my face down like this"--drawing down her lips and lowering her +eyes--"when I meet the great Miss Marr, and I shall say, in a little bit +of a frightened voice like this, 'Oh, Miss Marr, Miss Marr, _please_ +don't shut me up in a dark closet and put me on bread and water, +whatever I do.'" + +"What a goose you are, Dorothy!" but the elder sister laughed. + +"Doro_thea_! Doro_thea_! remember now it's to be Doro_thea_, and you +must write Doro_thea_ on the envelopes of your letters to me," was the +swift protest. + +Three days after this conversation, Dolly, or Dorothea Dering, sat +waiting with her mother in a handsome but rather old-fashioned-looking +parlor in a rather old-fashioned house in New York, for the appearance +of its hostess, Miss Marr. Dolly had been fidgeting about, examining the +ornaments on the tables and the pictures on the walls, with a mingled +expression of curiosity and irritability on her face, when she caught +the sound of a firm even footfall on the polished oak floor of the hall. +The girl made a little face at this firm, even sound, and said to +herself, "It's just like her,--old Madam Prim!" + +In another moment the footsteps came to the threshold of the parlor, and +Dolly looked across the room to see--Why, there was some mistake! This +was one of the pupils, and no Madam Prim; and what a stylish girl, what +a stunning plain gown! thought Dolly. The minute after, "the stylish +girl in the stunning plain gown" was saying, "How do you do, Mrs. +Dering?" and Mrs. Dering was saying, "How do you do, Miss Marr?" + +Dolly almost gasped with astonishment. "_This_, Miss Marr! Why, she +didn't look any older than Mary." + +The fact was, that Miss Marr was seven years older than Mary Dering, who +was only twenty-three; but Angelique Marr was one of those persons who +never look their age. Though not childish or immature, she had a fresh +girl's aspect. In looking at her, Dolly forgot all her little plans for +saying or doing this or that. Miss Marr looking at _her_ said to +herself: "Poor child! how shy and awkward and overgrown she is!" and +forthwith concluded that it would be better not to notice her much for a +time, and therefore gave all her attention to the mother, bestowing a +swift fleeting smile now and then upon the girl,--a _young_ smile, like +that of a comrade in passing. Dolly was out of all her reckoning; her +program of word and action which she had so carefully arranged being +completely destroyed by this surprise of personality,--this substitution +of the "stylish girl in a stunning plain gown" for an old Madam Prim. So +absorbed was she in these thoughts, she heard but vaguely what her +mother was saying, and was quite startled when the moment of parting +from her came, forgetting all the fine little airs and good-bye messages +she had arranged. She was so dazed, indeed, that she seemed stupid, and +impressed Miss Marr more than ever as shy and awkward and overgrown; and +it was out of pity for this shyness that Angelique Marr, as the door +closed upon Mrs. Dering, turned to Mrs. Dering's daughter with her +sweetest and friendliest of young smiles, and said to her,-- + +"Would you like to come up to my little parlor and have a cup of +chocolate with me before I show you your room?" + +As Dolly accepted the invitation, she had an odd subdued sort of +feeling, as if she had been invited to lunch with one of Mary's fine +young lady friends; and this feeling, instead of wearing off, increased, +as she found herself in the little parlor drinking the most delicious +foamy chocolate from a delicate Sevres cup, while her entertainer helped +her to biscuit or extra lumps of sugar, telling, as she did so, a droll +little story about her first lesson in chocolate brewing from an old +French soldier,--a friend of her father. + +Dolly listened and laughed, and felt more and more that she was being +treated in a very grown-up way by a very grown-up young lady, and that +she must be equal to the occasion; so she sat up in her chair with a +great deal of dignity, and endeavored to say the proper things in the +proper places, with a delightful sense that she was doing the thing as +well as Mary. It was at this moment that some one knocked at the door; +and at Miss Marr's "Come in," there appeared a tall youth, who cried out +as he entered,-- + +"Well, Aunt Angel!" + +"What! Victor?" + + +Then followed embraces and inquiries; and Dolly began to feel out of +place, and the stranger that she was, when Miss Marr turned, smiled, +begged her pardon, and introduced her to her nephew,--Victor Graham, who +was just back from his vacation at Moosehead Lake. With the grace and +tact that people called "that French way" of hers, Miss Marr managed to +include Dolly in the conversation, and, finding that she had spent +several summers at Kineo, the Moosehead Lake region, drew her out by +clever questions to tell what she knew about it. And Dolly knew a great +deal about it; she had paddled a canoe on the lake, she had caught fish +and helped cook them on the shore, and she had camped out in the Kineo +woods. + +Victor Graham, tall as he was, was only sixteen,--a real boy who loved +out-of-door sports,--and, delighted to find somebody who was so familiar +with the charmed region he had just reluctantly left, was soon in the +full swing of reminiscences and questions. Had she been to this place, +did she know that point, etc., etc.? In short, he felt as if he had met +a comrade, and he treated her as such,--as a boy like himself; and Dolly +for the moment responded in the same spirit, and forgot her stiff +dignity and young lady manners, patterned after her sister Mary's. + +Miss Marr sat back in her chair, looking and listening and smiling. +Dolly had not the least idea that she was reading, as one would read in +a book, a little page of Dorothea Dering. But she was. Dolly, in talking +to Victor, forgot, as I have said, her dignity and young-lady manners, +and was the Dolly Dering who romped and raced and paddled and cooked at +Moosehead Lake. + +"Not so very awkward, and not shy at all, but a big overgrown girl, who +may one day be an attractive woman, when she is toned down and less +crude and hoydenish." + +This was part of Miss Marr's reading as she looked and listened; and as +Dolly, getting more excited with her subject, went on more glibly, her +silent smiling listener thought,-- + +"A good deal of a spoiled child evidently, who has been used to having +her own way and been laughed at for her smart sayings until she is quite +capable, I fear, of being rude and overbearing, if not unfeeling on +occasions. But I think there is good material underneath. We'll see, +we'll see." + +What would Dolly have said if she could have heard this criticism of +Dorothea Dering? What would Mrs. Dering have said if she could have +heard her daughter called capable of being rude and overbearing? What +would Mary have said to the whole summing up,--Mary, who was not of the +kind ever to have been spoiled by indulgence, who was finer and had +better instincts than Dolly? Mary would have said, "Oh, Dolly, Dolly, +what have I always told you?" + +Just as Miss Marr came to the conclusion of these reflections, she +looked up at the clock on the mantel, and gave a quick start. Victor, +following the direction of her eyes, stopped the story of camp-life that +he was telling, and jumped to his feet, saying,-- + +"Do excuse me, Aunt Angel; I'd no idea it was so late." + +Dolly's face fell like a disappointed child, and she burst out +impatiently,-- + +"Oh, finish the story, finish the story!" + +Victor Graham gave her a glance of surprise; then, flushing a little, +said gently,-- + +"This is Aunt Angel's busy hour; I'll finish the story some other time." + +The blood mounted to Dolly's forehead. That glance of surprise pricked +her sharply. It angered her too. Who was this boy to set his priggish +manners above hers? And in hot rebellion, she cried out flippantly,-- + +"No, no, tell it now, tell it now! Ten minutes longer can't make much +difference." + +She had been accustomed to persist in this fashion at home; and beyond a +"Dolly, how impolite!" or "Be quiet, Dolly!" spoken at the moment by +father or mother or Mary, not much further notice was taken of her +offence. But neither Miss Marr nor Victor made the slightest suggestion +of a reproving comment now. They made no comment whatever. The boy +simply stared at her a second, then lowered his eyes, showing clearly +that he was embarrassed by the girl's rudeness. Miss Marr looked at her +with an expression of wondering astonishment that was in itself a shock +and a revelation to Dolly. There was not a particle of personal +resentment in this expression; it was the wondering astonishment of a +person who is regarding for the first time some strange new species of +development. Dolly had hitherto gloried in her impertinence, as +something witty and audacious. Now all at once she was made to see that +to another person, and that person this "stylish girl in a stunning +plain gown," this audacious impertinence looked vulgar. The shock of +this revelation was so sudden to Miss Dolly that all self-possession +deserted her, and again Miss Marr saw her apparently shy and awkward and +speechless. The deep red flush that overspread her face at the same time +added to the appearance of shyness, and pleaded for her more than words +would have done. + +"She'd be a jolly girl, if she didn't break up into such Hottentot ways. +I wonder where she came from?" was Victor's inward reflection. His +concluding reflection, as he went out of the house, was, "Wonder what +Aunt Angel will do with her." + +Aunt Angel wondered, too, as she accompanied Dolly up to the room that +had been arranged for her; and as she wondered, she could not help +thinking, "How glad I am the girl is going to have a room to herself, +and not with any one of the other girls!" + +The room was small, but it was charmingly furnished,--a little pink and +white chamber, with all sorts of pretty contrivances for comfort and +convenience. As Dolly looked about her, when Miss Marr closed the door +upon her, she thought of what her mother had said, after inspecting the +room the day before: "It isn't in the least like a boarding-school,--it +is like a visitor's room, Dolly, as you will see." + +And Dolly did see, but she was in no mood to enjoy the pretty details +just then, for the sense of humiliation was weighing heavily upon her. +In vain she tried to blow it away with the breath of anger,--to call +Miss Marr "old Madam Prim," and Victor "that prig of a boy." Nothing of +this kind availed to relieve her. Never in her life had she been so +impressed by anybody as by Miss Marr, and she was also sure that she had +also begun to impress Miss Marr, in her turn. And now and now!--and down +on the pink and white bed Dolly flung herself in a paroxysm of mingled +regret, rage, mortification, and disappointment, and, like the big, +overgrown, undisciplined child that she was, sobbed herself to sleep. + +The short October afternoon had come nearly to an end when she woke; and +she looked about her in dismay. It must be late; and, springing up, she +glanced at her watch. It was half-past four. At this moment she heard, +in the hall outside, a murmur of girls' voices. One called, "Miss Marr;" +and another said, "The Boston train was delayed, or I should have been +here earlier." + +Then followed a soft tinkle of laughter, a little tap of heels, and an +opening and shutting of doors. Dolly, listening, knew what this +meant,--knew that these girls were the late arrivals, the returning +pupils. + +"And they all know each other," she commented rather lonesomely and +enviously, "and I shall dress myself and get down before them. I'm not +going to enter a room full of strange girls, if I know it!" + +Dolly's taste was generally excellent. She knew what to wear and when to +wear it; but some mistaken idea of outshining those strange girls at the +start took possession of her, and instead of putting on a gown suited to +the occasion, she donned a fine affair,--a combination of old-rose +cashmere and velvet, with rose ribbons at her throat. As she left the +room in this finery, she saw a door farther down the hall open, and a +tall slender girl, dressed with the severest simplicity, come forth. + +One of those strange girls! And Dolly, as they met, stared at her, with +her head in the air. But the strange girl, with a matter of course +manner, gave a little courteous inclination of greeting as she passed, +whereat Dolly grew rather red. "I wonder if that is the girl who talked +about 'my train,'" thought Dolly. "I'll bet it is. She has a look like +that girl I saw one day last spring with the Edlicotts at Papanti's +dancing-school. I wonder what her name is." + +As the girl ran lightly down the stairs, one of the maids came up. Dolly +stopped her and asked, "Is that one of the pupils?" + +"Yes, miss." + +"What is her name?" + +"Miss Hope Benham." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +Miss Hope Benham! It was five years since Dolly's encounter with Hope in +the Brookside station, and four years since she had heard her or the +name of Benham referred to. This later reference was made by Mr. Dering +one morning at the breakfast-table. + +"Well, Dolly," he had suddenly said, glancing up from his newspaper, +"that little flower-girl who got the better of you last season is in +luck." + +Dolly looked up with a puzzled expression. + +"What! you've forgotten the little girl at the Brookside station who +told you how ignorant and bad-mannered you were?" + +"Oh, Ten-cents-a-bunch!" shouted Dolly. + +"Yes, little Ten-cents-a-bunch. Well, her father, the engineer, is on +the high road to fortune by a certain successful invention of his. Now, +what do you say to that?" + +"Ten-cents-a-bunch," repeated Dolly, laughing. + +"Oh, that Mr. Benham, the engineer you told us of last season?" asked +Mary, with interest. + +"Yes, that's the man. He has procured a patent on a valuable invention +of his, and is going to be a rich man by means of it. He's a much +cleverer fellow than I thought. I heard him speak the other night before +the Scientific Mechanics' Association, and it was a very intelligent +speech, full of scientific knowledge, and showing a great deal of +ability." + +"And last year, father, you laughed at me for asking you if he had this +ability." + +Mr. Dering shook his head with a comic smile. + +"Oh, well, Mary, we are all liable to mistakes. I've seen so much of +this inventive ambition that came to nothing, I've grown to be cautious +in my judgments." + +"Of course he isn't running an engine now?" + +"Bless you, no. He's off to Europe this month. He's made some contract +with a firm in France for the use of his invention. They had heard of it +through a former fellow-workman of Benham's,--another clever fellow, yet +not a genius like Benham, though he has gained for himself quite an +important position as an inspector of locomotives abroad; but there is +an account of the whole thing in the morning's paper." + +Dolly listened to this talk with a very divided attention. She had a big +picnic on her mind, and all other matters were of very little importance +beside that. It was thus that Ten-cents-a-bunch and the name of Benham +were quite overborne for the time by this interest. After four years +more of picnics and other pleasurings, Dolly heard the name again +without the slightest recognition, and in the tall young girl of +fifteen, with her womanly face and her hair wound into a knot +at the back of her head, she received no suggestion of little +Ten-cents-a-bunch. + +And how was it with Hope? Hope remembered. The last four years of her +life had been passed abroad, most of them in France, where she had been +at school in Paris, while her father and mother were established near +by,--her father taking advantage of the great opportunities Paris +offered him for scientific study. It was a happy time for all of them, +and in this happy time Hope forgot some earlier deprivations and +discomforts, or at least forgot the smart of them; but she never forgot +that encounter at the Brookside station, which was to her her first +close experience of the world's class distinctions. Neither had she ever +forgotten the face of "that girl;" and when, coming out of her room at +Miss Marr's, she looked down the hall and saw those big black eyes and +that confident expression, she at once, in spite of the change in +Dolly's height and breadth, recognized her. + +But the five years had matured and educated Hope so much that the thrill +which accompanied this recognition was not that shrinking of fear and +dislike which had once overcome her. It was now the ordinary pang of +repulsion that one feels in meeting something or somebody connected with +what was once painful; and there was an expression of this feeling in +her face, as she entered the library downstairs. Two or three girls were +already assembled there; and as Hope responded warmly to their +affectionate greetings, one of them exclaimed,-- + +"There! now you look like yourself. When you came in, you had a +stand-off sort of air, and a little hard pucker between your eyes, as if +you were expecting to confront an army of enemies." + +Hope laughed; and presently the whole group were off on a regular girl +chat, telling the story of their long summer vacation in the most +animated manner. They were in the thick of this, when some one pushed +the portiere aside, with the uncertain touch of a strange hand, and a +strange voice asked constrainedly,-- + +"Is this a private sitting-room?" + +The girls all turned to look at the speaker, and there was a half moment +of silence. Then Kate Van der Berg answered politely,-- + +"Oh, no; it is the library, where we all come when we like." + +"Oh, I didn't know where to go;" and Dolly came forward, trying to look +indifferent and at her ease, and succeeding only in looking rather huffy +and uncomfortable. The first glance she had received was not reassuring. +The four girls whose chat she had interrupted were all dressed in the +simplest manner, with no frills and furbelows anywhere; and that first +glance of theirs at the new-comer's fine gown was a glance of surprise +that there was no mistaking. The fact of it was, every girl of them, as +she caught sight of Dolly, supposed for the moment that she was a guest +of Miss Marr's; and when enlightened to the contrary by Dolly's own +words, every girl of them involuntarily gave another glance of surprise. + +They were well trained, however, and presently endeavored to make the +new pupil feel at home; but it was rather up-hill work naturally. +Luckily at this crisis, Miss Marr appeared, to adjust matters. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, glancing brightly at Dolly, "you found your way +down all alone. I went to your room a little while ago; and as you were +asleep, I didn't disturb you." + +Then, with the same bright look and manner, she introduced the girls to +Dolly, and stood talking with them all for a few minutes. When she +turned to leave them, a general protest arose, Kate Van der Berg crying +out,-- + +"Oh, no, no! don't go yet, Miss Marr! Just think, we haven't had a sight +of you for three months, and we are positively hungry for you, aren't +we, Hope?" appealing to Hope Benham, who was standing near her. + +Hope made no reply in words, but she gave a quick upward look and smile +which spoke more eloquently than any words. Dolly, observant of +everything, saw not only this look and smile, but the answering look and +smile in Miss Marr's eloquent face; and instantly a little sharp feeling +of something akin to both jealousy and envy disturbed her. Not to lead +off and take a first place was a new experience to Dolly, and she did +not enjoy it. At home in Brookside or Boston she had always easily led +off in this way, partly on account of her belonging to a family whose +acquaintance was large, and partly on account of her dominant desire. +But here she found herself for the first time amongst strangers, who +knew nothing about her, and to whom she was of no importance. An uneasy +sense of all this had begun to assail her before she left Miss Marr's +little parlor. It deepened as she entered the library and met the three +pairs of eyes turned upon her and her fine gown. It deepened still more +as she saw that swift exchange of tender glances between Miss Marr and +Hope; and the little imp of jealousy straightway sprang up with its +unreasonable suggestions that she was not treated with sufficient +consideration, that she was, in fact, neglected, and left out in the +cold, when she should, as the new-comer, have received assiduous +attention. That she, the daughter of the Hon. James Dering, should be +thus coolly set aside! It was at this climax of her resentful feeling +that Miss Marr happened to look across at her. She caught at once +something of the true state of things,--not everything, but enough to +show her that the girl felt awkward and uncomfortable. + +"Poor thing!" she thought; "she doesn't get on well at all. I must ask +Hope to help me with her. She, if anybody, will be able to make her feel +easier and more at home." + +There was no opportunity to speak with Hope then, for down the hall came +tap, tapping, another little company of heels, and presently the +portiere was flung aside, and a troop of girls entered, and rushing up +to Miss Marr, claimed her attention, with their gay and affectionate +greetings. No, no time then to speak to any one privately and specially, +only time to mention Dolly's name,--"Miss Dorothea Dering, girls,"--only +time for this before the clock rung out the hour of six; and at the last +stroke Miss Marr turned her head from the girls, who were flocking about +her, and looked back at Hope Benham. + +"Hope, will you take Dorothea--Miss Dering--in to dinner?" + +Miss Marr did not see the change in Hope's face,--the sudden stiffening, +as it were, of every feature; but Kate Van der Berg saw it. It was the +same kind of stiffness that she had noticed when Hope came into the +library,--the rigid stiffness that she had called a "stand-off sort of +air," and there was that little hard pucker again between the eyes. + +"Hope will take her in to dinner and be as polite to her as a Chinese +mandarin, but she won't 'take' to her in any other way," was Miss Kate's +shrewd reflection. + +The position was not an agreeable one to Hope, but she bethought herself +that it might have been much more disagreeable if Dorothea had +remembered. That she did not, was perfectly apparent. But if she had +remembered! Hope shuddered to think of what might have happened if this +had been the case. How, with that incapacity for understanding sensitive +natures unlike her own, this girl would in some abrupt way have referred +to that past painful encounter,--painful, not because of the different +conditions of things at that time, but painful because of that first +cruel knowledge of the world that had come through it. + +Kate Van der Berg was not far wrong when she prophesied that Hope would +be as polite as a Chinese mandarin to the new-comer. Hope was very +polite. You could not have found fault with a single word or action. +Even Dolly saw nothing to find fault with; but all this politeness did +not warm and cheer her, did not make her feel any easier or more at +home. In sitting there at the dinner-table in the bright light she felt +more uncomfortable than ever, for by this searching light she saw now +very clearly the extreme plainness of each girl's attire; and as she +caught every now and then the quick observing glance of one and another, +she saw that she had made a great mistake,--that, instead of producing a +fine impression by her fine dress, she had produced an unfavorable one, +and was being silently criticised as rather loud and--oh, +horror!--vulgar. + +Miss Marr, looking across the table, did not fail to see that Hope was +not so successful as usual in charming away the awkwardness and +discomfort of a stranger. Presently she caught two or three little set +speeches of Hope's,--polite little speeches, but perfectly +mechanical,--and said to herself as Kate Van der Berg had said, "Hope +doesn't take to her." + +It was generally the custom for the girls to meet in the library before +and after dinner for a few minutes' social chat; but on this night most +of the girls, having just arrived, excused themselves, and went directly +upstairs to unpack their trunks and settle their various belongings. +Hope was very glad to make her excuses with the others, and escape to +her room, that for a few days she was to occupy alone. She was busily +engaged in putting the last things in their places, when there came a +light tap on the door, and to her "Come in," Miss Marr entered, with a +little apology for the lateness of her call, and an admiring exclamation +for Hope's quick dexterity in arranging her belongings. After this she +sat a moment in silence, with rather a perplexed look on her face; then +suddenly she broke the silence. + +"Hope," she said, "I am afraid I gave you an unpleasant task to perform +to-night." + +Hope reddened. + +"You didn't find it easy, I perceived, to talk with the new pupil." + +"N--o, I didn't," faltered Hope. + +"She was hard to get on with, wasn't she?" + +"I--I don't know. I--talked to her--I paid her what attention I could." + +"But she was disagreeable to you?" + +"She didn't intend to be--I--I didn't fancy her, Miss Marr." + +Miss Marr looked the surprise she felt. She had never known Hope to take +such a sudden dislike. + +"I didn't fancy her, and I suppose I was stiff with her; but I tried--I +tried to be polite to her." + +"Of course you did. I'm not finding fault with you, dear. You did what +you could to help me, and it was kind of you. I'm sorry you feel as you +do, but don't trouble any more about it; it will wear off, I dare say; +and now make haste and go to bed,--you look tired." + +"Miss Marr," and Hope put a detaining hand on Miss Marr's arm. "What is +it--what else is it you were thinking of--of asking me to do?" + +"Never mind, dear." + +"Tell me, please, Miss Marr." + +"I was going to ask you to let Miss Dering occupy the other bed in your +room to-night. Some one left the water running before dinner in the room +over hers, and the bed and carpet are drenched; but I will make some +other arrangement for her now,--you sha'n't be troubled with her." + +"But the other rooms are full." + +"Yes, but I will have a cot put up in the little parlor. Good-night;" +and with a soft touch of her hand on Hope's cheek, Miss Marr left the +room. She was half-way down the hall when Hope ran after her. + +"Miss Marr, Miss Marr, don't--don't put up the bed in the little parlor. +It is nine o'clock. Let her come to my room." + +"My dear, go back; don't think any more about the matter." + +"No, no, let her come to my room, _please_, Miss Marr." + +Miss Marr looked at the pleading face uplifted to hers, and understood. +At least she understood enough to see that Hope was already accusing +herself of being disobliging and selfish, and that she would be far more +uncomfortable now if left alone than she would be in sharing her room +with the obnoxious new comer; and so without more hesitation she yielded +the point, with a "Very well, dear; it shall be as you say," and went on +down the hall to Dorothea. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +"I am very sorry to have intruded upon you," said Dolly, as Hope met her +at the door of her room. + +Dolly meant to be very dignified and rather haughty, but she behaved +instead like what she was,--a cross, tired, homesick girl. Hope, seeing +the red, swollen eyelids, forgave the crossness, and saying something +pleasant about its being no intrusion, pointed out the little bed behind +the screen that Dolly was to occupy, and went on with the work of +regulating her bureau drawers, that Miss Marr had interrupted, begging +to be excused as she did so. If Dolly had done the proper thing, the +thing that was expected of her, she would have retired behind the screen +and gone to bed then and there. But she had no idea of going to bed, so +long as there was a light burning, and anybody was stirring; so she +dropped down into an easy-chair that stood near the door, and took up a +book that was lying on the table. It was a copy of "Le Luthier de +Cremone,"--a charming little play by Francois Coppee. Miss Dolly turned +the leaves over a moment, then put the volume down, and cast an +interested, curious look at Hope, who at that moment was busy arranging +her boxes. Dolly had studied French sufficiently to enable her to read +some very simple stories, but "Le Luthier de Cremone" was quite beyond +her power, and her glance at Hope was compounded of envy and admiration. +Hope, without apparently observing her, was yet nervously conscious of +every movement, and thought to herself,-- + +"Oh, dear! why _doesn't_ she go to bed?" + +Putting down the book, Dolly's eyes next turned to a certain oblong case +that was lying upon a chair near her. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, "do you play the violin?" + +"Yes, a little," answered Hope. + +"So do I. May I look at your violin?" + +Hope hesitated a second, then lifted the instrument from its case. It +was not the good little fiddle that she had earned for herself five +years ago. That was safely packed away. This was a much more costly +fiddle, and had been purchased in Paris for her by a brother of Mr. +Kolb, who was an extensive dealer in violins Dolly had taken lessons of +an excellent teacher, who was also an excellent judge of a violin, and +had chosen hers for her. She had at various times heard him talk about +some of the famous old violin-makers, and recognized their names when +she heard them spoken. As she took Hope's violin from her hands, she +said,-- + +"Oh, yours is about the size of mine. Mine is English, but it is +modelled on the famous old Stradivari pattern of Cremona, my teacher +said. You know Stradivari was one of the most famous of the Cremona +makers," looking up at Hope with an air of wisdom. + +[Illustration: "SHE TOOK HOPE'S VIOLIN FROM HER HANDS"] + +Hope nodded. + +"But this is a pretty little violin,--sort of quaint-looking," went on +Dolly, amiably. She was fast recovering her spirits, forgetting her +grievances and homesickness in her present interest, with her accustomed +alacrity. + +"Yes, I think it is pretty," Hope answered quietly. + +"Very pretty; I really think it is prettier than mine, and what a nice +red color it has! Who made it, do you know?" + +"An Italian named Montagnana." + + +"Oh! does he have a shop in London? Did your teacher get it for you +there?" + +"No, I don't think he was ever in London, even when he was living. But +he died a great while ago. He lived in Cremona first, then in Venice." + +"In Cremona! How long ago?" + +"Well, he was a pupil of Stradivari, and he lived in Cremona in the year +1740, and after he had studied for a time with Stradivari, he went to +Venice, where the manufacture of violins was very flourishing." + +"What! this is a real Cremona violin?" cried Dolly. "Why--why, Mr. +Andrews, my teacher, said that they were very rare, and when you did +succeed in getting hold of one that it took a lot of money to buy it." + +Hope made no response to this speech; and Dolly, looking up at her, +caught the expression of her face, and hastened to say,-- + +"I didn't mean that I didn't believe it was a Cremona violin; but I was +so astonished, you know, because I'd heard Mr. Andrews go on so about +Cremona violins." + +Hope was old enough now to see that Dolly was honest in her +excuse,--that she had really meant no offence,--and, relenting a little, +replied,-- + +"Yes, I suppose it _is_ hard to find a genuine old Cremona; but my first +teacher was an old German musician, and his brother, who is a dealer in +violins in Paris, procured this for me." + +"But didn't it cost a lot of money?" + +"It was expensive." + +Dolly would have given a great deal to know just how expensive was that +beautiful little instrument, with its nice red color; but even she +couldn't bring herself to ask the question outright of that tall, +reserved girl, who was so perfectly polite and yet so far off from her. +Who was this girl, anyway, she thought,--this girl, no older than +herself, whose father could and would buy a Cremona violin for her? Her +own father--the Hon. James Dering--was a rich man, and a generous one, +but he would have laughed at the proposition of buying a Cremona violin +for his daughter. Why, Cremona violins were for professionals--when they +could get them--and enthusiastic collectors. But perhaps--perhaps this +girl was going to be a professional. With this new idea in her mind, +Dolly gave another glance at Hope. A professional? No, that could not +be. A girl who was preparing to be a professional wouldn't be here at +Miss Marr's school. But a Cremona violin! Dolly wouldn't have been at +all astonished if a girl had shown her a fine watch-case set about with +diamonds. Mary had a very valuable watch of that kind, and she herself +had the promise of one like it when she was as old as Mary. It didn't +occur to her that a Cremona violin was a piece of property that was +yearly advancing in value; that it was, in fact, a better investment, as +the phrase is, than diamonds even. She had heard her father say often +that diamonds would always bring their market value, and that they were +therefore very safe property to hold, though not bringing in any +interest. That a violin of any kind could have this property value did +not enter her head, and Hope's possession grew more and more puzzling to +her. Hope all the time had a keen sense of her companion's wonder and +curiosity, and was half amused, half irritated by it. But she succeeded +very well in concealing the state of her feelings, and was as polite as +ever, even when Dolly nearly dropped the precious Cremona, only giving +utterance to a little gasping "Oh!" Dolly herself was rather frightened +at the possible accident, and was glad to hand the instrument back to +its owner. As she did so, she asked suddenly,-- + +"Have you lived abroad? Did you take lessons abroad?" + +"Yes, I have lived abroad, and I took lessons nearly all the time I was +away." + +"Where were you,--in Germany?" + +"No, in Paris part of the time and part of the time in London." + +"How jolly!" + +"Yes, it was rather jolly sometimes, though both my French and English +teachers were very exacting, and made me work hard." + +"Oh! I don't mean the work,--the violin lessons; I mean the living in +London and Paris," answered Dolly, frankly. + +Hope couldn't help laughing at this frankness. + +Dolly laughed a little too, but she was quite in earnest, nevertheless, +and began another string of questions,--what Hope saw, where she went, +what she bought, etc. + +Hope's answers did not open the field of entertainment that Dolly +expected, for galleries and museums and music and quiet pleasures of +that kind were not what Dolly was thinking of in connection with Paris +and London. + +"But didn't you visit people, and go to theatres and things, and have +fun?" she asked at length. + +Hope smiled a queer, amused smile that Dolly didn't understand, as she +answered: "I didn't go abroad to have fun of that sort, but I had a +beautiful time." + +"I suppose you had a beautiful time slaving away at that violin." + +"I did, indeed," answered Hope, laughing outright. + +"What a lot you must know about a violin!" + +"I? Oh, no, no!" + +Hope at that instant was putting a pile of music upon a little +music-rack. Dolly caught sight of the upper sheet. + +"What! you play those things of Bach? Well, you _must_ know a lot!" + +"No, I _love_ a lot, and I've studied hard, that's all." + +"I should say so; and here," turning over the pages, "are Mendelssohn +and Beethoven and Chopin. Why, I should think you were studying to play +in public. Oh! but here is something more frivolous, more in my style," +pouncing upon a waltz. "Oh, I just dote on waltzes; try this now, do." + +"Oh, no, not now; it is too late. We must have our lights out by ten, +and it is fifteen minutes to ten this moment." + +"Oh, bother!" and Dolly wrinkled up her forehead. "I hate to go to bed." + +Hope's only reply to this remark was, "Then, if you'll excuse me and +turn out the gas when you are ready, I'll say good-night, for I'm very +tired;" and hastily retreating behind her screen, she left Dolly to her +own devices. + +Tired as she was, however, it was a long time before Hope could sleep. +Dolly, too, lay awake for a while, thinking over the many incidents of +the day. But her thoughts were not perplexed thoughts like Hope's. She +had no hurt remembrance of the past to perplex her. She had not by any +means entirely forgotten the little flower-girl, though she had +forgotten her name; but the memory of her was a latent one, and was not +for an instant stirred by her present companion's personality. Hope was +quite a new acquaintance to her. It never occurred to Dolly that she had +ever seen her before, unless she was really that girl whom she had seen +with the Edlicotts last spring. It was one of Dolly's characteristics +not to brood long over anything disagreeable; and lying there in the +still darkness, and reflecting upon the incidents of the day, the little +surprises and mortifications began to give way to a sense of interest +and anticipation, the principal point of interest at the moment being +Hope and her violin. Oddly enough, from the time that Dolly had seen +Hope coming down the hall, and had received that courteous little +greeting from her, she had been attracted towards her. The rather stiff +politeness that had followed, if disappointing, had not been repelling, +and the subsequent bedroom chat, with its revelation of musical +accomplishments and foreign experiences, to say nothing of that +wonderful Cremona violin, had made a fresh impression upon Dolly of such +power that even Miss Marr's attractiveness became quite secondary in her +mind. + +Hope could not but see something of this. She was not flattered by it, +however, for as she thought over it, she said to herself,-- + +"It is not the real Hope Benham who attracts her, but a young lady who +has lived abroad, and who is rich enough to own a Cremona violin, and to +play Bach and Beethoven studies upon it. If she knew that I was the girl +who sold her the flowers at the Brookside station, things would be quite +different." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +It was the next morning just after breakfast that Miss Marr, coming out +of her little parlor, met Hope in the hall, and said to her,-- + +"I'm afraid you did not sleep well, my dear; you look heavy-eyed." + +"No, I didn't sleep very well," answered Hope, coloring slightly. + +"Did Miss Dering keep you awake?" + +"Y--es, I suppose so--but--it wasn't so bad as I expected." + +Miss Marr laughed. "Oh! it was not so bad as you expected. She wears +better on further acquaintance. I'm glad to hear that, but I am afraid +she's a great chatterer. However, her room will be in order to-night, so +you won't be together again." + +Hope drew a deep breath of satisfaction, and her face showed +unmistakable signs of relief. Miss Marr took note of these signs, and +thought,-- + +"It is not like Hope to take prejudices against people. I wonder what it +is that she finds so unbearable in this girl. It might help me a good +deal if I knew." + +A few guarded questions at once revealed Miss Marr's state of mind to +Hope, and she immediately hastened to say,-- + +"I'm afraid I've given you a wrong impression; it is only a personal +feeling with me, Miss Marr. I--I met this girl, Dorothea,--they called +her 'Dolly' then,--five years ago, when I was only ten years old. She +has forgotten me, but I never forgot her, for she spoke so rudely, so +unkindly to me at the time, that I can't get over it. That's all. I dare +say the other girls will like her, and I--I've nothing else against +her." + +Miss Marr touched Hope's cheek with her finger,--a caressing way she had +at times, and said gently,-- + +"Thank you, Hope, for being so honest; I can always trust you." + +Hope had been with Miss Marr for the past year, and had won her +confidence and love by the fine sweet strain of her character. + +"She's such an upright, sympathetic little soul, I can trust her with +anything," the Frenchwoman had said to her friends. + +It was one of these friends,--the wife of a scientific man,--that the +Benhams had become acquainted with in Paris, who had suggested Hope as a +pupil to Miss Marr, and told her something of John Benham's career. + +"Such an interesting man," the friend had said, in summing up her +account of him,--"what we call a self-made man, because he has had to +cultivate his tastes by books and private study unhelped by the schools; +but God-made after the finest pattern if ever a man was, and with a nice +sensible wife and this dearest little daughter, whom they have so wisely +determined to send home to their own country to complete her education." + +Angelique Marr recalled these words as she looked at Hope. It was just +at that moment that a door farther down the corridor was energetically +flung open, and Miss Dorothea Dering appeared with her arms full of +books. Hope started, and was turning away in the other direction, when +Dolly called out,-- + +"Oh! Miss--Miss--er--er--Benham, wait a minute; I want to ask you +something." + +Hope waited, putting a detaining hand at the same time upon Miss Marr, +who made a movement to step back into her parlor. + +"I wanted to ask you," said Dolly, as she hurried up, "if you would let +me practise with you sometimes. You play a great deal higher kind of +music than I do, but I _can_ play better things, and I've got a lovely +violin duet that I want awfully to practise with somebody; and if you +only _would_!" with an appealing glance at Hope. + +There was a slight pause, in which Miss Marr regarded Hope with a little +curiosity. Hope Benham's violin-playing was known throughout the school +as something out of the common, and the best of the piano pupils felt +that they were hardly up to playing her accompaniments; and here was +this new-comer proposing a violin duet with her! What would be Hope's +answer to this proposition? There was only the slightest possible pause; +then came this answer,-- + +"My violin practice is very rigidly confined to the studies that my +teacher gives me, and he is very unwilling that I should play anything +else." + +"Oh, music-teachers are always that way! _I_ don't mind 'em," cried +Dolly, airily; "and anyway, you can try some things with me in off +times, can't she, Miss Marr?" + +"Oh, I never encourage pupils to disobey a teacher," answered Miss Marr, +a little amused at Dolly's density in appealing thus to her. + +"Of course not. I forgot; you don't seem like a teacher or anything of +that sort yourself to me; you seem somehow like one of us," said Dolly. +Then turning again to Hope, with a confident nod,-- + +"You just ask your teacher if you can't play with me at off times, won't +you?" + +Hope murmured something vague in the way of reply, but Dolly had no +doubt that her proposition would be carried into effect in due season. +In the mean time, as it had not yet been decided about her own violin +lessons, she determined to practise what she could by herself, and at +odd intervals after this there was heard issuing from her room a variety +of shrill scrapings, at which the girls would shrug their shoulders, and +shake their heads at one another. One day Kate Van der Berg accosted +Hope with this question,-- + +"When do you begin practising that duet with Miss Dering?" + +"Oh, how did you hear about that?" + +"Not from you, Miss Closemouth." + +"But Miss Marr, I know, didn't speak of it." + +"No, Miss Dorothea Dering herself told us that when things were all +settled, the classes arranged, etc., you were going to practise a violin +duet with her." + +"She spoke to Miss Marr and to me about it," answered Hope, evasively. + +"Oh, she spoke to Miss Marr and you about it, and Miss Marr and you +didn't say 'Yes,' and you thought that would be enough of an answer; and +it would, ordinarily, but it won't in this case, you'll see, my dear. +Miss Dorothea Dering is used to having her own way, and, Hope, I'm of +the opinion she'll have it now." + +Hope straightened her slim figure, and that little pucker came into her +forehead that Kate Van der Berg knew so well, whereat Kate laughed, and +said gayly,-- + +"How ungrateful you are, Hope!" + +"Ungrateful! how am I ungrateful?" + +"Not to embrace your opportunities and respond to such overtures. Hope, +what is it that you dislike about Dorothea Dering? I saw from the first +that you had taken a dislike to her." + +Hope flushed uncomfortably. + +"And she seems to admire you immensely. What is it? What have you seen +in her? what do you know about her?" + +"I don't know anything about her for anybody else, only I--It is +entirely my feeling; it needn't prejudice anybody else," cried Hope, +dismayed. + +Kate Van der Berg was a warm-hearted, demonstrative girl, and at the +trouble in Hope's voice and in her face she flung her arms around her, +and said,-- + +"There, there, never mind about her or what I said. It's all right; or +_you_ are all right, whatever she may be." + +Hope put her cheek down upon Kate's shoulder for a moment; then suddenly +lifting her head, she burst out,-- + +"No, no, you mustn't think as you do, that there's anything very bad +that I'm holding back. I mustn't let you think so; it would be wicked in +me. It is only just about myself,--something that she said to me long +ago,--five years ago. She's forgotten it; she's forgotten me. I only met +her for a few minutes, two or three times." + +"The disagreeable thing! I shall hate her!" Kate cried impulsively. + +"No, no, don't say so. I dare say you would have liked her if I--if I +could have kept what I felt to myself, and I thought I did, I thought I +did. Oh, dear!" and Hope stopped abruptly, as she realized that her own +excitement was making matters worse. + +"Liked her! Not if she could have said anything bad enough to hurt you +like this,--to have hurt you for five years." + +"It doesn't hurt me as it did then, but I remember it." + +"Well, that shows what a hurt it must have been." + +"What she said was out of ignorance. She didn't know any better," Hope +went on, determined to do the honorable thing by her childish enemy. + +"I don't believe she knows much better now. Oh, you needn't try to +smooth it all over to me, you little conscientious thing; it's of no +use." + +"But, Kate, promise me one thing,--that you won't--you won't talk to the +other girls about it." + +"Yes, I'll promise you that I'll be as mum as an oyster." + +"And you won't--you won't be--" + +"Disagreeable to her?" interrupted Kate, laughing. "Well, I'll try not +to be; I'll take pattern by you, and be so politely fascinating that +she'll ask me to play duets with her." + +Hope could not help laughing at this, but all the time she felt +disturbed and troubled. Kate Van der Berg had playfully jibed at her for +her conscientiousness. Kate thought she was over-conscientious, and she +might have been sometimes, for she was a sensitive creature, with high +notions and ideas of truth and justice and honor, and her father had +developed these ideas by his advice and counsel. One of the things that +he had impressed upon her was never to take advantage of any one, +especially any one that you had had a quarrel with. "Fair play, my dear, +always; remember that, and so you must remember to be open and above +board after you've had any differences with people, and never let +yourself say or hint damaging things about them, to prejudice others," +was one of his favorite pieces of counsel, put in one form and another, +at various times. Hope thought of these words even when she joined in +Kate Van der Berg's laughter. She thought of them after Kate had left +her, and all through the rest of the day they would start up to torment +her. At last she said to herself: "This is over-conscientious, for _I +didn't mean_ to prejudice any one against Dolly Dering. I tried not to +show how I felt, and if I didn't succeed, it isn't my fault; but I'm a +great goose to fuss so. Kate will keep her promise, I know, and Miss +Dorothea Dering won't be unpopular because of anything I have said." + +So the matter rested, and the days went on, the school arrangements +settling into order, and the school companionships falling into the +usual adjustment by personal choice. When everything seemed to be +running smoothly, Dolly came forward again with her proposition. It was +one afternoon when she heard the sound of a violin floating down from +the music-room. It was the first time she had heard it, and obeying her +headlong impulse, she ran swiftly up the stairs and knocked at the door. +A voice called out, "Come in;" and obeying it, she found herself not +only in the presence of Hope, but of Kate Van der Berg, Myra +Donaldson,--Hope's lately returned room-mate,--and Anna Fleming. Myra +was seated at the piano, a sheet of music before her, waiting for Hope +to signal to her. All the girls looked up and bowed as Dolly entered, +but no one spoke. They were intent upon watching Hope, who, bow in hand, +was carefully testing the strings that she had just tightened. + +Dolly came round and stood beside Kate Van der Berg at the back of the +piano, which was a parlor grand placed half-way down the room. She +started to whisper, "What is it they--" but was checked by Kate's "Hush! +hush!" and just then the bow was brought to bear softly upon the +strings, as Hope began playing the sonata in F major by Beethoven. Once +or twice as the music progressed, Kate glanced at Dolly with a new +interest. What was this cool intruder--for such Kate dubbed +her--thinking as she listened to these exquisitely rendered strains? Was +she properly astonished and ashamed of herself for proposing to join +such a performer in a violin duet? Dolly's face betrayed nothing, +however. She simply stood perfectly still, leaning a little forward +against the piano, her big black eyes fixed in a steady gaze, now upon +Hope's violin bow, and now upon Hope herself. She stood thus until near +the close, when the difficult and delightful passages approach the +climax. Then her eyes wandered, her features relaxed, and when the end +came, she was ready with a little outburst of vigorous applause, which +she followed up with,-- + +"You ought to play in public at concerts. But how you _must_ have +worked! I'm not up to the classic, and I can't play like you, anyway. +What I like, what I _love_, is dance music,--waltzes,--and I've got the +loveliest duet in that time. It'll be as easy as A B C too. I'll run and +get it now, and my violin, and you just try it with me, and--oh, say, +have you asked your teacher what I told you to? You haven't? Well, never +mind for anybody's permission. 'T won't take you long; I'll--" + +"You really must excuse me, but I can't play any more now," interrupted +Hope's voice, as Dolly turned to go for her violin. + +"Oh, dear, I wish I'd come sooner, before you had started off on that +long thing. But will you play with me to-morrow about this time? Or why +not to-night after dinner?" + +"But," with a queer little smile, "I haven't asked my teacher's +permission yet." + +"No, and I don't believe you care two pins about that," answered Dolly. + +"Well, I don't believe it would be of any use," responded Hope, +guardedly. + +"Then say to-night after dinner." + +"To-night after dinner I had promised to read French with Kate Van der +Berg." + +"Oh, well, there'll be time enough for that too; and you won't mind, +will you, if she plays with me first?" addressing Kate. + +"Mind? I shall mind a great deal," Kate made haste to reply. "I know how +it is when these musical people get started; they never know when to +stop. No, she's promised to me to-night, and I'm not going to let her +off." + +All this was said in a bright, laughing way, that hadn't an atom of +unfriendliness in the tone of it; and Dolly had not the faintest idea +that her proposition was being decidedly snubbed, as she listened. The +other girls were wiser. The moment that Hope refused to play in the way +she did, they knew that the proposition was distasteful to her; and when +Kate Van der Berg came to the support of this refusal with that quick, +bright decision, they knew that _she_ knew more than they did why the +proposition was distasteful. + +Anna Fleming, who was Kate's room-mate, said to her a little later,-- + +"Kate, didn't you think it was rather disobliging of Hope Benham not to +play that duet with Dorothea Dering?" + +"Disobliging! Well, that is a way to put it. I think it was the most +forward, presuming--what my brother Schuyler would call 'the cheekiest +thing' for that girl to take it for granted that such a violinist as +Hope Benham would want to practise her little rubbishy waltzes with +her." + +"But she didn't know probably what a splendid player Hope was, when she +first asked her." + +"She knew, didn't she, after she had heard the sonata?" + +"Yes, I suppose she had some idea, but she might not have been a very +good judge. She said, you know, at once that she couldn't play like +Hope, anyway." + +"Yes, I heard her; so kind of her to say that," cried Kate, +sarcastically. + +Anna laughed. Then, "What's the matter with 'that girl,' as you call +her?" she asked. + +"Matter! well, I should think you could see as well as I that she is a +forward sort of thing; that's all I've got against her," Kate concluded +hastily, remembering her promise to Hope. + +"Hope must have taken a great dislike to her." + +"Why should you think that?" + +"Because I never knew Hope Benham to set herself up on her +violin-playing before, and refuse to play with anybody." + + +"Nobody has ever asked her to play a violin duet. It is she who has +asked one of us to play an accompaniment for her now and then. You know +that _we_ should never have thought of going forward and offering to +play for her." + +"Oh, well, we knew all about her playing from Miss Marr. But you say +nobody has ever asked her to play a violin duet. How about that little +Vernon girl who left last term? Hope used to play with _her_ a great +deal, and Milly used to ask her too. Hope didn't care particularly for +Milly Vernon." + +"But she wanted to help her." + +"And she wanted to be obliging too. Hope Benham has always been one of +the kindest and most obliging girls in school." + +"And she is now, but she has some sense and spirit, and probably doesn't +mean to have a new-comer like Dorothea Dering take full possession of +her on short acquaintance." + +"Yes, it _is_ a pretty short acquaintance," responded Anna, +thoughtfully. + +"That last remark of mine was a happy hit," thought Kate, triumphantly. +"It has disposed of all the surmises about Hope's dislike, but," she +further thought, "I wonder how this violin business is going to end. I +prophesy that Miss Dorothea Dering will carry the day, and Hope will +play that duet with her yet." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +The first two months at school generally pass very quickly; after that, +the time is apt to move a little slower. The first two months at Miss +Marr's school passed so quickly that the girls all confessed themselves +"so surprised" when December came with Christmas scarcely more than +three weeks away. Miss Marr gave a vacation on Christmas week, when the +boarding-girls, as those who were inmates of her house were called, +could go to their homes, if not too far off, and return by New Year's +eve, for it was a fixed rule that they must all be back by that time, +and not one of them but was delighted to obey this rule, for not one of +them would have lost Miss Marr's New Year's party, which, according to +Kate Van der Berg, was the best fun of the year. + +"But what do you do, what _is_ the fun?" inquired Dolly Dering, who was +present when Kate made the above statement. + +"What do we do?" answered Kate. "Well, in the first place, on New Year's +eve, we have a jolly little party of just ourselves,--we girls in the +house, none of the outside girls, the day pupils,--and we play games, +sing songs, tell stories, do anything, in fact, that we want to do, and +at half-past ten there is a little light supper served, such as ices, +and the most delicious frosted sponge-cakes, and seed-cakes, and then +there is bread and butter, and hot cocoa for those that want it. After +this we feel as fresh and rested as possible, and all ready to sit the +old year out and the new year in." + +"Oh, you _don't_ do that?" cried Dolly, delightedly, for to sit up late +was one of her ideas of happiness. + +"We do just that" + +"Well, and then?" + +"Then," went on Kate, laughing, "we begin to grow a little quieter. We +tell stories in lower voices; we watch the clock, and as it strikes +twelve, we jump to our feet and all break out singing a New Year's song +or hymn. Sometimes it is one thing and sometimes it is another. Last +year it was Tennyson's + + "Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky: + The year is dying; let him die." + +"And Hope's violin playing," exclaimed Myra Donaldson here. "Don't you +remember how Hope played the violin last year? She just made it talk; +don't you remember?" + +"Oh, yes," went on Kate, hurriedly. "Hope played, and then we all wished +each other a 'Happy New Year,' and went to bed. The next day--" + +"What did she play?" asked Dolly, breaking in upon Kate here. + +"Oh, she played--she played--" + +"Robert Franz's 'Good-night' song and Behr's 'Good-morning,'" struck in +Myra again, impatient at Kate's hesitation. + +"Oh, I know Franz's 'Good-night,' and doesn't the 'Good morning' go like +this?" asked Dolly, beginning to whistle the air of Behr's. + +"Yes, that is it, and I played the accompaniment," answered Myra. "It +was just delicious. We all cried, for it seemed as if the violin sang +the very words." + +"I never heard either of them on the violin, but my sister sings them +both," said Dolly. + +"I think these were arranged for the violin by Hope's teacher, specially +for Hope," exclaimed Myra. "I think Hope--" + +"Don't you want to hear what we did the next day and the next evening?" +called out Kate, exasperated at Myra's harping on Hope and her violin to +Dolly. + +"Oh, yes;" and Dolly brightened up expectantly. Myra, at that moment +receiving a sharp little reminder under the table from Kate's foot, and +another reminder from Kate's warning look, subsided into silence, while +Kate took up her story of New Year's day and evening. + +"Of course, after that midnight watch, we breakfasted late,--oh, so +late! and the best part of it was, we breakfasted in our rooms." + +"In your rooms?" exclaimed Dolly. + +"Yes, at ten o'clock, tap, tap, came on our doors, and enter Susette +with a tray, on which was a delicious breakfast for two, and a dear +little bouquet of flowers for each of us. Isn't Miss Marr a dear to +think of such things?" + +"Will she do the same this year?" questioned Dolly, eagerly. + +"Oh, yes; she has always done the same in the main things,--the evening +luncheon or little supper on New Year's eve, the sitting out, then the +breakfast, and the reception party New Year's night. She only varies +some of the details." + +"Oh, you have an evening party New Year's night?" + +"Yes, indeed." + +"Who is invited? Who comes?" + +"Well, I can tell you one thing,--that everybody comes who is lucky +enough to be invited, and the invited are all the outside girls and one +friend of each; that is, each girl can invite one friend. We +boarding-girls have the same privilege. I always invite one of my +relations, and isn't there a scramble amongst them to see which it shall +be?" + +"And what do you do at the party?" + +Kate looked a little disgusted at this question. "What do we do? We do +what most people do at a party," she answered rather tartly. + +"Well, what I meant was, do you dance?" asked Dolly, in a +half-apologetic tone. + +"Dance? I should think we did, and we have music, and at the very end +the best fun of all." + +"I shouldn't think it would be such great fun, just to dance with +girls." + +"You are not obliged to dance with girls." + +"What! You don't mean--that there are young fellows--men?" + +"There are _boys_,--that's what I call them,--boys like my brother +Schuyler. Schuyler is seventeen." + +Dolly gave a long drawn "Oh!" It was evidently an "Oh" of relief; but +directly she asked, with demure mischief,-- + +"Can't you have 'em over seventeen?" + +Kate laughed. "Well, we can't have regular grown-ups, you know, and we +don't want them. But we can have them all the way from fifteen to +eighteen, I believe." + +"How odd! Doesn't Miss Marr think we are up to conversation with +grown-up young gentlemen?" + +"She thinks probably that 'grown-up gentlemen,' as you call +them,--gentlemen out in society,--wouldn't care to come to a school-girl +party, and that it is much more suitable to have boys of our own +age,--boys we all know, or most of us know, at any rate, and who have +something the same interests that we have,--school interests, and things +of that kind. For my part, I shouldn't know what to say to gentlemen so +much older than myself." + +"Oh, wouldn't you?" cried Dolly, with an air--a knowing sort of +air--that exasperated Kate. "I have a grown-up sister, and I've seen a +good many of her gentlemen visitors. I never found it hard to talk to +them," went on Dolly, with a still more knowing air. + +"And I have a grown-up brother," retorted Kate, "and I've heard him tell +how men go on about half-grown girls and their forwardness and boldness +and pertness, and how they--the young men--disliked that kind of thing, +or else amused themselves with it for a little while, and then made fun +of it." + +Dolly's face had flushed scarlet at these words, and at the end she +burst forth angrily,-- + +"I suppose you mean that when I talked with my sister's, I must have +been forward and bold and pert." + +It was Kate's turn now to flush. She saw that in her irritation--Dolly +was apt to irritate her--she had been unwarrantably rude, and swallowing +her mortification, she at once made haste to say,-- + +"I beg your pardon, I--I shouldn't have spoken as I did. I am very +sorry." + +Dolly gave a quick glance at the speaker, hesitated a moment, as if +waiting for something further, then jumped up and flounced out of the +room with an angry impetus that there was no mistaking. + +"Well, that is interesting, I must confess," ejaculated Kate. "I begged +her pardon; what more did she want?" + +"She wanted you to say that you hadn't the least idea of _her_ in your +mind,--that you didn't mean that _she_ was forward or pert, and you said +nothing of the sort; you only begged her pardon for having _spoken_ as +you did," explained Myra Donaldson, giggling a little. + +"And that is what I meant,--just that,--that I was sorry for having +spoken--" + +"Your thoughts," said Myra, giggling again. + +"Dorothea is generally a good-natured girl," spoke up Anna Fleming here, +with a kind impulse to be just. + +"Oh, _I_ like Dorothea very well. I should like her better if she didn't +bounce and flounce so. You can't say that her manners are as nice as +they might be, can you?" said Myra, looking appealingly at Anna. + +"N--o, I can't say that her manners are really nice," answered Anna. + +"_I_ think she is vulgar!" Kate suddenly snapped out, with a vehemence +that quite startled the other two girls. + +"Vulgar! why, Kate, she's one of the Boston Derings." + +Kate made a little face, and then in a sarcastic voice, "Who are the +Boston Derings?" she asked. + +"Now, Kate, you know perfectly well that the Boston Derings belong to +the best society in Massachusetts, and that they have always belonged to +it from the first," protested Anna, getting things rather mixed in her +eagerness. + +"From the first!" repeated Kate, laughing derisively. "I suppose you +mean from the time of Adam." + +"Now, Kate, you know perfectly well what I mean. The Derings came from +an old family." + +"Like Sandy MacDougal." + +"Eh--what--who is Sandy MacDougal?" + +"Our gardener. He came straight to us from Scotland, and he's as proud +as a peacock of his family. He says the MacDougals have been first-class +gardeners for generations." + +Myra Donaldson gave another of her giggles, but Anna did not join in her +levity. Instead of that she said with dignity,-- + +"What _I_ mean is an old family like the Van der Bergs." + +Kate flushed rosy red. This was "a retort courteous," and for a moment +she was dumb; but a moment after, she sat up in her chair, and cried +laughingly,-- + +"The Van der Bergs are not proud, except of one thing in their family +history." + +"What's that?" inquired Anna, quickly. + +Kate laughed again. "It is the performance of a long-ago ancestor,--a +Dutch boatman named Van der Berg. It was in that early time when the +Netherlanders were struggling against Spain to establish their own +liberty and independence. William the Silent, Prince of Orange, you +know, who had been the Netherlanders' best friend when he was at the +head of their commonwealth, was dead, and his son, Maurice, Prince of +Nassau, was working with John of olden Barneveld to help the +Netherlanders, as his father had been doing, to become strong enough to +get altogether out of the clutches of Spain. But how ridiculous of me to +talk history to you like this, just because of that old story! To change +the conversation, what is it you are knitting, Anna,--a shawl or a +cape?" + +"No, no, we don't want to change the conversation," protested Anna and +Myra, who knew quite well what a delightful story-teller Kate was, and +never more delightful than when she was "talking history,"--telling +"true stories," as they expressed it. Neither of the girls was very fond +of _studying_ history, but they were very fond of listening to Kate +whenever she would "talk it," or whenever she would pick out of it +its--to them--labyrinthine mazes some stirring incident, and read it to +them. So their protest now was very decisive against any change of +conversation; and thus urged to go back to her subject, Kate went on +with the story of her ancestor. She had not gone far, however, when she +stopped short again, saying,-- + +"But wait! Motley tells the story so beautifully in his 'United +Netherlands;' let me read it to you in his own words. It's too bad to +try to tell it in _my_ words; and here's the book right on this lower +library shelf." + +[Illustration: "IT WAS THE WORK OF A MOMENT TO POSSESS HERSELF OF THE +BOOK"] + +It was the work of a moment to possess herself of the book; and the +girls, settling themselves comfortably in their chairs, gave themselves +up to the pleasure of listening to the following spirited narrative:-- + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +"The fair and pleasant city of Breda lies on the Merk,--a slender stream +navigable for small vessels, which finds its way to the sea through the +great canal of the Dental. It had been the property of the Princes of +Orange, Barons of Breda, and had passed with the other possessions of +the family to the house of Chalons-Nassau. Henry of Nassau had, half a +century before, adorned and strengthened it by a splendid +palace-fortress, which, surrounded by a deep and double moat, thoroughly +commanded the town. A garrison of five companies of Italian infantry and +one of cavalry lay in this castle, which was under the command of Edward +Lanzavecchia, governor both of Breda and of the neighboring +Gertruydenberg. Breda was an important strategical position. It was, +moreover, the feudal superior of a large number of adjacent villages, as +well as of the cities of Osterhout, Steenberg, and Rosendaal. It was +obviously not more desirable for Maurice of Nassau to recover his +patrimonial city than it was for the States-General to drive the +Spaniards from so important a position. + +"In the month of February, 1590, Maurice, being then at the castle of +Voorn, in Zeeland, received a secret visit from a boatman,--Adrian Van +der Berg by name,--who lived at the village of Leur, eight or ten miles +from Breda, and who had been in the habit of supplying the castle with +turf. In the absence of wood and coal-mines, the habitual fuel of the +country was furnished by those vast relics of the antediluvian forests, +which abounded in the still partially submerged soil. The skipper +represented that his vessel had passed so often into and out of the +castle as to be hardly liable to search by the guard on its entrance. He +suggested a stratagem by which it might be possible to surprise the +stronghold. The prince approved of the scheme, and immediately consulted +with Barneveld. That statesman at once proposed, as a suitable man to +carry out the daring venture, Captain Charles de Heraugiere,--a nobleman +of Cambray,--who had been long in the service of the States, had +distinguished himself at Sluys and on other occasions, but who had been +implicated in Leicester's nefarious plot to gain possession of the city +of Leyden, a few years before. The advocate expressed confidence that he +would be grateful for so signal an opportunity of retrieving a somewhat +damaged reputation. Heraugiere, who was with his company in Voorn at the +moment, eagerly signified his desire to attempt the enterprise as soon +as the matter was communicated to him, avowing the deepest devotion to +the House of William the Silent, and perfect willingness to sacrifice +his life, if necessary, in its cause and that of the country. Philip +Nassau, cousin of Prince Maurice, and brother of Lewis William, Governor +of Gorcum Dorcum and Lowenstein Castle, and colonel of a regiment of +cavalry, was also taken into the secret, as well as Count Hohenlo, +President Van der Myle, and a few others; but a mystery was carefully +spread and maintained over the undertaking. Heraugiere selected +sixty-eight men, on whose personal daring and patience he knew that he +could rely, from the regiments of Philip Nassau and Famars, governor of +the neighboring city of Hensden, and from his own company. Besides +himself, the officers to command the party were Captains Lozier and +Fervet, and Lieutenant Matthew Held. The names of such devoted soldiers +deserve to be commemorated, and are still freshly remembered by their +countrymen. + +"On the 25th of February, Maurice and his staff went to Willemstad, on +the isle of Klundert, it having been given out on his departure from the +Hague that his destination was Dort. On the same night, at about eleven +o'clock, by the feeble light of a waning moon, Heraugiere and his band +came to the Swertsenburg ferry, as agreed upon, to meet the boatman. +They found neither him nor his vessel, and they wandered about half the +night, very cold, very indignant, much perplexed. At last, on their way +back, they came upon the skipper at the village of Terheyde, who made +the extraordinary excuse that he had overslept himself, and that he +feared the plot had been discovered. It being too late to make any +attempt that night, a meeting was arranged for the following evening. No +suspicion of treachery occurred to any of the party, although it became +obvious that the skipper had grown faint-hearted. He did not come on the +next night to the appointed place, but he sent two nephews, boatmen like +himself, whom he described as dare-devils. + +"On Monday night, the 26th of February, the seventy went on board the +vessel, which was apparently filled with blocks of turf, and packed +themselves closely in the hold. They moved slowly during a little time +on their perilous voyage, for the winter wind, thick with fog and sleet, +blew directly down the river, bringing along with it huge blocks of ice, +and scooping the water out of the dangerous shallows, so as to render +the vessel at any moment liable to be stranded. At last the navigation +became impossible, and they came to a standstill. From Monday night till +Thursday morning those seventy Hollanders lay packed like herrings in +the hold of their little vessel, suffering from hunger, thirst, and +deadly cold; yet not one of them attempted to escape or murmured a wish +to abandon the enterprise. Even when the third morning dawned, there was +no better prospect of proceeding, for the remorseless east wind still +blew a gale against them, and the shoals which beset their path had +become more dangerous than ever. It was, however, absolutely necessary +to recruit exhausted nature, unless the adventurers were to drop +powerless on the threshold when they should at last arrive at their +destination. In all secrecy they went ashore at a lonely castle called +Nordam, where they remained to refresh themselves until about eleven at +night, when one of the boatmen came to them with the intelligence that +the wind had changed and was now blowing freshly from the sea. Yet the +voyage of a few leagues, on which they were embarked, lasted nearly two +whole days longer; on Saturday afternoon they passed through the last +sluice, and at about three o'clock the last boom was shut behind them. +There was no retreat possible for them now. The seventy were to take the +strong castle and city of Breda or to lay down their lives every man of +them. No quarter and short shrift,--such was their certain destiny, +should that crippled, half-frozen little band not succeed in their task +before another sunrise. + +"They were now in the outer harbor, and not far from the water-gate +which led into the inner castle-haven. Presently an officer of the guard +put off in a skiff and came on board the vessel. Those inside could see +and hear his every movement. Had there been a single cough or sneeze +from within, the true character of the cargo, then making its way into +the castle, would have been discovered, and every man would, within ten +minutes, have been butchered. But the officer, unsuspecting, soon took +his departure, saying that he would send some men to warp the vessel +into the castle dock. + +"Meantime, as the adventurers were making their way slowly towards the +water-gate, they struck upon a hidden obstruction in the river, and the +deeply laden vessel sprang a leak. In a few minutes those inside were +sitting up to their knees in water,--a circumstance which scarcely +improved their already sufficiently dismal condition. The boatmen +vigorously plied the pumps to save the vessel from sinking outright; a +party of Italian soldiers soon arrived on the shore, and in the course +of a couple of hours they had laboriously dragged the concealed +Hollanders into the inner harbor and made their vessel fast, close to +the guard-house of the castle. And now a crowd of all sorts came on +board. The winter nights had been long and fearfully cold, and there was +almost a dearth of fuel both in town and fortress. A gang of laborers +set to work discharging the turf from the vessel with such rapidity that +the departing daylight began to shine in upon the prisoners much sooner +than they wished. Moreover the thorough wetting to which, after all +their other inconveniences they had just been exposed, in their narrow +escape from foundering, had set the whole party sneezing and coughing. +Never was a catarrh so sudden, so universal, or ill-timed. Lieutenant +Held, unable to control the violence of his cough, drew his dagger and +eagerly implored his next neighbor to stab him to the heart, lest his +infirmity should lead to the discovery of the whole party. But the calm +and wary skipper who stood on the deck instantly commanded his companion +to work at the pump with as much chatter as possible, assuring the +persons present that the hold was nearly full of water. By this means +the noise of the coughing was effectually drowned. Most thoroughly did +the bold boatman deserve the title of "dare-devil" bestowed by his more +faint-hearted uncle. Calmly looking death in the face, he stood there, +quite at his ease, exchanging jokes with his old acquaintances, +chaffering with the eager purchasers of peat, shouting most noisy and +superfluous orders to the one man who composed his crew, doing his +utmost, in short, to get rid of his customers and to keep enough of the +turf on board to conceal the conspirators. At last, when the case seemed +almost desperate, he loudly declared that sufficient had been unladen +for that evening and that it was too dark and he was too tired for +further work. So giving a handful of stivers among the workmen, he bade +them go ashore at once and have some beer, and come next morning for the +rest of the cargo. Fortunately, they accepted his hospitable proposition +and took their departure; only the servant of the captain of the guard +lingered behind, complaining that the turf was not as good as usual, and +that his master would never be satisfied with it. + +"'Ah!' returned the cool skipper, '_the best part of the cargo is +underneath. This is expressly reserved for the captain. He is sure to +get enough of it to-morrow_.' + +"Thus admonished, the servant departed, and the boatman was left to +himself. His companion had gone on shore with secret orders to make the +best of his way to Prince Maurice, to inform him of the arrival of the +ship within the fortress, and of the important fact which they had just +learned that Governor Lanzavecchia, who had heard rumors of some +projected enterprise, and who suspected that the object aimed at was +Gertruydenberg, had suddenly taken his departure from that city, leaving +as his lieutenant his nephew Paola, a raw lad, quite incompetent to +provide for the safety of Breda. A little before midnight, Captain +Heraugiere made a brief address to his comrades in the vessel, telling +them that the hour for carrying out their undertaking had at length +arrived. Retreat was impossible, defeat was certain death; only in +complete victory lay their own safety and a great advantage for the +Commonwealth. It was an honor for them to be selected for such an +enterprise. To show cowardice now would be an eternal shame for them, +and he would be the man to strike dead with his own hand any traitor or +poltroon. But if, as he doubted not, every one was prepared to do his +duty, their success was assured, and he was himself ready to take the +lead in confronting every danger. He then divided the little band into +two companies,--one under himself to attack the main guard-house, the +other under Fernet to seize the arsenal of the fortress. Noiselessly +they stole out of the ship where they had so long been confined, and +stood at last on the ground within the precincts of the castle. +Heraugiere marched straight to the guard-house. + +"'Who goes there?' cried a sentinel, hearing some movement in the +darkness. + +"'A friend,' replied the captain, seizing him by the throat, and +commanding him, as he valued his life, to keep silence except when +addressed, and then to speak in a whisper. + +"'How many are there in the garrison?' muttered Heraugiere. + +"'Three hundred and fifty,' whispered the sentinel. + +"'How many?' eagerly demanded the nearest followers, not hearing the +reply. + +"'He says there are but fifty of them,' said Heraugiere, prudently +suppressing the three hundred, in order to encourage his comrades. + +"Quietly as they had made their approach, there was nevertheless a stir +in the guard-house. The captain of the watch sprang into the courtyard. + +"'Who goes?' he demanded in his turn. + +"'A friend,' again replied Heraugiere, striking him dead with a single +blow as he spoke. + +"Others emerged with torches. Heraugiere was slightly wounded, but +succeeded, after a brief struggle, in killing a second assailant. His +followers set upon the watch, who retreated into the guard-house. +Heraugiere commanded his men to fire through the doors and windows, and +in a few minutes every one of the enemy lay dead. It was not a moment +for making prisoners or speaking of quarter. Meantime Fervet and his +band had not been idle. The magazine house of the castle was seized, its +defenders slain. Young Lanzavecchia made a sally from the palace, was +wounded, and driven back with a few of his adherents. The rest of the +garrison fled helter-skelter into the town. Never had the musketeers of +Italy--for they all belonged to Spinola's famous Sicilian +Legion--behaved so badly. They did not even take the precaution to +destroy the bridge between the castle and the town, as they fled +panic-stricken before seventy Hollanders. Instead of encouraging the +burghers to their support, they spread dismay as they ran through every +street. Young Lanzavecchia, penned into a corner of the castle, began to +parley, hoping for a rally before a surrender should be necessary. In +the midst of the negotiation, and a couple of hours before dawn, +Hohenlo, duly apprised by the boatman, arrived with the vanguard of +Maurice's troops before the field-gate of the fort. A vain attempt was +made to force this portal open, but the winter's ice had fixed it fast. +Hohenlo was obliged to batter down the palisade near the water-gate, and +enter by the same road through which the fatal turf-boat had passed. +Soon after he had marched into the town at the head of a strong +detachment, Prince Maurice himself arrived in great haste, attended by +Philip Nassau, the Admiral Justinus Nassau, Count Solms, Peter Van der +Does, and Sir Francis Vere, and followed by another body of picked +troops; the musicians playing merrily that national air, then, as now, +so dear to Netherlanders,-- + + 'Wilhelmus van Nassonwen + Ben ick van Duytsem bloed.' + +"The fight was over. Some forty of the garrison had been killed, but not +a man of the attacking party. The burgomaster sent a trumpet to the +prince, asking permission to come to the castle to arrange a +capitulation; and before sunrise the city and fortress of Breda had +surrendered to the authority of the States-General and of his +Excellency. + +"There, I ought not to have read all that long story,--I've tired you +out, I know," exclaimed Kate, apologetically, as she closed her book. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +"Tired us out? No, indeed, you haven't," cried the girls in a breath; +and one of the girls was Hope, who had come in softly just as Kate had +begun to read, and who now added,-- + +"It's lovely to listen to anything when you read it, Kate." + +"Isn't it!" took up Myra. "Miss Marr ought to pay Kate a salary for the +good she does in this history business. I hate to _study_ it; I always +get all in a wabble with the dates and the names and the places, and by +and by, when I try to tell about it or think about it, I get a +fifteenth-century king into the sixteenth century just as likely as not. +But when Kate picks out her little nuggets of gold from the mass, and +sets them before me, I begin to see daylight." + +"So do I, so do I!" cried Anna Fleming; "and another thing,--I am not +ashamed to ask Kate ignorant questions." + +"Nor I," declared Myra; and then they all laughed, and Myra followed up +the laugh by immediately proceeding to ask two or three of these +"ignorant questions,"--the first being, "If Spain had possession of +Breda, what does it mean by the Italian infantry and cavalry being there +to defend it?" + +"It means that at that time," answered Kate, "Philip II., called Philip +the Prudent, had possession of the better portion of Italy, with other +territory that he had gobbled up, and so, of course, he made use of +Italian soldiers." + +"Who was Lewis William?" + +"He was the stadt of Friesland,--Friesland was part of the Netherlands." + +"Oh, and what became of the dare-devil skipper,--Van der Berg,--your +ancestor?" + +"Oh, he didn't come to anything wonderful,--he 'fought and bled' in +freedom's cause like most of those Dutchmen, I suppose." + +"But there was a family of Van _den_ Bergs who were cousins to Maurice," +here spoke up Hope. "Were these any relations to Van der Berg, the +skipper?" + +"Oh, no,--we didn't descend from princes and counts," laughed Kate. + +"I don't believe but that it _is_ the Van den you belong to, anyway," +said Anna. + +"Nonsense," cried Kate; "if we 'belong,' as you say, to a family of that +early day, it is to the dare-devil Van der Bergs, and that's good enough +for me. My brother Schuyler ought to hear you give preference to the Van +_den_ Bergs. He would be ready to fight a duel with you; for, from a +little boy, he has been perfectly enchanted with that story of the +dare-devil, and when we were all at home five years ago,--little things +of ten and eleven and twelve,--we used to play the story, and we called +it 'The Siege of Breda.' It was when we were up at our summer place on +the Hudson. It was such fun. We had a queer little cottage on the place, +that had a lot of gables and turrets. It was unoccupied, except as a +sort of storehouse for fruit; and this cottage we called 'the castle.' A +rather wide stream of water runs through the grounds, and broadens out +into a sort of miniature lake at the foot of the garden. It was just +across this broader part, where it was also quite deep, that the cottage +showed its turrets and gables, and we got the gardener and one of the +stable men to build up a sort of palisade of bricks and stones and +boards all about it. Inside this we made a guard-house, and the arsenal +was in the castle itself. Then we knew an old sailor who fixed up our +little yacht, made a cabin and hold, where the boys crept in,--the boys +who represented the attacking party, the seventy Hollanders,--and we +packed around them a lot of dry moss we had prepared, to represent turf. +Mr. Brown--our old sailor--also fixed up something that did duty for a +water-gate. Well, when we had got everything as near to our minds as +possible, we dressed ourselves up in our costumes,--oh, yes, we had +regular costumes. My uncle Schuyler said it was a real history lesson +for us, and he should do all he could to help it along; and so he hunted +up some books that had the illustrations of the costumes of that time, +and we got mamma and a seamstress we had to help us make up suits for +us." + +"And did _you_ take part?" asked Myra. + +"Did _I_ take part? Well, I should think I did. _I_ was Captain Charles +de Heraugiere, if you please. And oh, the cunning little suit I had,--a +regular fighting suit of imitation leather and a rough-looking sort of +stuff like frieze, and a sort of waistcoat of chamois skin, and then a +dear little hat with a feather;--oh, and boots with tops that came 'way +up to the knee-bend. We made the tops ourselves of mock leather, russet +color, and sewed them to our russet shoes. Oh, it was _such_ fun!" + +"But your brother--what character did he take?" + +"Oh, there was but one character that _he_ would take, and that was the +dare-devil boatman who stood on the deck and joked with the purchasers +of the peat. You should have seen Schuyler as he did it. It was +moonlight, for mamma and papa wouldn't let us play it as we wanted to on +a dark night, for there might be an accident; but we ran the boat down +by some sheltering bushes, and the boys who took the part of the +purchasers from the castle stood in the lighter place where the +moonlight fell, and that left the place where our hidden soldiers were +quite dusky and mysterious. But Schuyler stood in the light, the moon +shining straight in his face. His suit was a good deal rougher than +mine, but a good deal like it; only he had a cap on, and that was pushed +back, and he looked so handsome and bold when he joked and laughed and +answered the purchasers. Then when we soldiers stole out of the ship +where we were in hiding--What! how could I see Schuyler when I was +hidden? Oh, I peeped through the moss. And how many boys had we? Oh, +twenty in all,--about eight in the boat,--it wouldn't hold any more; but +the eight of them made _such_ a show in their costumes. They were all +our neighbors and close friends, the whole twenty of them. Four were the +Dyker brothers, and the Burton boys with _their_ cousins who had come up +a-visiting them from Philadelphia; and there were our boys and the Van +Loons and Delmars to make up the twenty. But, as I was saying, when we +soldiers stole up out of the vessel, and I marched at the head of my +band, the dare-devil _would_ lead the way. I told him it was all out of +order, but he declared that Captain Heraugiere _couldn't_ know the way +as the dare-devil who had carried the peat so often must know it, and +that of course he must be guided; so I had to give in. + +"We started our play at the point where the officer of the guard puts off +from the castle in a skiff, and comes on board our vessel; then, after +that, we slip down through the water-gate,--of course we don't have any +leak,--the Burton boys and the Van Loons come to the shore and drag us +into the harbor and make the vessel fast, close to the guard-house. It +was just after that, you know, that the dare-devil receives the +purchasers, and goes through all that joking and sending the people off, +saying that he was tired. And then I followed as Captain Heraugiere; and +what do you think!--Schuyler at first wanted to be Captain Heraugiere +too. He said he could easily manage it; but it was when he found he +wouldn't be allowed to gobble up the two characters, he insisted upon +showing the captain the way, and so he stuck to me all through, +flourishing his wooden sword on the slightest excuse. But how we did lay +about us! Whack, whack, we knocked over the Burtons, and all the rest of +the Italians, with the young Lanzavecchia at their head; and then came +the great end of the victory, the arrival of Hohenlo with the vanguard +of Maurice's troops, and then Prince Maurice himself with his fine +attendants,--his counts and admirals, and these were the Van Loons and +the Burtons again, who had rigged themselves up in other clothes,--nice +honest Dutch clothes to play the Netherlander parts. So we turned and +twisted our twenty boys, just as they do on the stage, and you'd have +thought there were a host of them. Well, when the vanguard arrived, we +all joined together and marched into the town--that is, around our +grounds and into the castle, the Dyker brothers, who are musical, +playing the national air with a drum and fife and cornet, and some of +the rest of us, breaking out now and then at the top of our voices into +the chorus,-- + + 'Wilhelmus van Nassouwen + Ben ick van Duytsem bloed,' + +which means, + + 'William from Nassau, + I am from German blood.' + +William from Nassau, you know, was the great Prince of Orange. + +"And marching to this playing and singing, we entered the castle,--our +cottage,--where a table had been set with a lot of Dutch dainties, made +by our German cook, Wilhelmina, who had lived in Holland and knew +everything about the dear little Dutch cakes and things they eat there. +Then, after we had partaken of the feast, the table was carried out, and +we danced to our heart's content. Oh, we did have such a good time, and +we kept it up every year until we got too old for it." + +"What fun it _must_ have been!" cried Myra. "I wish I could have been +there; but didn't you have any other girl but yourself in the play with +those twenty boys?" + +"No, not in the play; but we had plenty of girls as spectators and at +the feast and dancing." + +"And did you ever make a play out of any other historical incident?" +asked Anna Fleming. + +"Yes, several; and I think that is the reason why historical events +became so fixed in my mind, and I got so interested in reading history. +It began by accident, as you might say,--that is, by Schuyler's delight +in the Van der Berg story, and insisting on playing it. It's the best +way in the world, let me tell you, to play history like this,--it +teaches you more than any ordinary study possibly can, and you find that +through it you get events and epochs perfectly clear in your mind, and +everything by and by spreads out before you like reality." + +"I wish Miss Marr would let us have history lessons this way," said +Myra. + +"Perhaps she will, some time, if Kate tells her what she has told us," +said Anna, hopefully; "and you _will_ tell her some time, won't you, +Kate?" + +"Yes, I'll tell her, but I don't think it is the thing to do in school +days; you ought to get it up in the summer, during vacations. It would +interfere with other studies to go into all the preparation and work of +such performances in school." + +"Did you ever like any other of your plays as well as the Siege?" asked +Hope. + +"No, never; but what made you ask that, Hope?" + +"Because it was so stirring and out-door-sy, and the boatman was so +jolly and brave, I thought it wasn't possible that there could have been +another story quite so playable as that." + +"I said the Van der Bergs were proud of only one thing,--this +performance of the boatman; but there was another of our ancestors of a +later day who is very interesting, I think, and just as plucky and brave +in another way." + +"Oh!" ejaculated Anna Fleming, with such an air of anticipation that +they all laughed, for they all knew Anna's weakness for ancestors; and +this "Oh," said very plainly, "Now we are to hear of something more +worth while than an old boatman, something probably about those +aristocratic Knickerbocker ancestors of Kate's." + +Kate herself, thoroughly appreciating Anna's state of mind, went on +demurely: "This ancestor was my mother's great-great-grandfather. He was +the son of a small farmer in England, and he came to New York a poor +boy, with only a few shillings in his pocket; and with these few +shillings he started, and, working at all sorts of things,--as a +stevedore, and anything else he could find to do,--he at last worked his +way up to a little clerkship in a little mercantile house, and from +there he climbed step by step into a bigger clerkship, in the same +little house, and then step by step into a clerkship in a big house, +until after a while, after all sorts of working and waiting and +hardships, he came to be at the head of the big house, and one of the +first merchants of the day in New York. We have in our family now one of +those English shillings that he brought over and saved for luck when he +was working on the wharves, and we keep it for luck; and there +is a packet of old letters and a diary he kept, telling the +whole story, that we have too. Oh, yes, we are very proud of our +great-great-great-grandfather, I can tell you," smiling up at the girls. + +"But where did those lovely old shoe-buckles and gold buttons, and that +old silver with the V. der B. engraved on it, that I saw when I visited +you,--where did those come from, if that boatman was the only Dutch +ancestor you had that you were proud of?" anxiously and disappointedly +asked Anna here. + +"Oh, they came from some of the later V. der B.'s; some descendants that +had nothing specially interesting about them,--were not heroes of any +kind, but just rich old burghers." + +"But weren't they what are called the Knickerbocker families?" + +"Yes; but you know how that name came to be given to them, don't you?" + +"No, not exactly," answered Anna, shamefacedly. + + +"And _I_ haven't the least idea. I know I ought to know, but I don't," +burst out Myra, blithely and boldly; "so do tell us." + +"Well, it came about in this way. Washington Irving wrote a burlesque +history of New York,--that is, it was a burlesque on a pompous handbook +of the city, that had just been published. He called it 'A History of +New York from the beginning of the world to the end of the Dutch +Dynasty, by Diedrich Knickerbocker.' + +"He made up the name of Knickerbocker probably, as people now make up a +name for a _nom de plume_. But at the time by a facetious advertisement, +such as Hawthorne might have written at a later day,--an advertisement +'inquiring for a small, elderly gentleman, dressed in an old black coat +and cocked hat, by the name of Knickerbocker, who was said to have +disappeared from the Columbus Hotel in Mulberry Street, and left behind +a very curious kind of a written book,'--he fooled some of those Dutch +ancestors of mine into thinking that this was a veritable Dutch name, +and that this old gentleman was a veritable owner of the name, and +writer of the History of New York, which they thought was meant for a +veritable history. Then some of them finding it was a burlesque were +seriously offended, and made a great fuss about it; but in spite of all +this, the name stuck, and as it was really meant as a sort of +interpretation of the aristocratic Dutch character, it was after a while +accepted as a title for the descendants of the old Dutch burghers, and +so grew into a term for the gentry or aristocratic class. That is all +there is to it." + +"Well, then, that proves that you _are_ from the Dutch gentry,--an old +Knickerbocker family!" exclaimed Anna, in a tone of satisfaction, that +brought forth a perfect shout of laughter from Kate, and after the +laughter the immediate answer, "Oh, yes; and the New York head of this +old Knickerbocker family of mine kept a shop down near the wharves, +where he bought and sold flour and molasses, just as that dear old Joris +Van Heemskirk did in Mrs. Barr's dear, delightful story, 'The Bow of +Orange Ribbon.' In trade, you see,--shopkeepers!" and Kate nodded her +head and laughed again, as she looked at Anna, who had a silly way +sometimes of talking as she had heard some English people talk of +"people in trade." + +But Anna, who did not like to be laughed at, any more than the rest of +us, retorted here: "It will do for you to go on in this way about +family, and ancestors, and all that. _You_ can afford to tell the truth +because you _do_ belong and _have_ belonged, or your family has +belonged, for years to the upper class; but if you had only just come up +from--from--" + +"Selling flour and molasses," struck in Kate, mischievously. + +"No, I did not mean that, for I suppose things were different then; but +if you belonged to new rich people,--people who had just made money, +people who had been common working-people, mechanics, or something of +that sort,--you wouldn't talk like this, you'd keep still." + + +"Yes, if I belonged to common working-people, people whose minds were +common and vulgar; but how if I belonged to working-people like George +Stephenson, the father of English railways, and the locomotive? Oh, +Anna, _don't_ you remember we had to study up about Watt and Boulton and +the Stephensons last term in connection with our applied-science +lessons?" + +"Last term!" cried Anna; "you can't expect _me_ to remember everything I +studied up on, last term. Things like that don't stick in my mind as +they do in yours." + +"Well, you ought to remember about George Stephenson, who was the son of +a fireman of a colliery engine in England, and how he worked up, and +educated himself, and finally constructed the steam locomotive that made +him famous, and led to his being employed in the construction of the +Liverpool and Manchester Railway. And there was his son Robert, who +followed in his father's footsteps and became an authority on everything +connected with railways and engines; and then there was James Watt, who +preceded them as the inventor of the condensing steam-engine for +manufacturing purposes, which led the way to Stephenson's locomotive. +Watt was only a poor boy, the son of a small trader in Scotland, and was +an apprentice to a philosophical-instrument maker, where he worked so +hard and lived so poorly that he nearly lost his health. Do you think +that men like these wouldn't dare to talk about their humble beginnings? +Do you think _they_ would keep still, or do you think their families +would keep still, because they were ashamed of the humble beginnings? +No, no, not unless they were miserable cowards and didn't know what to +be proud of, and that indeed would make them dirt common and vulgar, and +not deserving their good fortune." + +"Well, I wasn't thinking of geniuses, of course. I don't suppose that +anybody who was connected with such people as you speak of would be +ashamed exactly of the 'humble beginnings,' as you call them,--the +people _I_ mean are the ordinary people, who have just come up from +nowhere, with a lot of money made out of--" + +"Flour and molasses; yes, I see--you think the molasses sticks to them, +and they pretend to ignore it. Well, all I've got to say is that I do so +hate cowardice, I think, if I were in their places, with the molasses so +new and sticky, that I should blurt out, 'Molasses! molasses!' if +anybody so much as _looked_ at me attentively. But goodness, girls, do +you know what time it is?" + +"Half-past eight," guessed Myra and Anna, confidently. + +"Half-past eight! you geese, it's half-past nine." + +There was a chorus of "Oh's" and "Ah's," and then a general good-night +and scampering off to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +It was very late before Hope fell asleep that night. Generally sleep +came to her quickly while Myra dawdled and pottered about, until the +lights were put out. But on this night Myra, from her little bed in the +opposite corner of the room, heard her usually quiet room-mate tossing +and turning in a very restless fashion. + +"What in the world is the matter with you, Hope?" she asked her at +length. "Are you ill?" + +"Ill? Oh, no; I'm only a little restless," Hope answered. "I am sorry I +disturbed you,--I'll try to be quieter." + +"Oh, you didn't disturb me, Hope,--such a little thing as that wouldn't +disturb me,--but I thought you must have something the matter with you, +you are such a mouse generally. You're sure there isn't anything the +matter?" + +"Yes, quite sure." + +"Not even Dorothea?" + +"Not even Dorothea? What do you mean?" + +"Well, I didn't know but you had Dorothea on your mind,--that you might +be worrying over her persecution of you,--her determination to make you +play that duet with her," said Myra, laughing. + +"Oh, no, I don't worry over Dorothea," answered Hope, laughing a little +herself at this suggestion. + +"How Kate _does_ dislike her!" exclaimed Myra. + +"Dislike Dorothea?" cried Hope, startled at this strong assertion. + +"Well, I should say so; and you don't like her any better, either, +Hope-y dear. _I_ think that you and Kate know something about her that +the rest of us don't, for I've noticed from the very first that you were +very distant to her." + +"'Know something about her!' Now, Myra, just because I was not pleased +with Dorothea's ways and have held off from playing duets with her, you +take that extraordinary notion into your head. 'Know something about +her!' Of course, you mean by that, something to her disadvantage. I know +just what you all know, that she is the daughter of the Hon. Mr. Dering +of Boston. What I know to her disadvantage is her lack of good manners, +and that you all know. There, if that isn't enough--" + +"Oh, it is, it is, Hope-y, do forgive me, that's a dear; I was only half +in fun, anyway. I feel just as you and Kate do about Dorothea; her +manners are horrid, horrid,--so forward and consequential." + +"But I do hope _I_ haven't influenced you to feel in this way, Myra; +that is, that my manner--" + +"No, no, I didn't like her ways at the very first,--they are so +domineering. I dare say the outside is the worst of her, though, and +that very likely she may be good-hearted. But there's Kate Van der Berg, +_she's_ good-hearted, and has good manners too; and isn't she jolly, +Hope? Wasn't it fun to hear her go on with Anna about the flour and +molasses? And, Hope, I do believe that she would do just as she said, if +_she_ were a new rich person,--that is, if she were the kind of girl she +is now. She would just come right out with the flour and molasses,--talk +about everything perfectly frankly, because she hates anything that +looks like being ashamed, anything that looks like cowardice. Yes, I do +believe she would. But _I_ couldn't, could you?" + +There was no answer to this question; and after a moment or two, Myra +looked across at the motionless figure clearly outlined in the +moonlight, and thought, "She's gone to sleep." + +But Hope had not gone to sleep. She was never more widely awake in her +life than she was when Myra asked her question,--never more widely awake +and never more unhappy; for as she lay there motionless and silent, she +knew that she was acting a lie because she did not want to answer that +question,--a question that was almost the same that she had been asking +herself ever since she had listened to Kate's emphatic arraignment of +cowards; for from that moment she had said to herself: "I wonder if I am +not just this kind of a coward, because I have kept silent before these +girls,--have not told them that I belonged to the new rich people,--that +my father was a poor mechanic, and that I--had sold mayflowers at the +Brookside station? Kate would have told them long ago, I suppose, if she +had been in my place. She'd say I was 'dirt common' and vulgar not to +speak of father,--that I ought to be so proud of him that I couldn't +help speaking. And I _am_ proud of him,--I am, I am, nobody could be +prouder,--it isn't that I'm in any way ashamed of anything,--of +_anything_,--the engineer cab, the workman's clothes, or the +flower-selling; but--but, oh, I couldn't talk about it to those +girls,--they have never known what it was to live differently from the +way they live now, and they would stare at me, as if I were a curiosity, +something unlike themselves, and they'd have so many questions to ask, +because it would all be so odd to them; and then there is Dorothea now, +to make it worse,--Dorothea would take all the dignity out of anything; +and how she would go on about the mayflowers and our quarrel, and +exclaim and wonder and laugh! No, no, I can't bring all this on +myself,--it may be very cowardly of me, but I can't, I can't." + +Agitated by thoughts like these, it was not strange that sleep failed to +come quickly to Hope that night, and that, in consequence, she should +look heavy-eyed and pale the next morning, and that, in further +consequence, Miss Marr, who was very observant, should say: "What is the +matter, Hope? You don't look well." And when Hope had no answer to give +but that she was restless and didn't sleep very well, Miss Marr glanced +at her rather anxiously, and said admonishingly, "I'm afraid you've been +studying too hard, Hope. You haven't? Then you must be homesick." But +when Hope assured her that she couldn't be homesick in _her_ house, Miss +Marr, laughingly declaring that she was a little flatterer, came to the +conclusion that there was nothing amiss that the week's vacation so near +at hand and the New Year festivities would not rectify. + +Where Hope was to spend her week's vacation had been a matter of some +consideration. She would have gone to her grandmother Benham up in the +New Hampshire hills if the distance at that season of the year had not +been an objection. Miss Marr, too, would gladly have kept her little +favorite with her; and there was Kate Van der Berg pining for her +company, backed by Mrs. Van der Berg's cordial note of invitation; and +the Sibleys also--the friends whom the Benhams had met abroad, and who +had spoken to Miss Marr so admiringly of John Benham's "dearest little +daughter"--had entreated her to come to them. Another invitation was +from the Benhams' old neighbors and friends,--the Kolbs. All these +invitations had been received by Hope early in November, and she had +immediately sent them to her parents in Paris, with a little note of her +own, that simply said, without a word of her own personal preference: "I +want you to tell me which place you would rather I would choose. _I_ +like them all." + +Mr. and Mrs. Benham laughed as they read these words. They laughed +because this was so like Hope. When she was quite a little girl, her +mother had thought it would be a good plan to teach her to be careful in +her selections, by making her choose entirely for herself what she would +like, and abiding by that choice for the time being. Hope was delighted +with this plan at first. She fancied that with such liberty she was +going to have a very happy time; but after she had made several +mistakes, had chosen what had brought her, if not serious disappointment +and discomfort, a knowledge that she had much better have chosen +differently, she hit upon a little change of plan; and this was to +submit to her mother and father whatever was set before her for her +choosing, with the provision that they should give her the benefit of +their opinions, while still leaving her her own liberty of choice. They +were very much amused at this proposed change, but readily consented to +its being tried; and the trial, on the whole, had turned out very +satisfactorily, the child only upon rare occasions, when greatly tempted +by some special predilection, going against the parental opinion. The +odd plan thus childishly begun had settled into a fixed habit, though as +Hope had grown older it had become little more than an interchange of +opinions. On the present occasion, however, the girl had very evidently +gone back to her first idea, for it was quite plain to both father and +mother that while she had some special predilection for _one_ of these +invitations, she did not want to betray it, as she wanted a perfectly +unbiassed opinion from them,--or, in other words, wanted to know _their_ +preference before she acknowledged her own; and this Mr. Benham decided +at once not to give. "I will write to her that she must make her choice +quite independent of us," he said to his wife. "There can be no harm in +her accepting any one of these invitations, but what we want to know now +is the bias of her own mind." + +John Benham, as well as his wife, had tried, from the very first of +their change of fortunes, to keep Hope untouched by the temptations of +sudden wealth; and one of their fears in regard to the New York school +had been that Hope would meet there girls whose influence might be of a +worldly and fashionable nature. But Miss Marr's reputation for right +thinking and right doing had carried the day over all these fears, and +they had seen no reason from term to term to regret this decision. It +was with no little curiosity, then, coupled with some anxiety, that she +and her husband awaited Hope's choice of invitations. She had now been a +pupil of Miss Marr's a year, a year in close association with the young +people in the school. The parents had seen her twice in this time, and +she had seemed to them the same child Hope. Her letters, too, gave them +very satisfactory accounts of her school life and companions. In all +these accounts the name of Kate Van der Berg held a prominent place, and +they could see that this friend was of more importance to Hope than any +of the other girls. When, therefore, they pondered over Mrs. Van der +Berg's invitation, with its hints of luxurious entertainment, they +thought it quite natural that any girl should choose to accept it. Then, +too, there was Mrs. Sibley, with _her_ offer of hospitality in a fine +house where the visitor would be petted and made much of. If not to the +Van der Bergs', would not any ordinary girl choose to go to this +delightsome place? The Kolbs could offer nothing like this hospitality. +Their house at Riverview was small, their means not large, and their +acquaintance, outside the musicians with whom the old violinist was +brought in contact, very limited, and in this limited acquaintance there +were no young people, except Mr. Kolb's nephew and his little German +wife. But the old violinist's heart was full of warm regard for the +little maedchen whom he had taught for love five years ago, and what he +did offer was out of the fulness of this regard, as the following quaint +letter will show:-- + + MY DEAR LITTLE MAeDCHEN,--The good frau and myself have wondered + for long time if the little maedchen remembers the Christmas Day + when she stood beside Papa Kolb, to help him strip the + Christmas tree; and if she remembers, the good frau and myself + wonders if she would not like to stand by Papa Kolb again and + strip a Christmas Tree that shall grow up purposely for her if + she will come to Papa Kolb's house for the holiday week that is + near at hand. The good frau will take best care of the little + maedchen. She shall have the blue and white chamber with the + little porcelain stove, and the good frau will herself make for + her the little cakes she likes so well, and Papa Kolb will make + his violin sing the music that they both love. + +"How _can_ the child resist this letter?" exclaimed Mr. Benham, as he +laid it down after reading it twice over. + +"Yes; but you might have asked the same question after reading Mrs. +Sibley's and Mrs. Van der Berg's, with their cordial offers of Christmas +dances and performances," said Mrs. Benham. + +"Yes, I might, but I didn't," replied Mr. Benham, with a smile. + +"No, you didn't; but you must remember though, John, that to Hope, +Christmas dances and matinee performances in a big city must naturally +be more attractive than they are to you." + +"Oh, yes, yes, of course; and it's of course, I suppose, that any young +girl would naturally prefer the fine gay things that fine gay people can +offer to the more humdrum things that the Kolbs can give." + +It will readily be seen, from this little conversation, where John +Benham's preference lay in this question of invitations; and as a matter +of fact, Mrs. Benham's interests were in the same quarter. They both +leaned very strongly to Papa Kolb's affectionate home offer, but they +were both agreed in their resolve that they would say nothing to Hope of +their feeling. + +In this way they looked to find out the natural bias of the girl's mind, +and ascertain exactly the direction that her tastes and inclinations +were now taking. But as Mrs. Benham read over again the notes from the +Van der Bergs and Sibleys, she felt that it was absurd for her to expect +that a young creature like Hope would turn from such attractions to the +Kolbs, and she told her husband so. Like the man of sense that he was, +Mr. Benham admitted the truth of his wife's conclusions. It was but a +step from this admission to a final agreement that Hope of course, thus +left to herself, would choose the New York gayeties, like any other +girl; and when her next letter arrived, Mrs. Benham ran her little pearl +paper-cutter through the envelope, with the remark, "Now we shall hear +all about the fine preparations for the fine doings at the Van der +Bergs', for I am quite sure it will be to Kate Van der Berg and not to +Mrs. Sibley that the child has chosen to go; and I do hope that Miss +Marr has seen to her preparations, and helped her to choose some new +things, if she needs them. And she must need a new gown or two, and +gloves, and perhaps a fresh wrap, going about as she will with the Van +der Bergs to the holiday entertainments. I told Miss Marr when we came +away, to order anything that Hope needed, if at any time--" + +There was a sudden cessation of Mrs. Benham's voice; then after a +moment: "John, John, what do you think!--" + +Mr. Benham looked up from his desk, where he was busy studying the plan +of a new French locomotive. + +"What do you think, John? She isn't going to the Van der Bergs'!" + +"She prefers the Sibleys, then; well, they'll be very good to her." + +"No, she doesn't prefer the Sibleys,--it's the Kolbs, after all. Do +listen to her letter!" and Mrs. Benham read aloud:-- + + DEAR PAPA AND MAMMA,--I'm going to the Kolbs'. I wanted to go + the minute I got Papa Kolb's dear kind invitation; but when on + the very same morning I received the two others, I thought I + would send them all off to you, hoping that you would say that + you would like to have me go to the Kolbs'. But when your + answer came, and I knew that I must make my own choice quite + independently of you, I wrote at once to Mrs. Van der Berg and + to Mrs. Sibley, that I had had an invitation from some old + friends who had known me from a little child and been very kind + to me, and I loved them very much, and felt that I must go to + them. + + I told Kate what I had written, and I told her something about + the Kolbs, and that Papa Kolb had been my first teacher; and + she laughed, and said that nobody need expect to get me away + from a fiddler. And she is quite right when the fiddler is Mr. + Kolb. I love Kate Van der Berg dearly, and so would you if you + knew her; and if you had heard her talk the other day about the + right and the wrong kind of pride of ancestry, you would admire + her very much. And I love Mrs. Sibley too, and if there had + been no invitation from the Kolbs, I should have been very glad + to have gone to her or to Kate. But the Kolbs are like--well, + like--like my very own. They have known me so long and I have + known them so long that I feel at home with them all the time; + and then the fiddles and the music and the Christmas + Tree--everything there is what I love best. + +Mr. Benham forgot for the moment the locomotive plan that lay before +him, as he listened to this portion of his daughter's letter; and when +his wife put the letter down and said, "We needn't be afraid of Hope's +being spoiled by these fine people, John," his eyes lighted up, as he +replied smilingly,-- + +"Hope is set to a home tune, Martha, that she is never going to forget." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +Dolly Dering was beating time with her fan to the closing passages of +the Mendelssohn concerto, when she suddenly caught sight of Hope Benham, +three seats before her. Dolly's quick start, and a smothered "Oh!" +excited the curiosity of her companion,--a young cousin of hers,--Jimmy +Dering, who, following the direction and expression of her eyes, +whispered,-- + +"What's the matter with her, Dolly?" + +Dolly made no reply, but continued to stare, and, Jimmy repeating his +question, Dolly whispered back: "'Matter with her'? That girl I was +looking at? Nothing; what do you mean?" + +"You looked so astonished I thought she was a ghost, or that something +was the matter with her." + +Dolly giggled under her breath, and whispered: "No, it's only that I was +so surprised to see her here in Music Hall. She is one of the girls from +my school,--Hope Benham. I thought she was going to stay in New York +this week with the Van der Bergs,--awful swells! I wonder who she's +visiting here." + +"Some other 'awful swells,'--Boston swells, I suppose. She looks that +way herself. Why didn't you invite her to stay with you, Dolly?" + +"I should as soon have thought of inviting Bunker Hill Monument,--though +I like her,--sort of--she's stiffish, but fascinating, and plays the +violin like--_Oh_!" with an emphatic emphasis, to convey the +inexpressible. + +"Like 'Oh'! You must waylay her and introduce me to her, Dolly. I want +to know any girl who plays the violin like 'Oh.' I never heard it played +like that. Say, Dolly--" + +"H--ush!" breathed Jimmy's mother, Mrs. Mark Dering, shaking her head at +the two whisperers, as the violin solo began. Jimmy, who was +enthusiastically fond of the music of the violin, was now quite willing +to be hushed, and, leaning back, gave himself up to silent enjoyment. +Toward the close of the exquisite strains he happened to glance at the +girl three seats in front of him. Her lips were slightly parted, her +eyes were shining, her whole attitude expressive of the deepest delight. + +"How she _does_ like it, and how she knows music!" thought Jimmy. "I'd +like to hear _her_ play the violin. I wonder if I can't manage it. I +mean to make Dolly introduce me to her." + +Hope was pulling up her little sealskin cloak at the end of the concert, +when she heard a voice say: "How de do, Hope? I never was so surprised +in my life as when I saw you here. I thought Kate Van der Berg had +invited you to stay with her through the vacation." + +[Illustration: "HOW DE DO, HOPE?"] + +The "deep delight" on Hope's face vanished as if by magic as she heard +this; and as she turned to the speaker, Jimmy said to himself: + +"My! how she _does_ dislike Dolly!" + +When, in the next breath, Dolly repeated, "I thought Kate Van der Berg +invited you to stay with her," Jimmy, who was a little gentleman with +much tact and taste, groaned in spirit: "How could she; oh, how _could_ +Dolly put the thing in that way? As if--as if a girl had only to be +invited by a Kate Van der Berg to accept! As if she couldn't refuse a +Kate Van der Berg, or anybody--such a girl as this!" + +But the next instant Jimmy's groan had become a chuckle as he heard this +girl say: "Yes, Kate invited me to spend my vacation with her, but I had +older friends than the Van der Bergs." + +Not much in the words, but, oh, the way they were spoken,--the tone, the +little straight stare at Dolly! Jimmy, little gentleman though he was, +had a wild desire to throw up his cap and "hurrah" as he looked and +listened. "It was all such a set-down for Dolly," as he told his mother +later. But Dolly didn't seem to mind it much. She colored a bit, and +then she laughed, and then before Hope could make a move away from her, +she was introducing her to "my cousin, Jimmy Dering;" and Jimmy, tactful +little fellow, began to speak in his soft, sweet voice that was like the +G string of a violin, of the music they had been listening to; and he +spoke so intelligently and appreciatively that Hope could not but be +interested; and when, by the greatest good luck in the world for him, he +asked her if she had noticed the beautiful expression on the face of the +first violinist when he played, and then proceeded to tell her that this +violinist was a German, and that his name was Kolb, and that he was a +real genius, Hope turned such a radiant face towards the boy that he was +quite taken aback at the first start; then he thought to himself, "She +appreciates old Kolb as well as we do;" and delighted at this, was going +on to say more, when Dolly's voice again broke in with,-- + +"Hope, I want to introduce you to my aunt, Mrs. Dering. This is Miss +Hope Benham, auntie, one of the girls at my school." + +"_My school!_" Jimmy groaned again when he heard this; and as he +observed Hope's sudden stiffening and coolness, he inwardly exclaimed: +"I shall never hear this girl play if Dolly goes on like this, with +'_my_ school,' and that my-everything-way of hers!" + +But when Mrs. Dering came up with that pretty manner, and said that she +was always glad to meet one of Miss Marr's girls, Jimmy breathed easier; +and when she asked Hope if she was fond of music, and Dolly burst out, +"Fond? You wouldn't ask that question if you could hear Hope play the +violin," Jimmy took courage and said,-- + +"Mother, if Miss Benham would only come to our Monday night musicale!" + +"Yes, to be sure," cried Mrs. Dering, delighted at the suggestion. If +Hope was a musical genius, she might perhaps be interested to help them, +for the musicale was for a charity. That she was one of Miss Marr's +girls spoke for her desirability in all other ways. It had got to be a +sort of voucher to be one of Miss Marr's girls. + +"And if you have your violin with you--she's got a wonderful violin, +auntie--and will bring it, and play something for us--it's for a +charity, you know--" + +"Yes, if you would, it would be so kind of you; the charity is such a +worthy one,--a little kindergarten bed at the children's hospital," took +up Mrs. Dering, persuasively. + +"I haven't my violin with me; and--" + +"Oh, well, that needn't make any difference. I have two, and you can +have one of mine," interrupted Dolly, with perfect confidence. + +"And I have an engagement on Wednesday to another musicale, or rather a +concert," said Hope, finishing the answer that Dolly had so confidently +interrupted. + +"But can't you come and see _me_ some day and--if you'll tell me where +you're staying I'll call on you--I'll call and fetch you any day you'll +say, and Jimmy'll come, and we'll all play together--Jimmy plays very +well." + +Dolly, with this, pulled out a little tablet, and fixing her eyes on it +in a business-like way, said, "Now, then, give me your address; and--" + +"It would be of no use, I cannot come to you, for I return to New York +Thursday morning." + +"But it's only Saturday now--there's four days to Thursday--if you'd say +Monday or Tuesday." + +"I am engaged Monday and Tuesday,--you must excuse me--Ah!" with an air +of relief, "there's Mr. Kolb, I must bid you good-by;" and with a very +polite bow, including the three,--Mrs. Dering, her son, and Dolly,--and +with a very small smile, Hope made her escape, and hastened towards Mr. +Kolb. + +"She _knows_ old Kolb, after all," exclaimed Jimmy, in astonishment. + +"She knows all the musical people that were ever born, _I_ believe," +snapped out Dolly; "stiff as she is, she's just crazy over musical +folks. But did you ever see anybody so stiff and offish as she was?" + +"I never saw anybody so persistent as _you_ were, Dolly; you fairly +pushed her into stiffness and offishness. You asked her to help in the +musicale as if it would be simply a privilege for _her_, and then, when +anybody could see with half an eye she didn't want to come and didn't +mean to come, you went at her in the same way about coming to _you_, +whipping out that tablet with a 'Now, then, give an account of yourself' +air that was--that was--" But Jimmy could find no words to express +adequately his feelings on this point, and finished up suddenly in his +wrath and disappointment, "Dolly, you are the biggest bully I ever met. +If you were a boy amongst boys, you'd get a licking!" + +"Children, children, stop quarrelling, right here in public!" admonished +Mrs. Dering, in a low, shocked tone. + +"'Tisn't me that's quarrelling," said Dolly, regardless of grammar and +in a tearful sniffle. "Jimmy's always setting me up to do things for +him, and then he's al-al-always finding fault with the way I do 'em," +Dolly went on, in a still more tearful sniffle. + +"Setting you up to do things for him? What did he set you up to do now?" +asked her aunt. + +"To introduce him to Hope. He wanted to know her, he wanted to hear her +play; and I"--sniff, sniff, sniff--"I--" + +"Well, there, never mind; tell me when we get into the carriage," broke +in Mrs. Dering, mindful of the proprieties, as she saw several persons +observing Dolly. + +"Yes, don't cry on the street,--you might get taken up for a nuisance, +Dol; a policeman's got his eye on you now," growled Jimmy, with a savage +little grin. Dolly had a queer, childish way of accepting everything +seriously sometimes; and the startled seriousness of her face at this +was too much for Jimmy's gravity, and he burst into a fit of laughter +that cleared the atmosphere not a little, and made Dolly herself forget +to sniffle. She forgot also to air her grievance against Jimmy, when, as +they were seated in the carriage, her aunt said animatedly,-- + +"Benham--I wonder if this girl is the daughter of a Mr. and Mrs. Benham +I met when I was in Paris." + +"Her father and mother are in Paris now; that is the reason why Hope +doesn't spend her vacations with them," said Dolly. + +"This Mr. Benham was a distinguished scientific man of some sort, I +believe. He was distinguished for _something_, I know, and he was with +scientific men. I met him at Professor Hervey's, and he came into the +room, I remember, with two or three English gentlemen of note. I +recollect it, because I know I felt quite proud at the time that he was +an American,--he looked so manly and earnest,--and some one told me he +had just had a fortune come to him." + +"Well, Hope's father must have a lot of money, for she's got a violin +that cost enough. It's a regular Cremona." + +"No!" exclaimed Jimmy, incredulously. + +"Yes; she told me it was made by an Italian who was a pupil of +Stradivari and lived in Cremona." + +"You don't say so!" cried Jimmy, excitedly. "How I should like to see +it, for I tell you to see a real old Cremona would be worth while. Lots +of people think they've got a Cremona, when it's only an imitation. Karl +Myerwitz, who makes violins, and knows all about them, told me that if +everybody who claims to have a Cremona violin, _really_ had one, the +number of them would count up to twice as many as had ever been made." + +"Well, all I know is that Hope told me that her violin was made in +seventeen hundred and something by a pupil of Stradivari." + +"Where did her father get it, do you know,--did she tell you that?" + +"An old teacher of hers got it,--a German who has a brother who deals in +rare violins in Paris." + +"How soon did she begin to take lessons?" + +"Oh, when she was quite a little girl." + +"What kind of music--whose compositions, I mean, does she play?" + +Dolly rattled off what she knew of Hope's repertoire. + + +"Well, she _must_ have been at it from a small youngster," ejaculated +Jimmy, emphatically, at the list Dolly gave. "And she must have a +great--a _great_ taste for music. The idea of your thinking I would play +with any one who was up to what she is!" + +"But you play very well,--you play better than I do." + +"What's that to do with it? You don't mean to say that you think--that +you propose--" But Jimmy stopped short, remembering the recent outbreak +of sniffles and tears. But he had gone far enough for Dolly to +understand, and she took up his words, not tearfully, but indignantly, +as she replied,-- + +"I do mean to say that I propose to play a duet with Hope at school this +very winter." + +"Is it a school arrangement,--Miss Marr's plan? I didn't know that you +studied the violin at Miss Marr's." + +"Well, we do, if we wish to. There is a teacher, a very fine teacher, +who comes in from the outside for that, as there is for the harp, or any +other special accomplishment." + +"Oh! and Miss Benham wants you to practise with her,--I suppose you can +help each other,--I see," remarked Jimmy, demurely. + +"I didn't say she wanted me to _practise_ with her. I said that I +proposed to play a duet with Hope sometime this winter." + +Jimmy made no further remark concerning the matter, but he said to +himself: "Yes, that's it; Dolly has had the nerve to _propose_ to play a +duet with that girl, and my opinion is that she'll get snubbed. Miss +Hope Benham isn't going to stand Dolly's impudence,--not a bit of it." + +"What concert is it, Jimmy, that comes off on Wednesday?" suddenly asked +Mrs. Dering here. + +"I don't know of any except that affair at the Somersets'." + +"Oh, that for Mr. Kolb! I wish I had been told of that earlier. I only +heard about it at the last minute, and then I couldn't get any ticket +for love or money." + +"Mamma tried to get tickets too," said Dolly, "but they seemed to be all +snapped up at the very start by that Somerset clique. I think it was +real mean. There are other people in Boston, besides the Somersets, that +know about music, and can appreciate--" + +"But there was a limit of tickets,--there had to be; for Mrs. Somerset's +parlors, big as they are, can only hold just so many," put in Jimmy, in +explanation. + +"Your young friend may be going to this concert," suggested Mrs. Dering, +reflectively. + +Dolly bounced up like an India-rubber ball at this suggestion, and cried +out,-- + +"Why, of course that's where she's going, I might have known it." And +then Dolly leaned back discontentedly, and reflected upon the good +fortune that seemed to attend Hope Benham at every step. There was Kate +Van der Berg lavishing all sorts of attentions upon her; and here was +this testimonial concert that the Somersets had got up for Mr. Kolb, and +that everybody was pining to go to, open to her! "Wonder who she is +visiting, anyway," Dolly pondered, in the course of these +reflections,--"perhaps the Somersets themselves,--'twould be just like +her luck." + +And while Dolly pondered these things, Mrs. Dering mused with regret of +what her musicale had lost, and Jimmy chuckled anew as he recalled "that +girl's" high and mighty manner with Dolly. But his chuckle ended in a +sigh, as he thought: "It's of no use for me to expect to hear that girl +play; Dolly has spoilt all that." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +It was "New Year's night" at Miss Marr's, and every girl was as bright +and fresh as if the night before she had not watched the old year out +and the new year in; for the happiness of it all, and the long morning +rest had been like a tonic. + +"_Didn't_ we have a good time last night!" exclaimed Myra Donaldson, in +a sort of general questioning tone, as she stood with a group of the +girls by the big hall-fire, just before the hour appointed for the +guests to assemble. + +"A tip-top time, for that kind of a time," answered Dolly, speaking +first, in her usual forward fashion. + +"What do you mean by 'that kind of a time'?" asked Myra. + +"I mean a girl-party. It was the best girl-party I ever went to; but I +like parties best with boys in 'em, just as I like cake best with +currants or raisins in it." + +The girls all laughed; and Kate Van der Berg called out: "The boys then +stand for the currants and raisins with you, Dorothea?" + +"Of course they do. I hate to dance with a girl; that's one reason I +don't like a girl-party. I never can remember which I am, the boy or the +girl, when the figures are called, and I'm just as likely to prance out +in the square dances as a girl when I'm taking the boy's place, and to +set off in a waltz with the wrong foot, and muddle things generally. +Then we girls see girls all the time, or we see so much more of girls +than we do of boys that we like a change, or _I_ do. I dare say the rest +of you," making up a defiant little face, "don't feel like this at all. +I dare say you had just as lief dance with girls, and wouldn't care if +you never had boys at _your_ parties." + +"Oh, yes, we would; _we_ like currants and raisins in our cake, too, +don't we, Hope?" + +"Yes, indeed," laughed Hope. + +"You'd have thought so last year if you could have seen Hope with my +youngest brother, my little eleven-year-old," continued Kate, merrily. +"He thought Hope was just perfect, and the way he followed her up! He +wasn't in the least bashful, like some of the older boys, and he didn't +have the slightest hesitation in trotting after her. _I_ believe he +asked her to dance every dance with him. I know I had to interfere and +curb his ardor, or Hope wouldn't have danced with anybody else, for she +really encouraged him in his attentions in the most decided manner." + +"He was such a dear little fellow," said Hope,--"he told me I was just +as good company as a boy." + +When the laugh that this called forth had subsided, Dorothea said rather +soberly, "I didn't know that you had such _young_ boys." + +"Look at her, look at her!" cried Kate. "Did you ever see such a +worried, disappointed face? But cheer up, Dorothea, cheer up; we _do_ +have a few older ones. My brother Schuyler will be here this year." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Hope, with a falling inflection to her voice, "and not +Johnny?" + +"And not Johnny," laughed Kate; "one at a time, you know." + +"How old did you say your brother Schuyler is?" asked Dorothea. + +"Seventeen,--quite old, you see, for a boy. He'll do for you to dance +with, won't he?" + +"Johnny dances beautifully; one couldn't have a better partner," said +Hope. + +"Oh, 'tisn't only a dancing partner Dorothea wants," spoke up Bessie +Armitage, a keen-eyed, keen-witted girl, whose quiet observation was +never very much at fault. "Dorothea wants a talking partner as well." + +Dolly gave a little conscious giggle, and simperingly declared, with a +toss of her head: "Oh, I know what you mean. You mean that I want a +flirting partner; people are always accusing me of that, and I--" + +"Flirting! how I hate that word, and how I hate the thing itself!" burst +out Kate Van der Berg. "It's the cheapest word, and the cheapest thing +to do; and for girls like us to put on such airs, and think we are doing +something fine and grown-up. My brother Maurice, my oldest brother, has +told me enough what young men think of half-grown girls who do such +things." + +"Oh, yes, I know; you told me, before I went away, how your brother made +fun of young girls," cried Dorothea, angrily. + +The hot color rose to Kate's very forehead, in her sudden shock of +indignation. Then, as it slowly ebbed away, she said in a low, intense +tone: "I told you that I had heard my brother tell how men either +disliked the pertness of young girls, or else amused themselves by it +for a little while, and then made fun of it,--that was what I said to +you. He did not say that _he_ made fun of them,--he couldn't do such a +thing; and the reason he told me what others did, was to show me how +such things were looked upon." + +"And you told _me_ because you thought _I_ was one of those pert, +forward, bold girls!" snapped out Dorothea. + +"I was not telling _you_ what he said, any more than the rest of the +girls who were present; and what I told was brought out by something +that was said at the time." + +"Something that _I_ said, _I_ know. I was talking about my sister's +gentlemen friends, and I said that I never found it hard to talk to +_them_; and then you--" + +"Hush, girls, there's the bell; the company is coming," broke in Myra +Donaldson, "and we must get back into the 'drorrin'-room,' as Patrick +calls it." + +"Yes, it is high time we were all there," said some one here who was +coming up from the lower end of the hall. It was Miss Marr. + +"I wonder if she has heard any of this talk, and how much of it?" +thought Hope. + +But Miss Marr gave no sign of having heard anything of it. She came +forward brightly, smiled on this one and that with equal sweetness, and +playfully drove them all before her into the long flower-scented room. + +The guests were all received in this room; then by twos and threes and +fours, after a little interchange of greetings and introductions, they +were conducted to the elevator and taken up to the great hall at the top +of the house. It was an immense room that Miss Marr had had built +several years ago, when her school plan had grown from its first modest +limit to a promise of its present more liberal dimensions, and was +intended at the start for a gymnasium and play-room. Later it was fitted +up so that the gymnastic appliances could be easily removed, and a +dance-room or recital-hall made of it upon short notice. On the night of +the New Year's parties it always presented a most enchanting aspect, +with its flower and fern and palm decorations, and its soft yet +brilliant lights. Dolly, to whom it was all new and fresh, cried out +enthusiastically as she entered, "Oh, how perfectly beautiful!" + +"Isn't it?" agreed another new-comer, a visitor, who was following close +upon Dolly's heels; and this visitor was no less a person than our +friend Jimmy Dering, who had come on from Boston at Dolly's particular +request and to his own particular satisfaction; for now, he argued, "I +_may_ stand a chance of hearing 'that girl' play on that Cremona +violin." + +It was Jimmy's ring at the door-bell that had interrupted that gusty +little conversation in the hall. He was the first guest; and as he came +into the drawing-room quite alone, and heralded portentously by the +solemn butler's loudly spoken "Mr. James Dering," he might have been +expected to flinch a little, especially under the battery of all those +girls' glances; but Jimmy was not a self-conscious youth, and he had a +happy knack of always adjusting himself to circumstances, and making the +best of a trying situation. So now he came forward in his own modest, +pleasant way, without a bit of awkwardness; and though he blushed a +little, it was with such a confiding sort of manner,--a manner that +seemed to say, "Now do be friendly to me,"--that every girl there, +including Miss Marr herself, was his friend at once. + +"He is charming," thought Miss Marr, "so modest and well-mannered, and +with such a bright merry boyishness about him." + +Even Dolly couldn't spoil the impression he made, as she put up her head +and looked about her with a self-congratulatory air, that said +plainly,-- + +"Now, this is _my_ guest and _my_ cousin!" + +No, even Dolly couldn't spoil Jimmy Dering's popularity. People liked +him in spite of Dolly, and oftentimes they softened towards Dolly +herself, and forgave her her blundering, domineering tactlessness, +because she was Jimmy's cousin, as these girls did on this occasion, +before the evening was over. + +Kate Van der Berg, who had been very wroth at the start, very much +disgusted with Miss Dolly, who had felt as if she never wanted to have +anything more to do with her, before the evening was over began to say +to herself,-- + +"Dorothea must have some good in her, and must belong to nice +people--_really_ nice, well-bred people--to have such a cousin." + +And then when the other boy visitors appeared,--when Schuyler Van der +Berg, Raymond Armitage, Peter Van Loon, and others of the New York +youngsters were in full force,--it was found that they too were taken +captive by Jimmy's pleasant ways. + +"Nice little chap!" said Schuyler to his great friend, Peter Van Loon. + +"Yes," responded Peter; "nicest _Boston_ fellow I've ever seen. Don't +like Boston fellows generally, they're so cocky." + +"And this little chap _might_ be cocky, easy. What do you think,--he's +the quarter-back in the Puritan eleven!" + +"No!" and Peter looked up with greater animation than he had shown since +he came into the house. + +"And he's coxswain in the Charlesgate boat-crew." + +"I say now!" ejaculated Peter, with increased animation. + +"Yes, and he plays the fiddle too,--knows all about music." + +Peter rounded his lips into a whistling shape. Then, "How'd you find all +this out?" + +"His cousin--that big, handsome, black-eyed girl over there, I've just +been dancing with--told me." + +"That girl with the yellow gown and all those daffodils?" + +"Yes." + +"She _is_ handsome, and she knows how to dance." + +"Yes, she knows how to dance, but she rattles too much." + +"But she knows how to dance," repeated Peter, "and I'm going to ask her +to dance with me in the Virginia reel. I always get mixed up in those +old-fashioned things; but this girl will fetch me through, I know." + +And Peter was right. Dorothea fetched him through beautifully, and Peter +didn't in the least mind her rattling. Indeed, he seemed to encourage it +and to be amused by it; for Peter, I am afraid, was that kind of young +man that Kate Van der Berg declared that her brother was _not_,--the +young man who encourages rattling, to make fun of it. But whatever Peter +did was very lazily done, and his fun-making was confined mostly to his +own inward reflections, with now and then the dropping of a humorous +word to some favorite companion. To be sure, this humorous word of +Peter's had its full effect, for Peter was not a great talker, and as he +was known to be a keen-witted fellow, whatever he did say was made much +of. But Peter himself hadn't a bit of malice in him, and if he had his +laugh now and then at some foolish rattler, I, for one, think the +rattler deserved the laugh, and came off very easily at that; for, as +Jimmy Dering said once of his cousin,-- + +"Girls of Dolly's sort have got to learn that people are not going to be +careful of them and their feelings, unless _they_ are careful, to begin +with." + +And I will add that girls of Dolly's sort teach all girls how _not_ to +do it,--how not to romp and rush and rattle, and make themselves objects +of ridicule, in the fond delusion that they are objects of admiration, +as Dolly did on this very night. + +She began her rattle with Schuyler Van der Berg; she kept it up with +Peter Van Loon and fine handsome Victor Graham, and concluded it at the +end of the evening with Raymond Armitage, who was of a very different +fibre from the others,--a harder, coarser fibre altogether. + +But Dolly found Raymond Armitage the most interesting of the four, for +it was Raymond who to her mind was the most polite, the most attractive +in his way of doing and saying things,--his way of listening admiringly +to everything she said, of laughing and applauding all her blunt +speeches and frisky ways. If Jimmy had not been so popular, and +consequently so necessarily engaged in responding to this popularity, he +would have noticed how Dolly was "carrying on," and have tried at least +to check her; but when Jimmy was not talking with a little knot of boys +and girls about boat-crews and foot-ball and the coming season's races, +he was dancing with Hope, and in every pause of the dance he talked +about music; and that entirely absorbed both of them. But there came at +last the grand concluding dance that brought them all more closely +together. It was that concluding dance that Kate Van der Berg had spoken +of as the best fun of all. This dance had been introduced and taught by +Miss Marr herself at the very start of her school, and was by this time +perfectly well known to all her girls, and readily understood by any new +guest of the evening under the guidance of his partner. It was an old +French dance,--a "gavotte," so called. Miss Marr had told them its +history. It was a kind of minuet that Marie Antoinette had introduced as +a pendant to the minuet proper, adding other steps, and renaming it. She +told them that another point in its history was, that the name was said +to be derived from the town of Gap, whose inhabitants were called +"Gavots" and "Gavottes," and that it was not unlikely that it was an old +country dance of that region, and that Marie Antoinette made use of it +in her re-arrangement, and also called it a _minuet de la cour_. + +But wherever it had its origin, it was a charming dance, and Miss Marr +had been taught it thoroughly in her early youth when she visited her +French relations in France as a pretty French costume-party dance; and +she in her turn had introduced various pretty changes, the prettiest and +most novel being at the very end, where, swinging all around together, +they pair off at last in regular appointed order, and pass through an +archway of flowers, each pair receiving in this passing a beautiful +little basket, its woven cover of flowers concealing two New Year's +gifts,--one a pretty trinket, a ring or brooch or bracelet, sent by some +member of the pupil's family for the pupil herself; the other a comic +accompaniment in the way of a gay mirth-provoking toy, to be bestowed +upon the partner,--the guest of the pupil on this occasion,--these +latter being furnished by Miss Marr, and most choicely selected, some of +them coming from Paris and Vienna. The girls were quite as much +interested in these funny toys as in their own trinkets; and when all +had passed the archway, there was a gathering together of the whole +party, and a great frolic over the examination of the basket's contents; +Kate almost forgetting the glow and sparkle of her new amethyst ring in +the fun of the little gutta-percha man, who was made to wink and laugh +and shake his fist at Victor when it was presented to him by Kate. And +when Hope lifted her basket-cover and found beside the tiny Geneva watch +sent to her by her father, the merry little figure of a girl playing a +violin, while a woolly bear danced before her on a wooden stand, Jimmy, +who was Hope's partner, with gay mimicry began to imitate the bear, and +Kate cried out,-- + +"Wouldn't you, _wouldn't_ you though, _really_ like to dance to Hope's +playing?" and quick as a flash, Jimmy answered, with a gallant little +bow,-- + +"I'd like better to _listen_." + +"You'd like to listen and to dance, too, if you could hear Hope play the +Gungl' waltzes; you couldn't keep your feet still," added Kate. + +"Oh, if I _could_ hear you play, Miss Benham!" and Jimmy turned eagerly +to Hope. "There are _no_ waltzes I like so well as those. I'm coming in +to-morrow afternoon to bring my cousin some music that I've brought on +for her from her old teacher in Boston, and she is going to try it with +me in the music-room here at half-past three o'clock. Miss Marr has +kindly given us permission, and oh, would you, _could_ you, Miss Benham, +join us at four o'clock and play _one_ of the Gungl' waltzes, just one? +It would give me such pleasure." + +"I--I don't know that Miss Marr would--" + +"Oh, I am sure she would; I'll ask her.--Miss Marr," and Jimmy put out a +detaining hand, as Miss Marr at that moment was passing, and in three +minutes more his request was made and granted. Hope had her full +permission to join the two in the music-room the next afternoon and play +the Gungl' waltzes if she would like to do so. + +"And you _will_ like, won't you?" pleaded Jimmy, in his _naive_ boyish +way. + +Hope hesitated a second; then, with a little laugh, assented to his +pleading. All this had been a little aside, in the midst of the hum and +buzz of the frolic; and then, just then, it was, that suddenly, over the +ordinary clamor, Dorothea's voice rose in a noisy laugh above +everything, and her exclamation, "I told you I'd get even with you!" was +heard from end to end of the hall. + +Jimmy started as he heard it. + +"What _is_ Dolly carrying on like that for?" he thought. + +Miss Marr, too, started forward, with the same thought. And there was +Dolly, still laughing loudly, and shaking a carnival figure of paper, +free of the last scrap of its contents of sugary snow, over the person +of Mr. Raymond Armitage, her gay threat of getting even with him the +culmination of some joke that had passed between them. Miss Marr, as she +started forward, had evidently an intention of putting a decided check +upon Miss Dorothea then and there; but a look at Jimmy's face, and his +half-uttered "Oh, if Dolly _would_ think what she's about!" seemed to +change Miss Marr's intention somewhat, as it tempered her feeling; for +as she caught sight of the boy's face, she said to herself,-- + +"Poor little fellow, I won't add to his discomfort by speaking now." + +And so Dolly went on in her wild way unchecked except by Jimmy's, +"Don't, Dolly, don't! You 're making _such_ a noise, and everybody's +looking at you." + +But Dolly only laughed at this. She was having a very jolly time. She +fancied it was a very successful time, and that she was really the belle +of the evening, because Raymond Armitage plied her with flattery, and +because a good many of the others watched her with what she supposed +were entirely admiring glances. Getting glimpses of herself, too, in a +large long mirror occasionally, she saw that she had never looked +better; and, in fact, she did look very handsome, with her clear, bright +complexion, her silky black hair and brilliant eyes, framed in golden +yellow, and "all those daffodils," as Peter Van Loon had said. Yes, she +was looking very handsome; they all recognized this,--all these young +fellows who looked at her, and laughed and chatted with her, and +criticised her as "a rattler." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +The next afternoon at half-past three o'clock Jimmy made his appearance +punctually at Miss Marr's, and was received with great satisfaction by +his cousin. + +"It's such luck that you got Hope to come and play with us. I must say +you know how to manage people, Jimmy," cried Dolly, gleefully, after she +had greeted him. + +"Play _with_ us! She's coming to play _for_ us, or for me, the Gungl' +waltzes." + +"Oh, well, she'll play that duet with me now, and you'll play our +accompaniment." + +"I shall do no such thing. I am going to play _your_ accompaniment now. +Miss Benham isn't coming in until four, and after she plays the waltzes +I shall go away. As if I should take advantage of her kindness in such a +manner! And how _you_ can think of doing it, I can't understand, Dolly." + +"Yes, now begin to find fault with me!" + +"Find fault with you! I should think I might. You do such things, Dolly. +Last night, now, everybody was looking at you." + +"Why shouldn't they? A cat may look at a king, and I had an awfully +pretty gown, Jimmy;" and Dolly began to hum the closing bars of the +gavotte. + +Jimmy saw how she understood, or _mis_understood things, and burst +out,-- + +"Look here, Dolly, don't you fancy now that those fellows were thinking +of your good looks and nothing else all the time they watched you. I +know fellows better than you do. I don't say they didn't _like_ your +looks, that they didn't admire you, but I _do_ say they didn't admire +the way you went on." + +"'The way I went on'? What do you mean?" + +"_You_ know,--the way you giggled, and tossed your head, and 'made +eyes,' as the French people say, at that Armitage fellow. I didn't +happen to be near you to notice what you were doing until the last of +the evening, but that was enough. I knew, by what I _did_ see, how you'd +been going on, for I've seen you at a party before, Dolly." + +"Oh, I know what you mean; you mean that I flirt. I've heard that +before, Jimmy. _I_ can't help it if I have more attention than other +girls, just because I'm lively, and know how to talk." + +"Flirt! yes, that's what you call it,--that giggling, and tossing your +head, and saying pert things. It's like a girl at a Park Beach +picnic,--what you call 'flirting.' It is vulgar, and that's what all the +fellows I know think of it; and while _you_ think they are paying you +admiring attentions, they're just having fun at your expense; and it +makes me ashamed, for you are my cousin, and--" + +"And you are the most conceited boy that ever lived. You think you know +_everything_, and you don't know _any_thing about society. A girl is +always older than a boy in all society matters; everybody says so; and +though you're sixteen, and I'm only fifteen, I'm a whole year ahead of +you,--you're just a _little boy_ to _me_. One of my sister's friends, a +_man_ who knows, said to me, _this_ vacation, that I seemed to be +eighteen rather than fifteen." + +Jimmy stared at his cousin for a moment in sheer astonishment; then he +exclaimed,-- + +"Dolly! what _are_ you thinking of, not to see--" + +"Oh, I know what you're going to say,--not to see that it is I who am +conceited." + +"And where did you get all that stuff in your head about society; and +what idiot told you you seemed to be eighteen rather than fifteen?" + +"It was no idiot," triumphantly; "it was Mr. George Atherton." + +"George Atherton. Oh, then it is you who are the idiot not to see that +Mr. Atherton was poking fun at you, or else he meant that you _looked_ +eighteen with your height and size altogether. But it is of no use +talking to you, I see that." + +"No, it isn't of the slightest use. We've wasted time now,--the time we +ought to be trying this nocturne; and, if you please, Master Jimmy," and +Dolly bowed, with a patronizing air, "we'll begin to play, or we sha'n't +get through before Hope comes in." + +Jimmy stared again. He was seeing Dolly in a new phase. Instead of +flying into a passion, instead of turning upon him with tears and +reproaches, she stood her ground with a semblance of cool superiority +that astonished him. What did it mean? Was she getting so spoiled and +puffed up by her vanity that the truths he had placed before her went +for nothing against the flattery that she provoked? He knew that Dolly +was not very finely sensitive, was what he called "dense;" but he had +never thought that her good sense could be obscured by this density to +the extent of making her positively impervious to criticism, as she +seemed to be now. But such really was the fact. Not finely sensitive at +the start, as I have endeavored to show, Dolly was full of +self-confidence, and also full of animal spirits. With such a +combination of qualities, it was not strange that she should be +convinced that her own way was the only right way, and when led by her +vanity through a little additional flattery, this conviction became so +strong that no amount of criticism or opposition could move her. It +would be only through some individual experience, some suffering in +connection with this experience of having her own way, that Dolly would +be likely to have her eyes opened to her own mistakes, and be able to +see where she had blundered and what her blunders meant to others, as +well as herself. Fresh, however, from what she thought her success of +the night before, even Jimmy's words of protest, which usually moved her +either to anger or tears, had no effect upon her. For the time she felt +herself vastly superior to Jimmy in years and judgment, and from this +standpoint she had met his criticism with a calmness that he could not +at first understand. Of course this assumption of superiority was not a +little irritating to Jimmy, modest though he was; and as he sat there +playing the accompaniment to the nocturne, and pausing at almost every +bar to correct Dolly's false notes, he was also pondering over her false +notes in more important directions, and puzzling himself with +suppositions as to her present attitude. + +They were in the last passages of the piece, and Dolly was listening to +his corrections in an absent-minded way that exasperated him, when the +door opened, and there was Hope, with her violin, followed by Myra +Donaldson, who was to play her accompaniment. Dolly did not wait to +finish the bar she was scraping at, but jumped up at sight of Hope, with +a "Oh, there you are, and you've got that dear little violin. Isn't it a +beauty, Jimmy? See here!" and with one of her quick, confident +movements, she took the instrument--one could almost say she snatched +it--from Hope's hands, and held it out to her cousin, pointing to the +shape and the beautiful red coloring with its dark veining, repeating, +as she did so,-- + +"See! isn't it beautiful?" + +She was turning it over, when Jimmy said, with a certain quick, sharp +note in his voice,-- + +"I hope you'll excuse my cousin, Miss Benham; she has been so used to +handling her own violin carelessly she forgets that other people may +feel differently with regard to their instruments; and--" + +"Jimmy is as cross as two sticks this morning, Hope; he's done nothing +but lecture me ever since he came in," Dolly declared airily; but at the +same moment she gave the violin back into its owner's hands, to the +owner's great relief, who could not help glancing gratefully at Jimmy as +she received it. This glance of gratitude did more to restore Jimmy's +good-humor, that had been so sorely disturbed, than anything else could +have done; "for," he said to himself, "she doesn't think I'm exactly +like Dolly if I _am_ her cousin, and, in spite of Dolly, I believe we +should be first-rate friends if we saw more of each other." + +He was still more convinced of this possible friendliness as he listened +to Hope's playing,--as he saw how thorough an artist she was, how she +loved and lived in her music, when the violin was in her hands. No silly +little tricks about her, no showing off in her pose and expression like +some girl-players he had seen,--like Dolly, for instance,--and yet how +pretty she was, with that smooth, brown hair ruffling out around her +forehead, and the color coming and going, and the brown eyes, too, +coming and going, as it were, in their expression, as she played. As +pretty as Dolly _and not thinking_ about it,--not thinking about it a +bit, as she stood there, an image of grace, her chin bent lovingly down +to her violin, her skilful hands evoking such exquisite strains. And +those waltzes! Were there any that were ever written fuller of perfect +melody? So absorbed was Jimmy in all this listening and looking, he +quite forgot that he had meant to run away directly after Hope had +played. Dolly saw that he had forgotten; and while he was yet in the +tide of his enthusiastic thanks for the Gungl' waltzes, she slipped the +duet she had brought down with her on the music-rack, and said,-- + +[Illustration: "SHE STOOD THERE AN IMAGE OF GRACE, HER CHIN BENT LOVINGLY +DOWN TO HER VIOLIN"] + +"Now, Hope, do just try this with me." + +"Dolly--Miss Benham must be tired; she must want to rest," broke in +Jimmy, his face flushing, his tone revealing his mortification. + +Hope saw the flush, and noted the tone. She could not add to his +mortification, and going back to the music-stand, she said quietly,-- + +"Oh, it is one of those pretty folk-songs. Yes, I'll try it with you; +I'm not tired." + +And so it was in this way that Kate Van der Berg's prophecy was +fulfilled. + +"I knew it would come about, I knew it, I knew it!" cried Kate, +triumphantly, when Myra Donaldson told her what had happened, "for I +never saw such a persistent girl in my life as Dorothea,--so persistent +and so thick-skinned." + +"But Hope couldn't help giving in to her," explained Myra; "she was so +sorry for Dorothea's cousin." + +"Of course. I do wonder if Dorothea was clever enough to see that,--to +plan it, perhaps." + +"No, I don't think she planned it, and I don't think she saw in the +least why Hope gave in to her. She probably thought Hope had the leisure +just then, and felt like it." + +"Well, she _is_ the queerest girl; but her cousin is a dear little +fellow. My brother Schuyler and Peter Van Loon like him immensely. +Schuyler likes him so much he wants to get him to come up and visit us +this summer. I hope he will; he knows everything about a boat, and that +means a great deal in the way of a good time with us." + +"Why don't _you_ invite Dorothea to come up with him?" + +"Yes, why don't I?" and Kate laughed. Then all at once she burst out +seriously: "How she _did_ go on at the party; and look here, Myra, I'll +tell you something if you won't speak of it to any one,--any one but +Hope,--I've told Hope." + +"No, I won't say a word about it." + +"Well, you saw how she carried on,--flirted in that silly, loud way with +Raymond Armitage?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, what do you think? She--she's carrying on the flirtation still." + +"No--no, you don't mean it!" + +"I do." + +"_How_ is she carrying it on?" + +"The next day after the party, the next morning,--that's day before +yesterday,--I was down early, hunting for my carnelian pin; I'd dropped +it somewhere, and I thought it might be in the reception-room, as I +missed it soon after I had left the room to go upstairs the night +before. I found it at last under a chair by the window. It was a little +bent, and I stood at the window trying to straighten it, when I saw +three or four of the Institute boys coming along on their way to school. +One of them was Raymond Armitage; and as he passed by, I heard him say +to the others,-- + +"'I have a note from my sister that I've got to leave here. Walk on +slowly, and I'll catch up with you.' + +"Ann was in the hall dusting, and so his ring was answered immediately; +and as the reception-room door was ajar, I heard him say to her,-- + +"'Will you give this note to Miss Dorothea Dering?' + +"Then I knew that he dropped something, some piece of money, into the +girl's hand, for I could hear her say,-- + +"'Oh, thank you, sir, I'll go right up with it now,' which she did the +instant she had closed the door." + +"Well, if I ever!" + +"Wait a minute; this isn't all. Just after luncheon that very day, mamma +called and took me down town to be measured for my new jacket. After +that was over, I sat waiting in the carriage, while mamma went into a +shop to give an order. Michael drew up just beyond to make room for +another carriage, and that brought us right in front of Huyler's; and +there, through the clear glass of the door, I saw Dorothea Dering and +Raymond Armitage laughing and talking together at the ice-cream soda +counter." + +"Of all--" + +"But wait again; this isn't all. At the same hour after luncheon to-day, +as I came along the corridor past Dorothea's room, I saw Ann standing at +the open door, and whipping out from under her apron what I knew at once +was a box of candy, and I heard her say, 'The same young gentleman as +sent the note, miss.' Now, what do you think of all this?" + +"I think it is perfectly disgusting. What are you going to do about it? +Something ought to be done to stop it." + +"What _can_ I do?" + +"Oughtn't you to tell Miss Marr?" + +"Yes, I suppose I ought, if nothing else will do; but I hate to be a +tell-tale. Boys never tell tales of each other. I've got brothers, you +know, and I've heard them talk so much about that. I've heard Schuyler +say that girls grew up to be women gossips because they tattle so much +at school. If I thought it would do any good, I would speak to Dorothea; +but she would resent it, and would very likely tell me, in her blunt +way, that she could manage her own affairs, and that I'd better mind my +own business, or something of that kind." + +"Yes, I suppose that she would; but it _is_ our business as well as +hers, when she is doing something that is going to hurt the school. What +did Hope say when you told her about it?" + +"She said it ought to be stopped some way, just for that reason,--that +it would hurt the school dreadfully, as well as Dorothea, and nearly +kill Miss Marr." + +"Of course it would; it's so vulgar and cheap. When did that cousin of +Dorothea's go back?" + +"Yesterday." + +"He was staying with some relatives, wasn't he?" + +"Yes, cousins, I believe." + +"Why couldn't somebody tell _them_? They might stop it; and it must be +stopped, or--you know what Miss Marr _might_ do? She might, you know, +send her home,--expel her at once." + +"Yes, I thought of that; and that was one reason I had for not telling +her." + +"Oh, it's all so silly! What fun could there be in sneaking off to drink +ice-cream soda with Raymond Armitage?" + +"No particular fun in the soda itself. The fun to Dorothea was just the +sneaking off. You can see she thinks she's having 'great larks,' as +she'd call it,--is being independent and having adventures and being a +great flirt, and that Raymond Armitage admires her for it. And Raymond +Armitage is simply laughing in his sleeve at her. Oh, I should think any +girl would have better sense, better taste; and Anna Fleming talks about +her family." + +"But she isn't the only one of her family. There's her cousin; look at +him: he's a little gentleman if ever there was one. What would he say to +her if he knew? And just think! there she was back again, playing on her +violin with him as cool as you please, directly after her lark, and no +doubt pluming herself on it." + +"I wonder what excuse she made to get off as she did?" + +"Excuse? You don't suppose she made any excuse? Not she. She just +skipped out, in the rest hour, when Miss Marr and the other teachers +were off duty; and she managed to come back at the right time. Oh, it +makes me more and more indignant the longer I think of it, for it's a +bigger shame because Miss Marr is so nice about our school parties and +our receptions, and treats us like ladies, and trusts us to _be_ ladies, +and not to deceive her. But hark! it's striking six, and I must get +ready for dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +"Yes, I suppose that is the best thing for me to do; but oh, Hope! you +don't know, you can't think how I dread it." + +"Yes, I can _think_;" and Hope laughed a little. + +"She'll be so angry she'll say horrid things to me." + +"Yes, you may count on that." + +"_When_ would you tell her?" + +"I'd go now and tell her this very minute, it ought to be done at once." + +"Oh, dear! well, I'll take your advice, and you'll wait for me here, +won't you?" + +"Yes, I'll wait for you here and study up my history lesson." + +"All right; and wish me courage and success." Then, with a little nod +and a rueful smile, Kate Van der Berg went on her mission to Dorothea; +for it had finally, after much consultation between the three friends, +been thought best for Kate to go straight to Dorothea and appeal to her. + +Dorothea was at the desk in her room writing a note as Kate entered,--a +note she hastily turned over blank side up as she saw her visitor. There +was a rather flurried look on her face, as Kate said, "Am I interrupting +you?" though she answered readily enough, "Oh, no; I thought it was one +of the servants when you knocked, that's all." Then, not very cordially, +"Won't you sit down?" + +This was not a very promising beginning, and Kate's heart began to fail +her. At this point, however, she caught sight of a photograph. It was +the photograph of Raymond Armitage, and her courage returned. + +Dorothea had seen her glance of recognition, and remarked coolly: "Isn't +it like him? He's very handsome, I think, don't you?" + +"I--I don't know," stammered Kate; then, throwing all hesitation to the +winds, she began to speak, and this she did at the start in the kindest, +gentlest way in the world, telling of what she had seen and heard, as +she had told Hope and Myra, and winding up with: "I felt that I ought to +speak to you--to tell you what you might not know--how much all this +would affect Miss Marr and injure yourself; that if--if she heard--if +she knew--she might--might write to your parents, and ask them--to--to +take you home." + +"Oh, I see--expel me, that's what you mean. The old cat, she won't do +any such thing! I never saw anything like the way you all go on over +that woman. I like her well enough. I was tremendously taken with her +and her tailor gowns when I first came, but I didn't bow down before her +as the rest of you did, and I have never believed she was of so much +consequence as she was set up to be; and as for her throwing away a lot +of money by sending a girl off for being a little independent and having +a little fun in her own way, she's too smart to do any such thing. My +gracious! I should think I had tried to set the house on fire by the +fuss you make! And what have I done? Just had a little sociable time +with an acquaintance without asking leave of her High-and-Mightiness." + +Kate had hard work to control herself. At the phrase "old cat," her very +soul had risen up in revolt. To speak in such terms of Miss Marr!--Miss +Marr, who was so fine and sweet, so considerate and sympathetic, who was +indeed like an older girl friend to them all. And then, "What have I +done? Just had a little sociable time with an acquaintance, without +asking leave of her High-and-Mightiness." Kate lifted up her chin +suddenly, as she recalled these words, and as coolly as she could, +said,-- + +"I suppose you know that if you _had_ asked for leave to write notes to +Raymond Armitage, and to receive them from him, and to make appointments +with him to go down town, and all that, it would have done no +good,--that, of course, Miss Marr, or any head of a school, would not +have given you permission." + +"No, of course they wouldn't; but that's only one of the stiff little +bars that boarding-schools set up." + +"And you wouldn't want to do such things half as much if there were no +bars against them." + +"But what harm is there in 'such things,' as you call them? Suppose my +cousin Jimmy was at boarding-school, and took a notion to write a note +to a girl, and to meet her down town and drink ice-cream soda with her, +would any teacher think he had done such a dreadful thing,--a thing for +which he deserved to be expelled?" + +"They'd think he had done wrong in going against the laws of the school, +but it _wouldn't_ do him the harm that it would a girl, because a girl +is supposed to be a little differently situated from a boy. If she has +been brought up like a lady, she isn't expected to be planning meetings +with young men on the sly. She is supposed to have a little dignity; and +as everybody knows that no boy would think of proposing such silly +out-of-the-way things to a girl unless he had been encouraged by her to +dare them, so the girl who is found to have gone on in such silly ways +is talked about as bold and unladylike, and that is an injury that may +leave a black and blue spot on her forever; and you must see, if you +will stop to think about it a minute, that such a girl would injure the +school she happened to be in,--would leave a black and blue spot on +that." + +Kate had tried to be very forbearing at the start; but as she was +confronted by Dorothea's density, as she saw how vain and foolish, not +to say ignorant, were her estimates, her patience gave way, and she +spoke the whole of her mind then and there, without reserve and without +softening her words. It is needless to say that Dorothea was furious to +be called by implication bold and unladylike, and a possible injury to +the school. Out of this fury she burst forth,-- + +"I never, never in all my life heard of such impudence! _You_ to talk of +being brought up like a lady! You are the most conceited, meddling, +_un_ladylike girl I ever met! What business is it of yours, anyway? Who +set you up to manage this school? You think you can manage everybody, +and that you know more about society and propriety than anybody else. +You're nothing but a Dutch girl, anyway; and as for being expelled from +this school, I'll expel myself if this kind of interference is to be +allowed. I'm about tired, anyhow, of such a peeking, prying, +puss-puss-in-the-corner place. Miss Marr is making you into a little lot +of primmy old maids just as fast as she can; and I for one--" + +But Kate did not wait to hear any more of this outburst. She did not +dare, in fact, to trust herself to reply. Hope, who was sitting curled +up in the library waiting, as she had promised, heard the quick, flying +footsteps, as they came along, and said to herself, "She's had a horrid +time, I know." But _how_ horrid she had not imagined until poor Kate +poured forth the story. It was a very honestly told story,--not a word +of her own part in it omitted in the whole detail. But as she thus +honestly, and with just her own peculiar lift of the head and emphatic +way, repeated all she had said, Hope's lips began to twitch, and at last +she began to laugh. + +"How mean of you!" cried Kate. Then she joined in the laugh, as she +realized how little adapted her words had been to soften Dorothea, and +how fully adapted to rousing her resentment and rebellion. + +"But I began beautifully, Hope. I was as mild and persuasive as +possible; but when she called Miss Marr 'an old cat,' I _couldn't_ keep +on being mild and persuasive. How could I?" + +"I think it must have been hard work, and I don't wonder you said just +what you did; and perhaps, after all, the plain truth, though it makes +her so angry now, will have the most effect in the end." + +"Yes, in the end; but--but, Hope, what I've been afraid of is that +she'll do something right away,--something reckless and daring, just to +show she isn't afraid of anything and doesn't care." + +"Oh, I didn't think of that; but I don't believe she will. She'll +remember what you said about Miss Marr's writing to her parents, and +that will stop her." + +"I don't know," responded Kate, doubtfully. "She looked to me as if she +would brave anything, she was so angry." + +For a day or two the three--Hope and Myra and Kate--were on the _qui +vive_, expecting some catastrophe; but as at the close of the second day +everything seemed to go on as usual, and Dorothea, with the exception of +holding aloof from them, was the same as ever, they relaxed a little of +their apprehension. + +Once or twice in these days they had noticed that Bessie Armitage had +regarded Dorothea with a queer, quizzical sort of look,--"Just as if she +knew something was or had been going on," Myra declared. + +Hope laughed at this declaration. What could Bessie know? She was not a +boarding-pupil, only "an outsider," as they called the girls who were +the day pupils; and the outsiders never knew what was going on in the +house unless some one of the boarding-girls told them, and there was +certainly no one to tell Bessie about this affair. + +"Perhaps Raymond may have told his sister," suggested Myra. + +"Raymond Armitage!" exclaimed Kate. "Not he; there are brothers and +brothers. Raymond Armitage is not one of the brothers who are +confidential with their sisters. It would be much more his way to tell a +boy friend,--to tell him and brag about it to him. That's just the kind +of boy Raymond Armitage is, in my opinion. I like Bessie, but I never +liked that brother of hers. I never like boys who have such awfully +flattering ways with girls. Raymond Armitage is always paying +compliments to girls, always agreeing with everything they say, or +pretending to. He--he's--I don't know just how to put it--but he's too +conscious all the time. Now, there's Peter Van Loon and Victor Graham +and that nice Jimmy Dering, they're polite enough for anybody; but they +treat me as if I was a human being like themselves, and agree with me or +disagree with me as they do with each other. They're honest, and that's +the kind I like and trust, and I don't trust the other kind. I always +feel as if these smiling, smirking, constantly agreeing kind were making +fun of me." + +"So do I," "And so do I," exclaimed Hope and Myra, in a breath. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +The next day was Saturday, and directly after a very early +twelve-o'clock luncheon the girls were all going to the Park to skate. +Miss Marr had a cold, and was not able to accompany them, as she usually +did on these outings. She sent, in her stead, two of the under +teachers,--Miss Stephens and Miss Thompson. + +"And if we _can't_ have Miss Marr, Stevey and Tommy are not bad," Kate +Van der Berg declared, rather irreverently, as she ran up to her room to +make herself ready. Several girls were following in her wake; amongst +them was Dorothea, who suddenly retorted to Kate's words,-- + +"Perhaps _some_ of us had quite as lief have Stevey and Tommy as Miss +Marr." + +It was the first time that Dorothea had responded even indirectly to any +remarks of Kate's since their stormy interview; and though there was a +sharp flavor in what was said, Kate held herself in, and did not reply +to it. But one of the younger girls called out in protest,-- + +"Oh, how can you say that! There's nobody like Miss Marr. I never skate +half so well with any one else as I do with her." + +"Yes, but you are contented to skate _her way_, I suppose," flung back +Dorothea, with a little disagreeable laugh. + +"Course I am, because she knows just how; and so her way's better than +mine," was the innocent answer to this. + +"And I like _my_ way best sometimes, and take it," returned Dorothea, +with another disagreeable laugh. + +Kate understood perfectly well that these flings were aimed at her, and +not at little Lily Chester; but she was determined to take no notice of +them. + +Dorothea, however, in spite of this sudden outburst of rancor, seemed to +be in excellent spirits, and laughed and talked with one and another of +the girls with even more than her usual volubility. Arrived at the Park, +however, her spirits seemed to flag. Kate, who had caught her quick, +searching glance across the pond, thought at once: "She is disappointed +in not finding somebody here that she expected. I wonder if it is +Raymond Armitage?" But just at that moment a shrill halloo reached Kate, +and wheeling about she saw Peter Van Loon, with her brother Schuyler and +little Johnny, skating down the ice towards her, and Dorothea and her +affairs vanished from her mind. It was some time later that she was +curiously recalled to her, by Peter Van Loon suddenly exclaiming, +"Hello, there's Armitage now, going off with the daffodil girl!" + +"The daffodil girl!" What did he mean? Kate followed the direction of +Peter's eyes, and saw Raymond Armitage with Dorothea, who had a lot of +daffodils stuck in her belt,--a fresh offering, evidently, from her +escort. + +"But why do you call her the 'daffodil girl?'" asked Kate, wonderingly. + +"Oh, you know she had such a lot of them when I first saw her--and with +the yellow gown--she looked all daffodils, and I didn't know her name +then." + +"And so you called her 'the daffodil girl;'" and Kate laughed: this was +so like Peter. + +"Yes; so I called her the 'daffodil girl,'" assented Peter, smiling a +little at Kate's laugh. + +The pond by this time had become pretty well covered with skaters, and +it was not easy to keep any one in view; but Dorothea was tall, and for +a while the nodding plumes in her hat were distinctly visible to Kate +and her companion, as they held on their way; but presently the nodding +plumes turned in another direction, and they lost sight of them, and out +of sight was out of mind again. In the mean time Hope, with Schuyler Van +der Berg and little Johnny, was coursing about in the merriest manner, +little Johnny proudly showing Hope how to use a hocky stick on the ice. +In this absorbing occupation the two approached the spot where some of +the attendants and chaperons of the different parties were made +comfortable; and as they did so, Hope, to her surprise, saw Dorothea +Dering leaving the ice in company with Raymond Armitage. + +What did this mean? Dorothea was always the last one to leave the ice. +But there was Miss Stephens--Miss Stephens would know what it meant; and +skating up to her, Hope asked the question, and was told, in Miss +Stephens's placid, easy way, that Miss Dering had got tired of skating, +and Miss Bessie Armitage and her brother, who were just leaving, had +taken charge of her to Miss Marr's. + +Dorothea tired of skating at this early hour? Why, they had but just +begun! And where was Bessie? Miss Stephens had said, "Miss Bessie +Armitage and her brother;" and she, Hope, had only seen the brother, +Raymond Armitage. Perhaps, however, Bessie had gone on ahead; +but--but--and a whole host of suppositions came crowding into Hope's +mind. If it had been any other of the girls, none of these suppositions +would have arisen. If Myra Donaldson or Anna Fleming had confessed to +being tired, and had given out that she was going home under the escort +of Bessie Armitage and her brother, who would have thought but that it +was the most natural and proper thing in the world, and who--_who_ would +have thought of questioning the statement as it stood? But Dorothea, +with her little plots and plans, had clearly shown herself another +person entirely, and it was little wonder that Hope, under the +circumstances, should suspect further plotting and planning. + +"What is it,--what's up?" asked ten-year-old Johnny, as his companion +suddenly forgot all interest in the hockey stick, and stood balancing +herself on her skates, with a puzzled frown drawing her brows together. + +For answer, Hope turned about with a "I don't know, Johnny, but we'll go +and find Kate. I want to ask her something." + +"All right;" and Johnny struck out to the left, where he saw his +sister's Scotch skating-cap, with its glittering aigrette, shining in +the sun. + +"Tired of skating? Gone home?" cried Kate, when Hope told her story. "I +don't believe it! Schuyler!" + +"Oh, I wouldn't!" expostulated Hope. + +"Yes, I'm going to ask Schuyler--I want to know--Schuyler, did Raymond +Armitage come out in the same car with you?" + +"Part way, but he left the car at Madison Square; he had ordered some +theatre seats, and he stopped at the theatre to see if they were all +right." + +"Oh, and then he came on here to meet Bessie?" + +"Bessie?" + +"Yes; funny, though, I haven't seen her. Have _you_ seen her?" + +"No." + +"And yet Hope says that Miss Stephens told her that Dorothea had got +tired of skating, and gone home under the escort of Bessie Armitage and +her brother." + +"Miss Stephens?" + +"Yes, Miss Stephens, one of the under-teachers, who is blind and deaf +about some things,--a good, dear stupid, who thinks everybody is a lamb, +and Raymond Armitage the Prince of Lambs, I suppose, and like the father +of his country, and cannot tell a lie, and--" + +"But perhaps Bessie was just ahead, and Miss Stephens _did_ see her," +put in Hope. + +"And didn't take her for granted," scoffed Kate. Then, as she caught a +look that her brother and Peter exchanged, she cried,-- + +"What is it? Peter!" bringing one little skate-clad foot down on the ice +with an emphasis that sent out a shower of sparkles, "tell me instantly +what you know. Don't you see, you two boys, that it's for the credit of +the school,--of dear Miss Marr, of Dorothea (silly goose that she is), +and all the rest of us,--that this kind of thing shall be nipped in the +bud? Don't you see that you _ought_ to tell what you know, that some of +us can stop the foolishness, and save Dorothea from being sent home?" + +"Come now, you don't mean that;" and Peter stopped short in that odd way +of his. + +"Yes, I do mean that Miss Marr would send Dorothea straight home if she +heard of her going off for a lark with Raymond Armitage. She says at the +start that her school is neither an infant school nor a reform school, +and if she finds that girls of fifteen and sixteen don't know how to +behave like ladies in the ordinary ways of good manners, they are not +the kind of girls she wants in her house, and so she sends them out of +it. There isn't any nagging or any little punishments. She advises us +and talks to us in a nice friendly way at the beginning, and sometimes +later; but she lets a girl alone enough to find out just what she is, +and _then_, when she finds out that the girl has faults and habits that +may injure the other girls, she won't have her in her school; and so now +I want you to tell us--Hope and me--what you know about this going off +with Raymond Armitage, so that--" + +"You may go and tell Miss Marr, and have her pack the girl off home." + +"Schuyler!" + +"Oh, well, I didn't mean exactly that, of course; but what _do_ you +propose to do?" + +"Stop the foolishness, whatever it is, that may be going on." + +"Well, after what you told me the other day of your undertaking in that +line with this particular party, I shouldn't think you'd attempt +anything further with her." + +"But somebody must do it. I don't like Dorothea, I didn't from the +first; but I want her to have another chance, and I do so hate to have +things come to the pass of her being expelled; it would be perfectly +horrid for all of us. But we're only wasting time if you won't help us +by telling--" + +"But what is it you want to know?" + +"What _you_ know; in the first place, if Ray Armitage said that he was +coming here to meet his sister, and if he _expected_ her to be here?" + +"Well, no; he didn't say anything about his sister." + +"Did he say anything about Dorothea?" + +"Yes." + +"That he was coming here to meet _her_?" + +"Yes." + +"And that he was going to take _her_ with him this afternoon to the +matinee?" + +"Yes." + +"Then, oh, Schuyler, you _must_ come with me down to the Madison Square +Theatre and head them off!" + +"Head them off! They've got there by this time." + +"No; they were going out on the other side, where they had just left +Miss Stephens, because _that_ was the way they would take to go straight +to Miss Marr's. Don't you see? Ray Armitage's cunning! Now, if _we_ go +out on this side, and take the elevated, we shall get ahead of them, +and--" + +"Well, I just sha'n't do anything of the kind! I'd like to see myself +playing private policeman like that! If the girl is such a blooming +idiot as this, she won't pay any attention to you! No, I guess I don't +try any such missionary work, to be laughed at by all the fellows in +town." + +"Laughed at!" A glance upward as she said this, and Kate caught the grin +on Peter Van Loon's face, and burst forth: "Oh, that's all your +manliness is worth! You're afraid,--afraid some other selfish fellows +will laugh at you for doing your duty." + +"'Tisn't _my duty_!" + +"No, it isn't, Kate; he's right." + +Kate turned about in astonishment, for it was Hope who had spoken, and +Hope who went on speaking,-- + +"And _you_--_you_ ought not to go, Kate; Dorothea would--would--" + +"Be madder than ever. But what _can_ be done?" + +"_I'll_ go." + +"_You?_" + +"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley. I've just caught sight of her; see, she is over +there talking to Johnny. If I tell her how it is--what I want to do, +she'll understand, she'll be glad to help; and Dorothea will listen to +her, when she wouldn't to you or to me, I dare say." + +"Well, that's a much more sensible plan than yours, Kate," commented +Schuyler Van der Berg, as Hope darted off; "but all the same it's my +opinion that Miss Dorothea Dering isn't going to be kept from that +matinee performance, even if they catch her in time." + +"Which they won't," spoke up Peter, as he looked at his watch. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +And Peter was right; for, as Mrs. Sibley and Hope neared the theatre, +they saw Dorothea's nodding plumes just disappearing through the wide +open doorway. + +"And we're too late," cried Hope,--"too late, after all." + +"Too late to try to prevent the girl from going into the theatre,--yes, +and I thought we should be when we started; there had been too much time +lost before you spoke to me. We should have taken the car that preceded +the one that we came in; but I doubt if it would have done any good if +we _had_ been earlier. But I'll tell you what we'll do now. We'll go in +to the matinee ourselves. Miss Marr," smiling down at Hope, "would be +perfectly willing that you should go under my chaperonage." + +"Oh, yes, yes, of course." + +"You see, in doing this, we may be able to help this foolish girl, after +all, by taking her home under our escort, after the matinee is over. She +will hurry out, naturally, to get home before dark, and I am sure even +such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser for her to go +back to Miss Marr's in our company than with young Armitage." + +"Mrs. Sibley, you don't think it is wrong, do you, for us to keep all +this from Miss Marr,--to go on covering everything up from her while we +try to get Dorothea out--out of all these queer ways of hers? It makes +me feel as if--as if there might be something sly and underhand in going +on like this,--something like being disloyal to Miss Marr, and deceiving +her." + +"You needn't worry about that, my dear. I know Angelique Marr, and I am +sure it would be a relief to her to have Dorothea helped out of her +queer ways, as you put it, by girls like you and Kate. Miss Marr knows +perfectly well that a _teacher's_ opposition wouldn't influence a girl +like Dorothea favorably,--that it would be more likely to rouse a +counter opposition. It is only girls of her own age who would be likely +to influence her; and so, knowing this, the teacher has to be silent a +good many times when she may suspect things that she would _like_ to +oppose; then, when the flagrant offence is forced upon her, there would +be no alternative but to see that the offender was punished according to +the stated rules of the school government, if the school itself was to +be respected and to maintain its position." + +Greatly comforted by these words, Hope followed Mrs. Sibley into the +theatre. There had been no difficulty, even at this late moment, in +obtaining very good back seats,--seats from which one could command an +excellent view of the audience, if not of the stage; and Hope at once +began a careful survey of this audience, her far-seeing young eyes +roving rapidly from section to section in keen investigation. She was +suddenly interrupted in this investigation by a whisper from Mrs. +Sibley. + +"Aren't you looking too far down in front? Isn't that the girl?" + +"Where?" + +"Two rows in front of us, to the right." + +Hope looked in the direction indicated; and there, two rows in front, to +the right, sure enough, was Dorothea. + +She was laughing and whispering with her companion, evidently in the +gayest spirits; and Hope's heart sank within her at the thought of what +she had undertaken, as she caught sight of her. Why, oh, why, had she +been so rash as to think of interfering with this girl in any way? For, +as she regarded her there, she felt sure that she would look upon their +suggestion of taking her home as an interference, to be resented and +rejected. "Even such a harum-scarum creature will see that it is wiser +for her to go back to Miss Marr in our company than with young +Armitage," Mrs. Sibley had confidently declared. But Mrs. Sibley didn't +know Dorothea, Hope now reflected, as there came crowding up to her, at +the sight of that handsome, arrogant face, all her own bitter knowledge +of her. And with this knowledge, why--why had she been so rash? And to +have brought kind, sweet Mrs. Sibley here to be, perhaps, insulted; for +if Dorothea _did_ resent their suggestion, she wouldn't hesitate to +express herself with her usual freedom. For a moment, overcome by all +these thoughts, poor Hope had a mind to say to Mrs. Sibley: "Our plan +won't be of the slightest use. Dorothea won't accept our offer, and we +might as well give it up." The next moment, ashamed of her cowardice, +she said to herself: "How can I be so mean? It's my duty to go ahead and +try to carry out what I've undertaken. If I fail--if Dorothea does turn +upon me, I must bear it,--that's all." + +And with this resolve, she directed her attention to the stage. It was +only when the curtain fell after the first act that she glanced again +towards the pair to the right. She was just in time to see Mr. Raymond +Armitage bowing with effusion to a party of ladies several seats in +front; and then, evidently with a word of explanation and excuse to +Dorothea, he jumped up and went forward to speak to them. The youngest +of the party was a very elegant young woman, whose notice seemed to be +much appreciated by Mr. Raymond Armitage, as he bent before her. The +other ladies, too, were apparently of consequence to him. But when Hope +saw him linger beyond the moment of greeting, her glance wandered back +to Dorothea. What did Dorothea think of being left to herself like this +by her fine escort? There might be the excuse of some message or other, +for his leaving her for a moment, but to linger moment by moment _for +his own pleasure_,--yes, that was it,--how would Miss Dorothea take +this? A sudden turn of her head showed Hope pretty plainly how she took +it, for in place of the gay satisfaction that had made her face radiant, +there was a very unmistakable look of astonishment and mortification. + +Mrs. Sibley, who had also been observant of this little by-play, here +whispered to Hope,-- + +"How rude to leave her like that!" + +"And how mortified she is--look!" responded Hope. + +Several times after this they saw him make a movement as if to return to +his place, but each time some word addressed to him by one of the ladies +would be enough to detain him. When finally he did return, the orchestra +was playing the last of its selections before the rising of the curtain +again. That he was profuse in his apologies, the two interested +observers could plainly perceive. They could also perceive that Dorothea +was by no means disposed to accept these apologies in a benignant +spirit. At last, however, he seemed to make his peace in a measure, for +a half smile began to hover about Dorothea's lips, and by the time the +curtain had risen again, and the merry little play that was on the +boards was again making everybody laugh, Dorothea was joining in the +laugh as heartily as any one. The play ended in a little whirlwind of +applause. In the midst of this, Mrs. Sibley noticed that young Armitage +was hurrying his companion off in great haste, and whispered to Hope,-- + +"They are hurrying probably to catch the next car; and if we go put at +once by the right aisle, we shall meet them face to face, and it will be +quite easy for you then to propose to take Dorothea with us. She _must_ +see the point,--that it is much better for her to go back to Miss Marr's +in our company, and be glad of the opportunity we offer her." + +Hope nodded assent; but her heart quaked, as she followed Mrs. Sibley +through the passages between the seats, and fancied that moment when she +should meet Dorothea face to face and see her stare of astonishment, and +then, oh, then, hear, perhaps, her scornful rejection of the opportunity +offered her! But they were not to meet Dorothea face to face as they +came out on that right aisle. A little delay in pushing through brought +them behind instead of in front of the pair, and-- + +"No, I thank you, I can find the car by myself!" were the words that +they heard on that instant; and the tone in which these words were +delivered was sharp and angry, not the tone of friendly agreement. +Evidently young Armitage had not waited for his companion to suggest +that she had better return without his escort to Miss Marr's door, and +evidently Dorothea had resented the fact that the suggestion had come +from him. + +"But you ought not to be angry with me," they heard him protest. "I +shouldn't think of letting you go alone if it wasn't better for you. The +car is on the line of your street, and you might meet--might meet--one +of your teachers, you know, and that would make trouble for you. It's +just to help you that I--" + +"Oh, really, it's a pity you didn't think of this earlier before you +said we would go back by the other line, where we shouldn't run the risk +of meeting the teachers." + +"Yes, I know; but as I have come to think it over, I see that the other +cars will keep you out so much longer, I thought you would rather--" + +"As you have come to think it over _since you met your friends_, you see +that it will be more convenient for you not to take up the time by going +round by the other line. Perhaps your friends want you to find _their_ +car for them. Anyway, whatever engagement you've made with them, don't +keep them waiting for _me_; I can find _my_ car by myself, as I said." + +"Miss Dering!" in an expostulating tone, "I haven't made any engagement +to hurry me away; I'm only going to dine at the Waldorf by and by with +these friends,--they're Washington friends of my mother and Bessie,--but +I needn't hurry, not the least, and of course I shall take you home by +the other line if you like that best." + +"But I don't like it best--_now_. I--I--" + +Hope here caught sight of Dorothea's face,--the quivering lips, the eyes +that were striving against tears,--and obeying a swift, warm impulse of +pity and sympathy, forgot her fears in it, and called out softly,-- + +"Dorothea! Dorothea!" + +Dorothea turned a startled glance behind her at this call. Then, "What! +_you_ here, Hope?" she exclaimed. + +"Yes, with Mrs. Sibley." + +"Oh, and you're going straight home--to Miss Marr's? Mrs. Sibley is to +take you?" stepping back to Hope's side. + +"Yes." + +"And may I--will you let me come with you?" in a whisper, and clutching +Hope's wrist nervously. + +"Yes, oh, yes; I was going to ask you if you wouldn't like to come with +us." + +"Were you?" A quick glance at Hope from the black eyes still struggling +against tears, a closer clutch upon Hope's wrist, then a sudden +conquering of the quivering lips, and, "I needn't keep you waiting any +longer, I have found friends who will take me home," Mr. Raymond +Armitage was told with a dignity that surprised and rather abashed him. +Hope, too, was surprised at the real dignity displayed, and slid her +hand into the hand that was clutching her wrist, with a sudden movement +of approbation and sympathy. Dorothea gave a quick start, and turned an +inquiring look upon Hope's face at this movement,--a look that seemed to +ask, "Do you really feel like this toward me?" + +With wise forethought, Mrs. Sibley, on leaving the Park, had directed +her coachman, who was awaiting her with the carriage at that point to +drive round to the theatre and await her there. If he did not find her +ready for him at once, he was to return at four o'clock. She had thus +provided for either result of her expedition. If the elevated, swift +though it was, did not enable them to reach the theatre in time to +interview Dorothea as she arrived, the carriage would be on hand at four +to take her back with them after the play, for Mrs. Sibley had no manner +of doubt from the first that the girl would go with them, though she +little thought it would be under the present conditions. + +Indeed, she had looked forward to a very different state of things; and +sure though she felt of ultimate success, she fully expected to bring it +about by adroit management. Instead of this, however, here was this +difficult-to-be-dealt-with Dorothea not only willing, but gratefully +glad, to avail herself of the opportunity offered her. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +"And you mean that you _won't_ tell her about Ray Armitage's rudeness?" + +"No, I won't tell her if you feel like this,--if you don't want me to +tell her." + +"Of course I don't want you to, but of course I expected that you +_would_ tell her; she's such a chum of yours. I know it would have been +the first thing _I_ should have done with a chum of mine." + +"Well, _I_ should have spoken of it to Kate, naturally, but for your +feeling; and she would have been very nice about it, just as indignant +and disgusted with him as I am." + +"Perhaps so; but she's tried to do me good and failed too much to be +very sorry for anything that would mortify me; and I _know_ if she heard +of this rudeness to me, she'd think it served me right,--would teach me +a lesson." + +Hope couldn't help laughing a little at this. Then she said suddenly, +"How do you know that I don't feel just the same?" + +"Oh, I know you don't exactly approve of me; but you haven't cut me up +as she has, and then tried to set me right in that superior way; and you +haven't meddled with me or my affairs." + +"You don't know what I have done. You took it for granted that I +happened to go to the theatre with Mrs. Sibley to please myself, that I +happened to be behind you, and so happened to hear your talk with +Raymond Armitage. But I _didn't_ go there to please myself. I went there +on purpose to--to meddle with you and your affairs!" + +"What in the world _do_ you mean?" + +"I'll tell you." And then and there Hope told the whole story of her +meddling, and why she did it,--the whole story, from the moment she had +observed Dorothea leaving the Park with Raymond Armitage to her own +departure with Mrs. Sibley; and this, of course, included the +consultation with Kate, and the information regarding Raymond Armitage's +movements that was wrung from Schuyler Van der Berg. As she neared the +end of this story, Hope rose from her chair. Dorothea would not now +desire her presence, as she had desired it a few minutes ago when they +entered the house together after Mrs. Sibley had left them, and when, +full of relief and gratitude, she had said: "Oh, do come up to my room +for a few minutes! I want to ask you something." No, she would no longer +desire her presence, even with the added relief,--the added debt of +gratitude for Hope's voluntary offer to say nothing of Raymond +Armitage's rudeness. She would not only no longer desire her presence, +but she would doubtless turn upon her with hot resentment, as she had +turned upon Kate on a previous occasion; and it was to avoid the +outburst of this resentment that Hope rose to make herself ready to +leave the room when she had come to the end of her story. But as she +said her last word, as she turned to go,-- + +"Don't, don't go!" was called after her, in a queer stifled voice, not +at all like Dorothea's usual high loud tones when she was protesting +against anything,--a queer stifled voice that had--could it be +possible?--a sound of tears in it? and--and there was a look in +Dorothea's eyes,--yes, a look, as if the tears were there too, were +almost ready to fall. + + +[Illustration: "DON'T, DON'T GO"] + +A lump began to rise in Hope's throat. Had she been too harsh in what +she had told, or in the way she had told it? Had they all been too +harsh, too cold in their treatment of this girl's offences? It was true +that they were all against her,--the "all" who comprised the little set +of the older girls, and perhaps--perhaps--But what was that that +Dorothea was saying? + +"I think you've been awfully kind to take all this trouble for me; and +I've always thought you were so indifferent,--that you didn't in the +least care what became of me." + +"Kind? indifferent? I don't understand," faltered Hope, staring blankly +in her amazement at Dorothea. + +"Yes, I should never have thought of your taking the least trouble, +putting yourself out for me. I knew you didn't approve of me very much, +but I supposed that you were so indifferent that it didn't matter to +you. I don't half believe, and I never have, that such dreadful +consequences would come of going against Miss Marr's rules; but _you_ +do, I see, and it was awfully kind of you to take all this trouble to +pull me out of the danger you thought I was in,--awfully kind, and I +sha'n't forget it; and if you call this meddling, it's a very different +sort of meddling from some other people's. It's easy enough for some +folks to _talk_ and criticise everything you do, telling you what you +ought and what you ought not to do, as if you were a mere ignoramus. I +never would stand that kind of thing. Yes, it's a very different sort of +thing that you've done, to put yourself out, and maybe run a risk +yourself in doing it; and then to promise, as you have, not to say +anything about that horrid part of the whole affair,--Raymond Armitage's +hateful impoliteness! Well, I don't think there are many girls that +would hold their tongues like that; and I--I--I just--just--love you for +it!" wound up Dorothea, her voice breaking in a sudden little tempest of +tears. + +"Oh, but I--I--I'm not what you--what you think--I'm not--I don't +deserve--you don't know me," stammered Hope, astonished and embarrassed +beyond words. + +"I knew you from the first, the very first," went on Dorothea. + +Hope started. + +"From the very first, when I saw you coming down the corridor that +afternoon I arrived, as the kind of girl I'd like,--a girl who wouldn't +be mean and meddlesome; and I knew you were a lady of the real stuff, +and you _are_--a long shot ahead of most of 'em here; and oh, I say--" +Dorothea had now conquered her tears,--"aren't you the girl I saw last +year at Papanti's with the Edlicotts?" + +"No." + +"Well, you look so like her I thought you might be, or some relation of +hers maybe. You're just of her stamp, any way. Anna Fleming is always +talking about those Knickerbocker Van der Bergs as if they were ahead of +everybody else, and she is always quoting Kate Van der Berg as being so +swell in her looks and her manners. Looks and manners! I told Anna the +last time she said this to me, that _you_ were a great sight _more_ +swell. And you are. Oh, I know who's who; there can't anybody tell _me_! +Manners! I don't call it very good manners to talk _at_ people as Kate +Van der Berg has talked at me, with all that stuff of what her brother +Schuyler says about girls. She never liked me from the start, and she +did what she could to set you, and, for that matter, the rest of the +girls against me. I soon caught on to that. If it hadn't been for her--" + +"Oh, Dorothea! Dorothea!" burst in Hope at this point, "I can't let you +go on any more like this,--it would be mean and cowardly and +dishonorable in me. You're all wrong, all wrong! Kate hasn't set me or +any one else against you. You don't know, you don't remember--you think +I--I would have been more--more sociable--more friendly, if it hadn't +been for Kate, but--but it is--it is Kate who would have been more +sociable, more friendly perhaps, if it hadn't been for me! _You_ have +forgotten _me_--you have forgotten that we have ever met before, +but we have, and _I_ have never forgotten, for you--you hurt me +horribly--horribly at that time. I remember everything about it--every +word; and when I met you in the corridor, the day you arrived here in +the autumn, I knew you at once, but I saw that you had forgotten me, and +I--" + +"But when--where--how long ago was it--that time we met first--and what +in the world did I say to hurt you so?" interrupted Dorothea with +wide-open eyes of amazement. + +"It was at Brookside, years ago." + +"At Brookside? I never knew a girl like you at Brookside." + +"Not like me now. I was only ten years old then, and I--was selling +mayflowers in the Brookside station." + +"Oh, I remember! I remember!" cried Dorothea, leaping down from the bed +where she was sitting. "And you--you are that girl?" + +"Yes, my father was an engineer on that road, and couldn't afford to buy +me what I wanted more than anything in the world--a violin, and I +thought I would have to give it up--to go without it, until one day on +the street I heard a boy with a basket of mayflowers crying 'Ten cents a +bunch,' and then I saw how I might earn the money that I wanted so much, +and buy my violin myself." + +"And you--_you_ are that little girl--that little 'Ten-cents-a-bunch,' +as I called you afterward to my father! Oh, oh, it all comes to me now; +how mad I got because you stood up to me, and talked back to me. I +suppose I was a great inquisitive brat, and fired off a lot of +inquisitive questions at you,--I was always asking questions,--and you +got mad at 'em and went for me, and then _I_ got mad with you, and we +had a regular squabble. I told my father about it, and he laughed and +said, 'I don't think you had the best of it, Dolly;' and then I +remember, too, something he said to Mary, my sister,--Mary had taken a +great fancy to you,--something about your father knowing a lot about +engines,--being a genius at that kind of thing; and then papa laughed +again and asked me, if your father should turn out a millionaire some +day, how'd I like my impudent little girl--that's _you_, you +know--turning into a millionaire's daughter, and I said I'd say,'Ten +cents a bunch to her,' and I have, I have! For your father _has_ turned +into a millionaire, hasn't he? and that's what it means, your being +here, and your having a Stradivari violin! Oh, oh, oh, it's just like a +story, just like a play--a Cinderella play; but," catching a queer +expression on Hope's face, "I'm awfully sorry I hurt your feelings as I +did, but you mustn't lay it up against me,--nobody ever lays anything up +against me. I didn't _mean_ to hurt your feelings, but I didn't know any +better then, and anyhow, everything's come out all right for you +now,--you've come up out of the soot and ashes just as Cinderella did, +only _your_ soot was engine soot, and you've come up at the top of +everything, and I _do_ say, _now_, that you are a great sight more swell +in your looks and your manners and in _yourself_ than Kate Van der Berg, +I don't care _what_ soot and ashes you came up from." + +The queer expression on Hope's face had by this time deepened into +something that looked like a wondering smile, a smile that seemed to +say, "How perfectly astonishing this girl is!" + +Dorothea saw the smile, and with a sudden acuteness that now and then +came to her, hit upon its meaning, and cried out,-- + +"Oh, I see what you think,--I surprise you all round, I know, I'm so +outspoken and blunt. Jimmy says I'm beastly blunt sometimes. I suppose +in the first place that you expected me to have laid things up against +you as you did against me; but, goody gracious, I never remember a +quarter of what I say nor a quarter of what anybody else says after a +while, and I'm always ready to make up, to jump over anything that's +disagreeable if I'm met half-way; and you,--well, you've met me more +than half-way in this business about Raymond Armitage, and if I _had_ +laid up anything you'd ever said,--and I do remember," laughing, "you +said I was the most ignorant girl you'd ever seen,--I couldn't be mad +with you for it now. No, I couldn't be anything but friendly to +you,--and it's such jolly fun, too, the whole story,--my not remembering +you, and the way it's turned out, and all; but look here, what's that +you said about Kate Van der Berg,--that she might have been more +sociable if it hadn't been for you? Did you tell her--I suppose you +did--of our first meeting in the Brookside station, and the scrimmage we +had, and that I hurt your feelings so dreadfully?" + +"No; but after you had been here for a little time, Kate noticed that +I--was rather stiff toward you." + +"Yes, stiff and offish, but dreadfully polite, and in spite of it--the +offishness, I mean--I liked you. _Isn't_ it funny? But go on--Kate +noticed that you were stiff toward me--" + +"And she asked me what it was that I disliked in you, and I told her +just this,--that you and I had met long ago when we were little girls, +and that you had said something then that had hurt me that I had never +forgotten, but that you had forgotten it and forgotten _me_. That was +all. I thought it was better to tell her what I did than to try to turn +the subject, because if I tried to do that she would have thought the +matter worse than it was." + +"Well, I suppose she told the girls what you said, and made much of it, +and--" + +"She told no one. I asked her at once not to speak of it, and she +promised that she wouldn't, and I know that she didn't." + +"But you--I don't see, when you have talked with her, as you must have +done, you are so intimate with her--about your mayflower business and +everything--how you could help mentioning our scrimmage." + +"I never have talked to her about the mayflower business, as you call +it." + +"Do you mean to say that she doesn't know that you sold those flowers to +buy a violin?" + +Hope colored painfully as she answered,-- + +"I--I have never said anything about those things to her." + +"You haven't? Well, now look here; you've been so nice keeping _my_ +secret, I'll keep yours. The girls, not one of them, shall hear a word +from me of that poor time and the flower-selling,--not one word; you can +trust me." + +"Oh, no, no, Dorothea! You think I am ashamed of that 'poor time,' as +you describe it,--that dear time, it ought to be described. No, no, it +isn't because I was ashamed of that time that I haven't spoken to Kate +or to the others, it is because I'm always shy of talking about myself, +always, and I was more than ever shy of talking to girls about a way of +living and doing that they knew nothing of, and that they would wonder +at as I told of it,--wonder at and stare at me in their wonder, because +they knew nothing only of one kind of living and doing,--_their_ kind. +It would have been like what it is sometimes for a musician to play to +an audience a new composition that is full of strange chords and +harmonies. The audience listens and wonders but doesn't understand, and +so is not in sympathy with the player, and the player is made to feel +awkward and uncomfortable, and as if he had made a mistake in producing +the composition at that time. That was what I knew that I should feel if +I talked to these girls. Don't you see what I mean?" + +"Yes, I see, now that you've put it before me in this way, but I +shouldn't, if you hadn't laid it out as you have; and--well, I suppose I +might have felt just as you did in your place, only I shouldn't have +known how to explain it to myself as you have." + +"And then after _you_ came," went on Hope, more as if she were relieving +her own mind than addressing any particular person, "after that, it +would have been more difficult to talk of that old time--" + +"Because you thought I'd stowed away in my mind that old squabble just +as you had, and would jump on you, and say a lot of disagreeable things. +Well, I might have burst out with a lot of remarks and exclamations and +questions, and stared at you as you say you expected to be stared at, +but I shouldn't have had any feeling of spite against you, any more than +I have now this minute, for, as I tell you, I'd never laid up anything, +but you're so sensitive, you wouldn't have liked my remarks and +questions before all the girls, I dare say." + +"And I dare say this sensitiveness has made me cowardly. I thought one +day last term when Kate Van der Berg was talking with Anna Fleming about +people who had risen in the world by their own ability, and yet didn't +like to refer to their early days of poverty and struggle, that I must +be a great coward, and I was very unhappy over it for a while; but I +know now that my cowardice isn't shame at all, but just that shrinking +from talking to those who couldn't fully understand what I was talking +of, and who would stare at me with wonder and curiosity _because_ they +didn't understand. But now, now, I'm not going to shrink any longer, I'm +not going to have anybody ever think for a single moment that I'm +ashamed of that dear time when we lived in that tiny cottage at +Riverview, where I first began to learn to play on the little violin I +earned myself, and where my dear, dear father made the little model of +the engine that made his fortune." + +"Oh, do you mean, then, that you are going to tell Kate now, right +away,--Kate and the other girls,--what you've told me?" asked Dorothea +eagerly, and with her usual blunt inquisitiveness. + +"Well, I don't know that I shall rush 'right away' now, this minute, and +tell them; it isn't exactly a matter of such importance as that," +answered Hope, with a laugh that was half amused and half annoyed. "I +think I shall dress for dinner first, and I _may_ sleep on it." + +"Oh, now you're snubbing my inquisitiveness, I know! But, Hope, see here +a minute. I--I want to say that I'm not going to talk to the girls about +you. Of course, you expected that I would--would go on over that +Brookside station squabble, and I might, if things hadn't turned out as +they have--if I--I didn't feel as I do--as if I knew you better now, and +knew how you felt about being made a show of." + +Hope winced a little at this presumption on Dorothea's part that there +was still a secret between them,--a secret dependent on Dorothea's own +good will,--and she made haste to say,-- + +"It is very nice of you, I'm sure, Dorothea, to want to consult my +feelings, but it isn't necessary for you to think that you must keep +silent on my account." + +Dorothea looked a little disappointed, and Hope felt a twinge of +self-reproach as she glanced at her; but it was impossible for her to +accept the attitude of indebtedness that seemed about to be thrust upon +her. As she turned to leave the room, however, she said more warmly than +she had yet spoken,-- + +"I think you have been very good-natured, Dorothea, to have taken +everything that I have said so nicely--and--and"--smiling a little--"you +are better-natured than I am, because you don't lay things up as I do." + +"No, I don't lay up grudges, but I can lay up a little gratitude, I +hope, and that helps me to be good-natured sometimes." + +As she said this, Dorothea showed all her milk-white teeth in a frank +laugh; and Hope, regarding her, thought to herself: "She _is_ better +natured than I am about some things, and she _can_ be generous." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +"And she didn't make any objection to going with you?" + +"No, not the slightest. Indeed she seemed glad to go with us." + +Hope flushed a little, as she said this in answer to Kate's question +that night, as the two sat talking over the day and its exciting events. +The flush was the result of that pang of tender conscience that springs +up in revolt at even a momentary want of candor. + +"And Ray Armitage,--how did he take it?" + +"Oh, quite easily!" + +"And you didn't have--either you or Mrs. Sibley--to argue with her; you +didn't have to tell her that the only thing to save her from the +consequences of her silliness was to go home in a proper way under +proper chaperonage?" + +"No, we didn't have to knock her down with that bludgeon," laughed Hope. + +"Well, I suppose she had begun to _think_! I'm glad she had so much +sense. Schuyler made all manner of fun of me after you and Mrs. Sibley +left. He said, in the first place, that he didn't believe you'd be in +time to see them before they entered the theatre, and if you did, you +wouldn't stop them." + +"Mrs. Sibley was of the same opinion exactly." + +"How clever it was of her to do the next thing,--take you into the +theatre, and then manage the whole thing so perfectly!" + +"Yes, wasn't it clever, and so kind." + +"When you drove up did you see any of the teachers?" + +"We met Miss Stephens as we entered the hall." + +"You don't mean it? What did she say at seeing Dorothea with you?" + +"Mrs. Sibley came in with us for a moment, and Miss Stephens looked at +the three of us with some surprise, and then said,-- + +"'I thought Dorothea was coming home long ago under the escort of Bessie +Armitage and her brother.' + +"At that, Mrs. Sibley answered at once, 'We met Dorothea, and took her +with _us_.' + +"Oh! and when Miss Stephens saw Mrs. Sibley and heard her say that, she +felt that everything was all right, I suppose. She ought to have been +sure of that before, and then you wouldn't have lost your afternoon's +skating, and had such a lot of bother." + +"Oh, well, it's all turned out satisfactorily." + +Hope couldn't tell Kate _how_ satisfactorily,--couldn't tell her that if +Miss Stephens _had_ been sure that everything was right at an earlier +hour and Dorothea had thus been hindered from doing what she did, she +would also have missed that mortifying experience, that might do more to +shake her unlimited confidence in her own estimates and opinions than +anything else could possibly do. + +No, Hope couldn't tell Kate of this, for her lips were sealed. But if +she could not express herself freely in this direction, she could, and +she would, say something to show Dorothea as she had just seen her,--at +her best; and so she held forth, with what amplitude was possible within +the limit of her promise, on the girl's surprising gentleness and +reasonableness. Dorothea had really behaved exceedingly well, she told +Kate, and was not only appreciative of what had been done for her, but +of the good intention that prompted the doing. And here Hope could not +help repeating this characteristic speech of Dorothea's,-- + +"I don't half believe, and I never have, that such dreadful consequences +would come of going against Miss Marr's rules; but _you_ do, I see, and +so it was awfully kind of you to take all this trouble to pull me out of +the danger you thought I was in." + +"She said that? Well, I must say, she's got more sense and feeling than +I gave her credit for; and to think of her flying at _me_ as she did. +_My_ intentions were as good as yours." + +"Yes, but you gave her advice, and she hates advice. What seemed to +impress her was our--Mrs. Sibley and my--taking the trouble to leave the +Park, and actually going in to the matinee and waiting to do her the +service we did." + +"Well, I hope her gratitude and appreciation will last long enough to +keep her out of any more silly scrapes for a while." + +"I don't believe she will want to get into any more such scrapes. I--I +think she feels sort of ashamed of what she has done. And, Kate, +couldn't we--wouldn't it be a good plan if we tried to help her to keep +out of such things?" + +"Help her--how?" + +"Well, I--I feel as if I may have been too hard on her. I have cherished +my feeling of dislike constantly, and have done her an injury all +round--with you, and the other girls by the way I have held off from +her. She feels that the girls don't like her, and thinks that _you_ were +the first to dislike her, and that it was you who had influenced me. I +told her what a mistake that was,--that it was _I_ who had influenced +you--by my manner at the start; and then, then I recalled myself to her +mind. I told her what she had forgotten,--that I was the little girl she +had met five years ago,--the little girl she had had a quarrel with at +the Brookside station, and that I had always remembered what she had +said to me there,--always remembered and resented it, and that it was +that that had affected my manner towards her, had made me stiff and +offish to her." + +"Oh, Hope, do, do tell me about that time! I've never liked before to +urge you to tell me the whole story, but I wish now that you _would_ +tell me." + +There was a moment of hesitation,--just a moment; then with a little +rising of color, a little tremulousness of voice, Hope said,-- + +"Kate, do you remember that piece of music that I brought back from +Boston,--that 'Idyl of the Spring' that Mr. Kolb had composed for me to +play at our coming May festival?" + +"That piece dedicated to you, and so oddly named 'Mayflowers: Ten Cents +a Bunch'?" + +"Yes, and do you remember, when you asked me how he came to give it such +an odd title, that I told you he had known a little girl once that he +was very fond of, who had sold mayflowers at ten cents a bunch?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, _I_ was that little girl." + +"You! you! When--where--how did you come to sell them?" + +"I'll tell you;" and then, for the second time that night, Hope told her +story of that 'poor time,' as Dorothea had blunderingly called it,--that +dear time, as she herself rightly and happily called it,--when she lived +with her father and mother in the little cottage at Riverview, and +carried out her joyous plan of earning that wonderful twenty-five +dollars to buy the good little fiddle. As she told the story now, as she +went back to the details of her plan, with Kate for audience, and +described the little fiddle in the shop-window as she had first seen it, +and the sinking of her heart as she was told the price, and then the +happy relief of her inspiration when she heard the boy on the street +call out "Ten cents a bunch," she began to lose her shyness in the +warmth of her recollection,--to lose her shyness and to forget her +shrinking from a possible auditor who _wouldn't understand_. Wouldn't +understand! As she neared the end, as she came to her meeting with +Dorothea in the Brookside station, and said, "It was there that I first +met Dorothea," Kate burst in,-- + +"And she insulted you, she insulted you in her ignorance and stupidity! +I can see it all,--all. She couldn't comprehend such a dear darling +brave little thing as you. She took you for an ordinary little street +huckster,--the horrid thick-headed, thick-skinned creature,--and sneered +and jeered at you, and very likely called you names, or did other +dreadful things." + +"Oh, no, no, Kate! she wasn't malicious. She didn't _mean_ to hurt me; +but she was ignorant of any way of living but her own way, and she +thought that anybody who sold things on the street must be one of those +very poor people who lived anyhow, like the people at the North End, and +so she asked me questions,--questions that hurt me, because they showed +that she thought I was so different from herself. No, it wasn't malice +that made her ask these questions, it was simply ignorance; and I--I +told her so at last." + +"You did? Hurrah! Tell me--tell me exactly what you said," cried Kate, +laughing delightedly. + +"Well, I said exactly that,--that she must be very ignorant or she would +know more about the difference in people, that she would _see_ the +difference; and then I told her that my father was an engineer on the +road, and that we had a nice home and plenty to eat and to drink and to +wear, and books and magazines and papers, and then she asked me what I +sold flowers on the street for, if we were as nice as that, and I told +her that I wanted to buy something for myself that my father couldn't +afford to buy for me; and then I remember"--and a little dimpling smile +came over Hope's face here--"I asked her, 'Don't you ever want anything +that your father doesn't feel as if he could buy for you just when you +want him to?' and she was so irritated at my accusing her of being +ignorant that she answered, 'Well, if I did, I shouldn't be let to go +out on the street and peddle flowers to earn the money.'" + +"The hateful, impudent--" + +"But wait, wait! I was as bad as she was here, because I answered back, +'And _I_ shouldn't be _allowed_ to say "let to go," like ignorant North +Enders.'" + +"Oh, Hope, Hope, this is beautiful, beautiful!" and Kate began to dance +wildly around the room, thrumming an imaginary pair of castanets as she +danced. + +"I don't think it was very beautiful," protested Hope; "but you can see +by this speech that I was as bad as she after I got my temper up." + +"Bad! it was beautiful, beautiful,--just the best thing I ever heard. +Bad! well, I should say not." + +"But _she_ didn't _mean_ to hurt me, to begin with, and I--I _meant_ to +hurt her in everything I said. Remember that." + +"You meant to enlighten her, and I fancy you did, and you certainly got +the better of her." + +"Yes, and her father told her so, she said, when I recalled the +'scrimmage,' as she termed it, to her mind; and yet in spite of that she +didn't lay up anything against me. She had forgotten my face, and was +fast forgetting the whole affair when I brought things back to her. She +had never had a bit of grudge against me, and she only laughed when she +recalled some of the things I had said. I'm glad now to tell you the +whole story, for you must see by what I have told you, that she isn't in +the least malicious, and you must see, too, that she is really much +better natured than we have thought her, not to have laid up anything; +yes, much better natured than I am." + +"Well, she was the attacking party. You were only on the defensive, and +you knocked her down with the truth. Of course you would remember the +kind of things she said to you more than she would remember your +replies; and then you are much finer and more sensitive than she, +anyway. But I will allow that she has turned out better in the end than +I would have expected. That telling you what her father said wasn't bad. +But, Hope dear, sensitive as you are, how could you recall yourself and +that old time to her?" + +"I told you how I came to do it; it was because she had got it into her +head that it was you who had made me stiff and offish, and I had to tell +her then just how it was." + +"Oh, yes; and you sacrificed yourself in that way for me. You hated to +tell her, Hope, I know you did,--you are such a sensitive, shrinking +creature." + +"Yes, that is just my fault,--a cowardly shrinking, that makes me keep +silent sometimes when I ought to speak. Oh, Kate, Kate, I dare say now, +this minute, you are thinking how strange it is,--my not having spoken +to you before, of all this old life of mine, when I lived so differently +from the way I live now. I dare say you think I--I was ashamed to talk +about it, because my father was a working-man, a poor locomotive +engineer. Oh, I shall never forget how I felt that day last term when +you talked about the people who kept still and never spoke of their +humble beginnings; and when you brought up the Stephensons and said, 'Do +you think _they'd_ keep still, because they were ashamed of their humble +beginnings, after they had worked out of them and become prosperous?' +and then when you went on and declared how you hated the cowardice of +those people who didn't dare to speak of these things, and what _you_ +would do under such circumstances, I felt that _I_ was the most +miserable coward, and that you would despise me forever if you knew what +I was keeping to myself. But I knew--I knew all the time, that I wasn't +ashamed of _anything_,--of the little home without a servant or of the +engine-cab and my dear, dear father. I knew I was proud of him and what +he had done, and yet I knew that I couldn't bear to think of telling all +these things to girls who had never known what it was to live as we had. +I felt that you wouldn't, that you couldn't understand; that you would +take it all something as Dorothea had, years ago, though you wouldn't +_say_ a word of how you felt, but you would look it. You would stare at +me with wonder and curiosity,--that you--you--" + +"Oh, Hope, Hope, my dear, I do understand it all--all--everything. I +_know_ that you couldn't be ashamed of that old time, and I understand +just how you felt about us, how and why you shrank from telling us. One +such experience as that with Dorothea was enough to make you shrink from +all girls like us. You were a dear delicate little child, and you had +never known that there was such ignorance as Dorothea's, and that you +_could_ be so misunderstood, and it has made a great bruise on you that +you have never got over. Oh, Hope, this is all Dorothea's doing. She +_meant_ no harm, but she has done the harm nevertheless, for she has +taken away your belief and trust and confidence. To think that you +couldn't trust _me_, after all you've known of me, to understand just a +difference in the way of living! Why, the life you've just told me +of--that little home where you were so close to each other, where you +lived so near to all your father's hopes and plans--seems to me +beautiful, something to be envied. And to think _you_ should think I +shouldn't understand, shouldn't appreciate it--should look at it +with--with such eyes as--as Dorothea's! Oh, Hope! Hope! doesn't this +prove what harm Dorothea has done you?" + +"And if it does, Kate, and I don't deny that it does, I say again that +she didn't _mean_ to do any harm,--I see that now as clear as can +be,--and that ought to make all the difference; and then when I think +what _I_ have done--" + +"You! what have you done but to forgive her ninety-and-nine times?" + +"Oh, no, no, Kate, I've--I've dis--no, I've _hated_ her all these years, +and this hate has affected my manner towards her so much that it +influenced you and all the other girls against her; and as she has been +harmed through that, I don't see but that I ought to cry quits." + +"Yes, five months against five years. Do you call that quits?" + +"Yes, and maybe more than quits, because I've made enemies for her, or +at least influenced people against her, while she had no feeling to +prejudice people against me. She has liked me all this time that we've +been here at school together, spite of my being so stiff; and when she +came to find out who I was,--the little girl who got the best of her in +that childish quarrel, she hadn't the least ill will towards me. Quits? +Yes, I say it's more than quits for me. Oh, Kate, I can't tell you +everything she said to me just now, but she did show herself generous +and grateful; and even when I confessed that it was I who had prejudiced +you, even then she had no ill will. Yes, yes, I agree that I was harmed +and hurt by what happened five years ago; but, Kate, I've been thinking +very fast and very hard for the last hour or two, and I've come to +believe that if I had known nothing of Dorothea before she came here--if +I and you had started without any prejudice, things might have been +different, we might have been easier and pleasanter with her, and that +might have brought her out in pleasanter ways. But instead of that, we +picked up every little thing, and, well, she _was_ cold-shouldered +awfully by all of us at times; and we can't tell--we don't know what we +might have done, if we had tried to make her _one of us_ more. We might +have kept her from doing such foolish reckless things as she has; and +so, as I think that I am to blame for the beginning of this prejudice +that has hurt her, I think that I may have been the means of doing her +greater harm than she has ever done me; for think, _think_, Kate, _what_ +harm it must be to a girl to have Raymond Armitage able to boast about +her accepting his attentions, and for your brother and Peter Van Loon, +and nobody knows who else, getting such a cheap opinion of her through +these things." + +"Yes, I see. But what do you propose to do about it?" + +"Well, I think--I ought to do or try to do what I can now, to help her +_not_ to hurt herself any more by these pranks." + +"How are you going to work to make her over like this?" + +"I--I don't expect to make her over, Kate, but I think she may get a +different idea of having a good time if we are very friendly to her, and +bring her into _our_ good times, and she sees that the girls, and the +boys too, that she really wants to associate with, really and truly look +down on these pranks that she has thought were only 'good fun,'--look +down upon them and think them vulgar." + +"And you want me to help in this missionary work?" asked Kate, half +laughing. + +"Yes, I--I want you to be nice to her, Kate. When you meet her to-morrow +morning, now, I want you to give her something more than a stiff nod; I +want you to smile a little,--not too much, or she'll think I've been +talking to you about her." + +"A little, but not too much," laughed Kate, "Oh, Hope, Hope, you dear +delightful darling you, this is too funny, too funny!" + +"But won't you try--won't you try, Kate, to--" + +"To smile upon her a little but not too much? Yes, yes, I'll try, I'll +try," still laughing. + +"And, Kate dear," suddenly enfolding the laughing girl in a close +embrace, "will you try to do something else for me,--will you try to +forgive me for--for being so stupid as not to trust you to--to +understand? Will you try to forgive me, and to--to love me as well--as +you did before?" + +"Try to forgive you--to love you as well as I did before," cried Kate, +pressing Hope's cheek against her own. "I've nothing to forgive; and as +for loving you as well as I did before, I love you better, if that were +possible, for before, though I thought I knew you pretty well, I didn't +know how more than generous you could be. Love you? I love and admire +you beyond anybody; I--" + +"Girls, girls, it's after talking hours," whispered Anna Fleming, as she +pushed open the door. "I've just come from your room, Hope, where I've +been with Myra, and the lights are all being turned down in the halls, +and so we _must_ say good-night and scatter to bed." + +"Oh, yes, I ought not to have stayed so long," whispered back Hope, +apologetically. "Good-night!" and "Good-night!" "Good-night" responded +Anna and Kate in chorus; but Kate managed to add slyly in a lower +whisper to Hope,-- + +"I'll smile upon her a little, but not too much, Hope dear." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +The next morning was rather dreaded by Dorothea. She had really suffered +from a headache the night before, and with that excuse had been allowed +to keep her room, and have a light supper sent up to her. + +"But I wish I hadn't--I wish to goodness I'd gone down last night!" she +said petulantly to herself, as she faced the morning's sunshine. She had +full faith in Hope and her promise, and was therefore quite secure that +not one of the girls would know of that mortifying little episode at the +end of yesterday's escapade; and this was the most that she cared for. +But yet, in spite of this, she had a certain very uncomfortable feeling +about meeting Kate Van der Berg and "that set," as she called the little +group of girls of which Kate seemed the natural head and leader. A very +uncomfortable feeling; for though that mortifying episode was a safe +secret, the rest of the escapade was the common property of Kate and +Hope; "and of course," argued Dorothea, "Kate Van der Berg has told all +_she_ knows to the others, and they'll just take her little pattern of +things, and set up and look at me, and think how the naughty girl was +taken care of by Mrs. Sibley and Hope. Oh, oh, if it hadn't been for +that horrid Raymond Armitage's being so mean and selfish at the +end,--well, I've found _him_ out!--I shouldn't have _had_ to accept +Hope's offer,--though it was awfully good of her, and I was awfully glad +to accept, as things turned out. But if things _hadn't_ turned out as +they did,--if Ray Armitage had behaved himself, I _needn't_ have +accepted, and then if I had come back in the cars, as I went, I should +have taken the risks and they'd have known that I was independent. But +now, though thank Heaven they won't know _why_ I accepted Hope's offer, +they'll know that I _did_ accept it, and so they'll stare at me as the +naughty little girl who _had to_ give in!" + +It will be seen by this argument that Dorothea's state of mind was not +yet what it should be. It will also be seen that, harboring such a state +of mind, it was quite natural that she should find herself decidedly +uncomfortable at the prospect of facing "that set." But it had to be +done, however. There was no use in putting it off; and with a final +glance at the mirror, a final pat to her smooth shining hair, Dorothea +started off toward the dining-room. As she gained the lower hall, she +heard a mingled sound of various voices issuing from the room, and +ruefully thought: "Late as it is, they're all there! _Why_ didn't I get +up earlier? I might have known they'd be late Sunday morning. Now all +eyes will be glaring at me when I open the door!" + +But as she opened the door, beyond one or two of the girls looking up +with a preoccupied air and a hasty good-morning, no notice was taken of +her. "That set" and indeed the whole assembled company were in the very +thick of an animated talk concerning the origin and observance of Saint +Valentine's Day. + +"Of course we have kept up the Valentine fun year after year, because +there's such a lot of children in our family. I don't suppose that grown +up people nowadays would make anything of it, if it wasn't for +children,--except maybe vulgar people who use those horrid comic +valentines to play a vulgar joke on some one," Kate Van der Berg was +saying just as Dorothea stepped over the threshold. A little nod and +smile was given to Dorothea the next moment,--a little easy nod and that +happy half-smile that was "not too much," recommended by Hope. + +"It says in Chambers' Book of Days," here spoke up Anna Fleming, +"that Valentine's Day is now almost everywhere a much degenerated +festival, but that it was once a very general custom with +everybody--grown-up-people as well as children--to send valentines to +each other; and it says, too, that the origin of this custom is a +subject of some obscurity. Those are the very words; I read them last +night to Myra, didn't I, Myra?" + +"Yes; and you read too that the Saint Valentine who was a priest of Rome +and martyred in the third century seems to have nothing to do with the +matter beyond the accident of his day being used for the festival +purpose." + +"Then, if that is true, the whole thing is a sentimental muddle of +nonsense, starting off with the mating of birds for origin, as some of +the old writers seem to believe," cried Kate, in a disgusted tone. "But +_I'm_ not going to believe any such thing. I'm going to believe what +Bishop Wheatley says about it. He says that Saint Valentine was a man so +famous for his love and charity that the custom of choosing valentines +upon his festival took its rise from a desire to commemorate that very +love and charity by choosing a special friend on his day,--I suppose his +birthday,--which was, as nearly as can be reckoned, the fourteenth of +February. Now, I shall stick to this explanation of the day. Bishop +Wheatley's authority is good enough for me, and I shall choose _my_ +valentine on his lines this year as I did last." + +"Oh, _who_ was your Valentine last year?" cried little Lily Chester, +with eager curiosity. + +"My aunt Katrine,--a great-aunt whom I had never seen until last year, +when she came over from Germany to visit us." + +"An old aunt,--how funny!" exclaimed Lily. + +"Why funny?" + +"Why? Because--because whoever heard of anybody choosing an old aunt for +a valentine?" + +"Whom do _you_ choose, Lily?" + +"I? Oh, _I_ choose children I know,--boys, always." + +An outburst of laughter greeted this declaration; and in the midst of it +Kate said gayly, with a little confidential nod to Dorothea, "It's +currants and raisins again, Dorothea." + +The gay tone of good-fellowship, the confidential nod and smile took +Dorothea so by surprise that for the moment her ready speech failed her. +What she had _thought_, what she might have _said_ if she had not thus +been surprised into silence, was something in her usual truculent vein, +with a very decided declaration of sympathy with Lily's choice. But +surprised and silent for the moment, she was all ready to agree with +Myra Donaldson, who followed Kate's remark with a laughing confession +that she too had chosen "boys always,"--that she thought that was the +customary, the proper valentine way. And agreeing with Myra in an +emphatic "It _is_--it always _has_ been the proper valentine way," +Dorothea was again surprised at the gentleness of Kate's tone as she +disagreed,--as she said: + +"Oh, no, no, Dorothea; the good old Bishop Wheatley didn't mean that it +was _nothing_ but a sweethearting custom, for there is another record +that says distinctly that the early Church looked upon that custom as +one of the pagan practices, and observed the day as a real Saint's Day, +when one chose a particular patron saint for the year and called him, or +her, my 'valentine.' And it was in that way that I chose dear old Aunt +Katrine for _my_ valentine last year." + +"And _I_ chose my dear Mr. Kolb, my first music-teacher," said Hope, +looking up brightly. "He taught me to play on that little violin I was +telling you about," glancing at Kate with a significant smile. Dorothea +saw the smile, and instantly said to herself: "She's told her,--she's +told her all that Mayflower and fiddle story, every word of it, I can +see by their looks. I wonder if she's told the other girls?" + +But what was that that Myra Donaldson was referring to?--something that +had evidently brought up all this talk. Dorothea had lost a sentence or +two in her momentary preoccupation over Hope and Kate; but now catching +the words "It's to be a valentine party as usual," she asked eagerly,-- + +"Whose party is it,--who gives it?" + +"Bessie Armitage. The fourteenth of February is her birthday, and she +always has a party on that day, or on the evening of the day. She hasn't +sent her invitations out yet, but she will next week. I went to her last +year's party, and it was such a pretty party, wasn't it?" looking at +Kate and Hope, who at once gave cordial agreement that it was a _very_ +pretty party. "But you'll see for yourself this year, Dorothea," Myra +went on, "for I suppose Miss Marr will let us go, as she did last +winter, though it _is_ stretching a point to go to any party outside; +but Bessie has been here so long--she was only ten when she first came +to Miss Marr's--that she has exceptions made in her favor; and then +these birthday-parties of hers are always early parties, and that makes +a great difference." + +A party,--a Valentine party at Bessie Armitage's! Dorothea couldn't, for +the life of her, keep the hot angry color from rushing to her face as +she heard the name of Armitage; and her first thought was: "Catch me +going to a party at _his_ home, where I've got to be polite to _him_!" +At the next thought,--the thought that her refusal to go would be +thoroughly understood by Raymond himself, would be taken by him as a +direct cut and snub, her spirits rose, and a little triumphant smile +began to curl her lips. + +"Look at Dorothea! She's planning _some_ mischief," laughed Myra, who +had noted the sudden change in her opposite neighbor's face. All eyes +were now indeed turned upon Dorothea. + +"Yes, you look like yourself again," spoke up Anna Fleming, "you were +quite pale when you first came in. Has your headache all gone?" + +"My headache?" + +"Yes; they said you didn't come down to dinner last night on account of +a headache." + +"Oh yes, I forgot to ask you how you were, we were so full of Bessie's +Valentine party when you came in," said Myra, apologetically. Then, +politely: "You had to leave the Park yesterday almost directly after you +arrived there, some one said. 'Twas too bad. I didn't see you at all +after we entered, for I went at once over on the other side of the pond +with Anna and some of her friends. What a scattered party we were,--Anna +and I on one side and Kate and Hope on the other, and the rest I don't +know where: and how we straggled home,--Anna's friends in charge of us, +while Miss Thompson had another party and Miss Stephens still another." + +Dorothea forgot her embarrassment, forgot everything, as she listened to +these words, but the amazing fact that Kate had told neither Anna nor +Myra the story of yesterday's escapade,--and Anna was Kate's room-mate! +Could it be that Kate Van der Berg,--who had always been so ready to +find fault, to say disagreeable things, to put her--Dorothea--in the +wrong,--could it be possible that of her own will, her own thought, she +had refrained from repeating what she knew? And if she had, what was her +motive? Dorothea asked herself suspiciously, for she could not +understand how one so outspoken and lavish in her fault-finding could +suddenly put such restraint upon her tongue; for she could not +comprehend, this quick-tempered yet obtuse Dorothea, that a nature which +might be lavish of fault-finding and criticism upon certain occasions, +upon certain other occasions, from a nice sense of honor and generosity, +might also be able to keep a golden silence. Yet this was just what Kate +Van der Berg had done. She had had the impulse at the first to rush at +once to Myra, to whom she had already told so much, with this amazing +story of Dorothea's latest exploit. But a second impulse came to her,--a +kindly impulse of restraint, wherein she said to herself: "No, I won't +prejudice Myra any further, perhaps I've prejudiced her too much already +by what I've told her; at any rate, I'll keep silent about this affair." +How more than glad she was that she had thus kept silent when Myra's +innocently betrayed ignorance brought that look of surprise and relief +into Dorothea's face. And Dorothea, presently turning her gaze from Myra +to Kate herself, caught on the latter's face something of the expression +of this gladness, and experienced a fresh surprise thereat; but in this +surprise was mixed a little feeling of self-gratulation that matters +were turning out so easily and happily; and then her volatile spirits +began to rebound again, and her thoughts to run in this way,-- + +"How silly I've been to get so nervous and fidgety; but it's all owing +to Ray Armitage's behavior. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of +anyhow, and I dare say in her secret heart Kate Van der Berg _thinks_ I +haven't. Any way everything is blowing over beautifully now, and I'm not +going to bother about things another bit, not even about that horrid Ray +Armitage,--though I'll manage to get even with him yet!" And so solacing +herself, in this fashion, Dorothea's spirits continued to rise higher +and higher, and by Monday she was in her usual mental as well as bodily +condition, her headache and her heartache--if the latter term could be +employed to describe her pangs of sore mortification--no longer +conquering her. Indeed, so jubilant was the reactionary state of mind +following upon her depression, that she at once set about readjusting +various little plans to suit her present mood. One of these plans was +the determination she had made to refuse Bessie Armitage's invitation to +the birthday valentine party. It would only make the girls talk for her +to stay away, she concluded. It would be a great deal better plan to go +to the party, and show Ray Armitage that he wasn't of enough consequence +to keep her away. And when there she could manage to snub him +beautifully in a dozen different ways, though it _was_ in his own +house,--oh yes, in a dozen different ways, and be outwardly very polite +too; yes, indeed, _she_ knew how to do it! + +In thoughts and plans like these, the days flew swiftly by. "Next week," +Myra had informed them, the invitations were to be sent out, and she had +had _her_ information from Bessie herself, who was at that time confined +at home with a severe cold. Next week, and then another week would bring +the anticipated fourteenth. + + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +"But there must be some mistake, some accident, that has delayed yours, +for all the other girls received theirs yesterday," exclaimed Myra +Donaldson in surprise, when Dorothea mentioned the fact to her on +Tuesday of that following week, that she had not received her +invitation. "Yes, there must be some accident," reiterated Myra; "it no +doubt slipped out in some way, and you'll get it to-morrow." But +"to-morrow" came and went and Dorothea failed to receive the invitation. + +"Of course there must be some mistake," Anna Fleming also declared, when +_she_ was told of the fact; and then one and another echoed the same +declaration as they heard of the circumstance. Of course there was some +mistake! By Thursday, certainly, everybody thought the "mistake" would +be discovered and rectified; but Thursday too came and went, and Friday +passed by without the desired result. On Saturday morning Dorothea said +to Hope,-- + +"I--I wish you would do something for me, Hope." + +"Yes, certainly I will if I can," returned Hope. + +"Well, it's just this: I heard that you were going out to drive with +Kate Van der Berg this afternoon, and I wondered if you could--if you +_would_ call and see Bessie Armitage,--see how she is, you know--and +then--and then you might ask her--you might tell her about the +invitation,--that I hadn't received it. Of course _I_ don't want to +speak to her about it, but somebody else might, and she would want to be +told--she'd feel horribly--_I_ should, I'm sure, in her place if I +_wasn't_ told--if the mistake _wasn't_ rectified; and so I thought if +_you_ would just speak of it--" + +"Yes, indeed I will. I'm glad you asked me. I wonder I hadn't thought of +it myself, but I'll go round directly the first thing this afternoon," +responded Hope, cordially. + + * * * * * + +"Some mistake?" repeated Bessie Armitage, in a queer, hesitating, +questioning way, as Hope sat before her, waiting for the explanation +that she had expected would at once make everything right for Dorothea. + +"Yes, for she hasn't received her invitation at all, you understand," +answered Hope, thinking that Bessie had _not_ understood. + +"Yes?" began Bessie, and then stopped, her eyes cast down and the color +coming into her cheeks, while Hope and Kate glanced at each other in +embarrassed silence. What _did_ it mean? What _could_ be the matter? +They were wildly conjecturing all sorts of strange impossible things, +and Hope was just determining to break the dreadful silence with these +very questions, when Bessie looked up and said: + +"I'll tell you--I _must_ tell you; there wasn't any mistake--I knew that +Dorothea had no invitation." + +"Oh!" breathed Hope, faintly; and "Oh!" echoed Kate, in the same tone. + +"No, it was meant that she shouldn't have one; but I had written one, +and I was going to send it if--if my mother hadn't stopped it." + +"Your mother?" + +"Yes, my mother. I had already sent out quite a number of invitations, +and had just got another lot ready, when my mother came in and saw +Dorothea's name on one of the notes. The moment she saw it, she forbade +me to send it. Mother was at the New Year's party,--perhaps you +remember,--just at the last of it, when Dorothea was going on so, and +she took a great dislike to Dorothea then. Dorothea _was_ noisy, you +know. Mother thought she was very loud and underbred. But that--that +wasn't all. A little while ago some acquaintances of ours from +Philadelphia--the Cargills--were staying at the Waldorf. The next day +after they arrived, they went to a matinee at the Madison Square +Theatre, and saw there my brother Raymond, and with him a young girl. Of +course they thought the girl was some member of our family; and when he +went to speak to them, they asked him if that was another sister he had +with him, and he told them no; that it was only an acquaintance,--a girl +who was in a boarding-school in the city. Mrs. Cargill thought this was +very odd; and as Raymond was so young, she spoke about it to mamma. +Mamma was astonished, and she went straight to Raymond and asked him +what it all meant, and who the girl was; and Raymond had to tell the +whole story then,--that it was Dorothea Dering, from Miss Marr's school; +that he had invited her to go to the matinee with him, and that she had +accepted the invitation; and then that he had met her at the +skating-pond in Central Park, and had gone from there with her to the +theatre, unsuspected by any of the teachers. The minute mamma heard the +name, 'Dorothea Dering,' she recalled the New Year's party and +Dorothea's behavior there; and so, and so, don't you see, when she saw +Dorothea's name on the envelope, the other day, she thought of all these +things, and--and forbade my sending the note. I tried my best to get her +to let me send it; I told her what Anna Fleming had said to me,--that +Dorothea came from one of the first families of Massachusetts; that her +father was the Hon. James Dering, and all her people were in the very +best society. But the more I tried to talk Dorothea up in this way, the +more decided mamma grew; until, at last, she said that there had been +too much of this falling back upon one's family nowadays; that bad, loud +manners and rude behavior were not to be overlooked and excused on that +account, and that she didn't propose to overlook Dorothea's by having +her invited to her house. And when I said I thought that Raymond was as +much to blame, in _asking_ her to go to the matinee, as Dorothea was in +going, mamma said that that didn't help her case at all; that Raymond's +invitation was only the result of her own loud, free ways; that he would +never have thought of inviting her like that, if she had been a +different kind of girl. Oh,"--with a quick look at Hope and +Kate,--"mamma didn't altogether exonerate Raymond; she didn't think he +was altogether right, by any means; but then she does think--and so do +I, girls--that boys and young men are apt to treat a girl a good deal as +the girl treats them; and--and--Dorothea _was_ too forward with Raymond. +I saw it myself from the first; and she led him on,--she encouraged him +to treat her as he wouldn't have treated either of you two. She thought +he admired just those free, foolish ways of hers; but he didn't,--he was +only amused by them. Oh, I know Raymond; and I know if he had seen _me_ +going on with any one as Dorothea did, he would have scolded me well. It +wouldn't have amused him to have seen his sister going on so, to have +seen _me_ amusing any one like that. But, Hope, Kate, all the same, I +felt dreadfully at leaving Dorothea out,--dreadfully, for there I'd sent +off almost all the school invitations; there was no getting them back. +If I could have got them back, I would; and--yes, truly, I wouldn't have +sent any invitations to any one at Miss Marr's, if I had known I had got +to cut Dorothea. No; I wouldn't have sent one, and then I could have +explained it to the rest of you privately, or I could have said I +couldn't make so large a party this year. Yes, I would certainly have +done this if it hadn't been too late,--if mamma had only seen and +stopped Dorothea's invitation before the other school notes had been +sent. Yes, I would have done just that; and not because I'm at all fond +of Dorothea, but because I hate to hurt anybody's feelings, and to--to +make such a time. I should have gone back to school this week if it +hadn't been for this happening; but I'm not going now until after the +party, and I may not go until next term if my father will take me away +with him to Florida, where he is going next month; and I hope, oh, I +hope he will!" And here suddenly, to Hope and Kate's astonishment, this +quiet, self-contained Bessie Armitage covered her face with her hands +and burst into tears. + + +"Oh, Bessie! Bessie!" broke forth Hope and Kate, with a warm outrushing +of sympathy, and a desire to say something comforting,--"oh, Bessie, +Bessie!" and then suddenly they both stopped, for what could they say +further without saying something that would seem like a protest against +Mrs. Armitage's decision,--that, in fact, _would_ be a protest, for both +girls were protesting in their hearts at that moment, were saying +something like this to themselves,-- + +"What harm could it have done to let _this_ invitation go,--just this +one? They needn't ever have invited her again." And at that very moment, +as they were thus thinking, they heard the rings of a portiere slip +aside, and there was Mrs. Armitage herself, entering from the next room +with a kind look of concern on her face, and in another moment, after +her friendly greeting, she was saying,-- + +"Bessie has told you my decision about the invitation to Miss Dering, +and I dare say you think I am very stiff and hard, not to let the +invitation go,--that it can't make much difference for this once; but, +my dears, it is _this once_, this one party, where my little +ten-year-old Amy and her little cousins will be in amongst the older +ones, that _will_ make all the difference, for I don't want these little +girls to see such an exhibition of loud manners, and those--I hate to +say it--vulgar _flirting_ ways such as I saw New Year's evening. If it +were any other party, a party where there were older girls only, I might +have let the invitation go; but I have seen the ill effects of very +young girls like my Amy and her cousins being brought into contact even +for a short time with a handsome showy girl who does and says the kind +of things that Miss Dering does, especially when that girl is accepted +as a guest by their own friends; and so, if only for this one reason +apart from any other, don't you see, my dears, that I _couldn't_ let +this invitation go?" + +"Yes, I do see, I do see!" cried Kate, impulsively; "but--Mrs. Armitage, +do you think she--Dorothea will understand--will know that it is her own +fault?" + +"I--I think she will, I think she must," answered Mrs. Armitage. There +were tears in her eyes as she said this; and as she bent down and kissed +them good-by, both Hope and Kate felt the depth and sincerity of her +purpose, and respected her for it. + +"She's right, she's right of course!" burst forth Kate, as the two girls +were driving away together; "but, oh, I do wish she hadn't been quite so +right, quite so high-minded just now; for _what_ an uncomfortable time +is ahead of us! Oh, Hope, I pity you; what shall you--what _can_ you +tell Dorothea?" + +"I don't see that I can tell her anything but the truth." + +"Not the whole truth?" + +"What else could I tell her?" + +"My! I wouldn't be in your shoes for something! She'll be so furious, +she'll fall upon you,--you or anybody who is nearest,--and chew you into +mince-meat! Oh, Hope, don't tell her! Tell her--tell her--oh, I have +it--tell her that you spoke to Bessie about the invitation, and that +there was none sent because Bessie is offended with her for some +reason,--that you can't tell her what it is, but that she must go to +Bessie herself for the reason. There! there you are all fixed up, and +with the great high-minded muss shoved off on to the Armitage shoulders, +where it ought to be. Houp la! I'd dance a jig if I were out of the +carriage!" + +"But I--I sha'n't shove it off like that, Katy dear. I shall tell +Dorothea everything,--it is the only way. I shall tell her as gently as +I can, but I shall tell her. If I turn it off in the way you suggest, it +will make more trouble. She'll go to Bessie the minute she gets back and +say something disagreeable to her, or she'll treat her in an angry +disagreeable manner, and just as like as not say something,--something +purposely impertinent to irritate Bessie,--for she won't stop at +anything then." + +"But do you think it will be any better--do you think she'll be any less +angry if you tell her that it is Mrs. Armitage who is at the bottom of +the business?" + +"Yes, I do; I think it will be a great deal better. She'll be +angry,--she may be furious, as you say; but I shall tell her just how +Bessie felt about _not_ sending the note,--how she cried over it, and +how Mrs. Armitage felt; and Dorothea has too much sense not to see +herself, after the first burst of temper, that the whole thing has been +made too serious a matter for her to quarrel about it in a little petty +way. And then--then I think, after she gets over the anger, that she is +going to be helped by the whole experience, going to see what she has +never seen before,--that she is all in the wrong in her way of doing and +saying the things that she does, and that she will be left out of +everything if she doesn't do differently; and nothing--no, nothing but +something like this--would ever show her how she has been hurting +herself." + +"Well, you _may_ be right, Hope; but _I_ believe this spoilt baby will +scream and kick and bang her head in some sort of tantrum way, and then +she'll pack up her clothes and rush off to Boston, shaking the wicked +dirty dust of New York from her feet, and calling us all a lot of primmy +old maids, or something worse." + +Hope laughed a little, but she was more than a little anxious and +troubled; for, spite of her brave stand, she did have a very decided +dread of applying that heroic treatment of the whole truth to Dorothea; +and her dread by no means diminished as she went down the long corridor +and saw at the end of it Dorothea's room-door standing open, and within +the room Dorothea herself, humming a gay waltz as she shook out the +folds of the yellow gown; and "Oh," groaned Hope, "she's getting it +ready for the party; she thinks everything is all right, and she's so +sure she's going. Oh, dear!" + +And then it was, when Hope's heart was quaking with fear and pity, that +Dorothea glanced up from the yellow gown and cried out joyfully,-- + +"Oh, there you are! Come in, come in, and tell me all about it,--how the +mistake was made; and where is it,--the invitation?--you brought it with +you, didn't you?" + +"No--I--she--" + +"Thought it wasn't necessary,--that you could tell me? Was the note +lost?" went on Dorothea, in her headlong way of anticipating everything +as usual, and only brought up at last by Hope's faint, distressed cry +of-- + +"Oh, Dorothea, there wasn't any invitation!" + +"Wasn't any? What--what do you mean?" exclaimed Dorothea, dropping her +yellow gown to the floor, and staring with great dilating eyes at Hope. + +"I mean that Bessie--that Bessie didn't--that--that it was stopped--that +her--" + +"Her brother stopped it? Raymond Armitage? He was so mean as +that--because I resented the way he treated me there at the theatre? +He--he has told her some lie, then, and I will tell _her_--" + +"Oh, Dorothea, Dorothea, wait, wait--listen to me! It is not--it was not +her brother, not Raymond Armitage, who stopped it; it was--it was--their +mother--it was Mrs. Armitage." + +"Mrs. Armitage! and Raymond went to her--he got her to stop it? Oh, +how--" + +"No, no, he did not go to her. Oh, Dorothea," going forward and taking +Dorothea's hand, "won't you wait, won't you listen to me?" + +The soft touch of Hope's hand, the soft tone, so full of pity it sounded +like love, seemed to surprise Dorothea out of her gathering wrath for a +moment, and her own fingers closing over Hope's with a sudden clinging +movement, she answered hastily,-- + +"Yes, yes, I'll listen, I'll listen; go on, go on!" + +And Hope, holding the girl's hand with that soft, firm touch, went on to +tell her the story that was so difficult for her to tell,--that "whole +truth" that she had decided that Dorothea must now know once for all. As +gently as possible, the talk with Bessie, the interview with Mrs. +Armitage was given; nothing, not even the reference to the New Year's +party episode and its prejudicial effect, being withheld; and yet +through it all Dorothea made no interruption, made no sign to show her +feeling, beyond now and then a convulsive clutch at the hand that was +holding hers, and a gradual fading away of the hot red color that had +suffused her face at the start. As Hope felt this clutch of her fingers +now and then, as she saw toward the end of her story the increasing +pallor of her companion's face, she could not help a thrill of +apprehension, for these signs seemed to her the signs of a storm that +would presently break forth; and as she came to the end, the very end of +what she had to say, she had a feeling of trying to steady herself, to +hold herself in readiness to argue or assert or soothe, whichever method +might seem best suited to stem or stay the outbreak she expected. But +what--what did this mean--this dead silence that followed, when she had +ceased speaking? Was this the calm before the dreaded storm? And Hope, +who had lowered her eyes toward the end of her story, instinctively +looked up,--looked up to see great tears rolling down the colorless +cheeks before her, and over all the face a pale passion of emotion that +did not seem to be the passion of anger. Could it be the passion of pain +only? Could it be that there was to be no storm of angry protest and +defiance even at the very first? No, there was to be no storm of that +kind. Dorothea had again surprised her! + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +But as the fears and apprehensions that beset her began to lessen, +Hope's pity and sympathy rose afresh, and with added vigor. She was +thinking how best to express this pity and sympathy without striking a +note of criticism that might injure the effect of what she had placed +before Dorothea, when Dorothea herself showed the way, as she suddenly +said,-- + +"There's no use for me to stay here any longer. I'd better go home, +where people know me, and--and don't think my ways are so dreadful." + +There was no angry temper in this speech. Though the tone was rather +morose and bitter, it seemed to spring from a sudden appalled sense of +defeat and danger such as she had never heretofore experienced. And this +was just the situation. Hope's tact and kindness had presented the whole +truth so carefully that petty irritation was swallowed up in the +something serious that Dorothea herself but half comprehended, but from +which her first instinct was to flee,--to go home where people knew her +and didn't think her ways so dreadful. + +But, "No, no," Hope urged against this desire. "You must stay, +Dorothea,--stay and take a better place than you've ever taken before +with us; for you can, oh, you can, Dorothea. You can make us all love +and admire you if you have a mind to, if you won't--won't be _quite_ so +headlong, so--so sure you are right in some things, so--childish in some +ways." + +"_I_ childish! 'Tisn't childishness your Mrs. Armitage is finding fault +with!" blurted out Dorothea, in a bitter yet broken tone. + +"But it is just that. If you were small for our age instead of so big, +it would be called childishness; and as it is, I've heard you spoken of +as 'a spoilt child.' But you are so tall, so big, so womanly, most +people think you are a grown up young lady; and--and grown up young +_ladies_ don't go on just in the way that you do, Dorothea." + +"'Just the way that I do!' Oh, I laugh, and I make too much noise in my +fun, I suppose you think; but what's the reason the Brookside people and +the lots of people we know all about Brookside,--what's the reason they +don't find fault with my ways and leave me out of their parties?" + +"You are a stranger here, Dorothea. You must remember that we never have +the same freedom, or are looked upon quite the same, in a place where we +are strangers, as where we have always lived," answered Hope, gently. + +"Then it's all the more reason why I'd better go home, where people know +me and don't think my ways so dreadful." + +"Dorothea, you have told me once or twice that your cousin found fault +with your ways, and perhaps--if he had not been your cousin, have known +you so well--if you had been a stranger to him, he might not have made a +friendly allowance for you; and, Dorothea, tell me one thing: did you +ever--ever go on there at home as you have here,--receiving gifts and +attentions, and going to the theatre on the--on the sly?" + +"N--o." + +"If you had, and it had been found out, do you think it would have been +passed over unnoticed?" + +"N--o, I don't suppose it would, but I shouldn't have been treated like +this,--left out like this." + +"No; because--because, Dorothea, you and your family are not +strangers,--because you are well known, and people forgive friends for a +long time." + +"Then I'd better go back to them, I'd better go back to them, and I +will, I will! Oh, I can't stay here, Hope, I can't, I can't! I see how +you'll all feel, how you'll think that I've been a disgrace to the +school, when this gets out that Mrs. Armitage wouldn't have me at the +party, and I can't, I can't stay." + +"Dorothea, Dorothea!" and Hope knelt down by the couch where Dorothea +had flung herself in an agony of tears,--knelt down, and putting her +arms about the suffering girl begged her never for a moment to think +that either she or Kate or Bessie would speak to the other girls about +Mrs. Armitage's action in regard to the invitation. "No, they will never +know from us, Dorothea,--never, never." + +[Illustration: "HOPE KNELT DOWN BY THE COUCH WHERE DOROTHEA HAD FLUNG +HERSELF"] + +"But--but what wi--will they think whe--when I--I don't--go to the +party?" sobbed Dorothea. + +"Of course they'll think there's been a falling out of some kind, and +there has; but it isn't necessary that they should be told what it is, +is it?" + +"N--o, n--o, but it wi--will ge--get out somehow. You--you'll see, Hope, +and I--I can't--I can't stay, and have them talking about my--my being +left out on--on purpose li--like this." + +"But even if the truth did get out, it would be a great deal worse for +you to run away than to stay, for it would look--it would +_be_--cowardly. No, no, Dorothea! you must stay, and I--I will help you +all I can; I will be your friend, whatever happens, and so will Kate." + +"Whatever happens." When Hope said this, she had little thought that +anything further in connection with the matter was to happen. She had +spoken out of her deep pity and sympathy, to soothe and sustain Dorothea +through a hard crisis,--to soothe and sustain and strengthen her to do +the courageous thing. She was quite sure, as she had said, that neither +Bessie nor Kate would tell the story of the arrested invitation; but she +made it still surer by exacting a solemn promise from them not to do +so,--a promise as solemnly kept as it was made. And yet, and yet, +somehow and from somewhere--was it through Mrs. Armitage or Raymond, +both of whom had given their word to Bessie to make no mention of the +subject?--a whisper of the truth, found its way, before the week was +over, into the schoolroom circle. And before the week was over, Dorothea +knew it! She knew it by the suddenly withdrawn glances as she looked up; +she knew it by the suddenly changed conversation as she approached; she +knew it by numberless little signs and indications in all directions. +And Hope, when she was presently beset by eager questions from one and +another,--Had she heard? and what did she think? and could it be +true?--poor Hope had hard work to fence and parry and hold her ground +without violating the truth. She succeeded at last, however, in +silencing her questioners; but she was perfectly well aware that she had +_only_ silenced them as far as she herself was concerned. + +Kate Van der Berg also had a good deal of the same trying experience, +and bore it less amiably. + +"I'm sick to death of the whole subject," she said at length to Hope. "I +wish to mercy Dorothea Dering had never entered this house! But don't be +alarmed!" as she caught a startled look from Hope; "I'm not going to +back down. I'll be good to her, and I _do_ pity her." + +"Pity her! I should think anybody _might_ pity her," cried Hope, with +almost a sob. "It simply breaks my heart to see her." + +And to Dorothea, who came to her with this further trouble,--who said to +her, "You see, you see, it has all come out just as I thought it +would,"--to Dorothea she was an angel indeed, this sweet-souled +Hope,--an angel of real help in the stanch devotion of her +companionship, and the constant influence it exerted in soothing and +encouraging her to accept the condition of things as they were, and make +the best of them by making no aggressive protest. It was not easy for +Dorothea to pursue this course, and Hope could not help admiring the new +spirit of dignity which she seemed to develop in sticking to it. + +But there was a new element of knowledge coming to Dorothea through her +bitter experience. She had always heretofore been ready to fight against +any and every opposition, as I have shown. Now, for the first time, she +was beginning to feel the pressure of that great power of the great +world which we call the sentiment of society, and dimly but surely to +perceive that she must submit to it, or at least that, if she tried to +fight against it, it would be to her own destruction. But this new sense +of things, valuable though it was in its present restraining influence +and its promise of right development, did not tend to make Dorothea feel +easier or happier at the moment. Rather, the restraint chafed and +depressed her. In spite of this depression, however, she said no more +about going back to Brookside. She was discovering for herself that Hope +was right,--that it would be not only cowardly for her to run away, but +prejudicial to her interests in every direction. But how difficult it +was for her to live through these days with apparent calmness, only Hope +guessed. What Hope did not guess was the extent and power of her own +helpfulness at this crisis. Dorothea, however, was fully aware of it; +and one day,--it was the morning after the Valentine party,--when the +girls had naturally been very voluble in their reminiscences of the +evening, she said to Hope,-- + +"Hope, you've helped me to _live_ through this thing, and I shall always +remember it, and always, always love you for it. But for you I could +never have stayed here and stood things,--never, never, never!" + +Yet not then had she received the full measure of Hope's help. It was +when the days went by, and she found that the curiosity about herself +had subsided, she also found that in the indifference that had succeeded +this curiosity there was a shadow of something that she could give no +name to,--that she could not at once understand,--but that by and by she +came to know was that shadow of the world's disapproval that she had +been made acquainted with through Mrs. Armitage. It was then, when the +girl felt herself in the settled atmosphere of this shadow, that Hope +showed the full measure of her power to help. + +Not immediately realizing the condition of things, she could not +comprehend what seemed to her Dorothea's persistent shrinking from the +companionship of the others, and at last remonstrated with her in this +wise:-- + +"Dorothea, you mustn't keep by yourself, and neglect the girls, as you +do. It isn't right or sensible." + +And to this Dorothea had replied, with a mirthless laugh,-- + +"Neglect them! If there is any neglect going on, _I'm_ not guilty of +it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Just what I say. _I'm_ not neglecting anybody." + +"You mean--that--that they are neglecting _you_?" + +Dorothea nodded. She could not command her voice to speak further. + +Hope was about to protest,--to say that there must be a mistake,--that +_she_ had seen nothing, when suddenly the meaning of certain little +things, that she had but vaguely noticed at the time, flashed over her, +bringing the instantaneous conviction that Dorothea was right. And with +this conviction there sprung up in Hope's heart a hot flame of +indignation, and she set herself to think what further she could +do--what strong measure could be taken--to show these girls that they +were not to sit in judgment in this wholesale fashion, and to show them, +too, that Dorothea had stanch friends who believed in her virtues, even +while they admitted her faults, and would stand by her through thick and +thin. + +But what _could_ she do further? She had indicated to the girls how +friendly she felt toward Dorothea, by bestowing upon her whatever kindly +attentions she could,--had walked with her and talked with her, and made +little visits to her room, which latter she had never been in the habit +of doing before. She had also influenced Kate to join her in these +attentions, and Kate had tried to do so,--not always successfully, +however; and yet all this had seemed to go for nothing against the tide +that had risen against the girl. What more _could_ be done? There was +nothing, nothing more. + +Yes, yes, yes, there _was_--there _was_ something more, there _was_ +something! And as this "something" flashed into Hope's mind, she seized +Dorothea's hands in hers, and-- + +"Dorothea, Dorothea!" she cried, "I have a plan,--something I want you +to do _for_ me and _with_ me. I am to play, you know, at the May +festival,--first, something Mr. Kolb has written specially for me; then, +later, a waltz also by Mr. Kolb. It is a duet, and Fraulein Schiller was +to play it with me; but she has got news of the illness of her mother, +and has gone home to Germany, and I have to choose some one to fill her +place; and I choose you, if you will take it." + +"Choose me,--_me_? Oh, Hope, Hope, Hope, I don't care for anything else +now,--not anything else! But, oh, _can_ I, _can_ I,--I'm afraid it's too +hard, that it's beyond me." + +"No, it isn't too hard, but I'll give you lessons; I'll practise with +you every day, if you'll study hard." + +"Study! I'll study every minute that I can get;" and then, quivering +with excitement, Dorothea flung herself upon the floor, and, putting her +head down on Hope's lap, cried brokenly,-- + +"Oh, Hope, Hope, how angelic of you to do this for me _now, now_!" + +It was the last of March when this proposition was made, and the +festival was to come off the last of May, that being the end of the +school year at Miss Marr's; the festival itself being a sort of +celebration of the year's work,--a grand general class day. + +To have a special part assigned to one in the program of this day was to +be specially honored, and great was the surprise when it was found that +Dorothea had been thus honored. + +There were two or three others--outside pupils, to be sure, but Fraulein +Schiller was an outside pupil--from whom it was expected that Hope would +make her choice, as they were known to be, if not particularly +brilliant, yet very faithful students of the violin; and to pass these +by for Dorothea was surprising indeed, and not to be explained by any +mere good-nature. Hope Benham _was_ a very good-natured girl, and had +been very kind and polite to Dorothea, the little school circle decided; +but they all knew how refined and fastidious and very, _very_ sensitive +she was, and what she thought about things; and if she thought seriously +that Dorothea had really--_really_ been so dreadfully loud and horrid as +they had heard, she would never have chosen her to stand up there before +all that festival audience with her. And arguing thus, this little +world, so like the big world under like circumstances, began to +re-consider things,--to think that perhaps--perhaps it might have made +mistakes in ranging itself so decidedly, and that it might be well in +that case to be a little less censorious in one's attitude. From this +there arose a slight change of tactics,--slight, but significant enough +if one were on the alert to take note of them; but Dorothea--Dorothea +was no longer so sensitively alert in these directions,--for morning, +noon, and night, at every regular practice hour, and sometimes at +irregular ones, her fiddle bow could be heard diligently at work, under +Hope's tutelage; and as she worked, as she surmounted difficulty after +difficulty in the musical score, she became so absorbed in her +occupation that she had little time to bestow upon other difficulties. +And so, day after day, the weeks went by, and brought at last the great +day they were all anticipating so anxiously,--the day of the May +Festival. + +It looked like the very heart of summer in the great hall at the top of +the house that festival morning, for it was literally made into a +perfect bower of wood and garden glories; windows, dome, aisles, and +stage wreathed and hung with forest growths, and set about with +flowering plants. At the back of the stage the arched doorway that led +into the anteroom was so skilfully decorated that it appeared like a +natural opening into some woodland way; and as the audience began to +fill the seats, and there came to them through this sylvan opening a +soft overture from unseen violins and piano, there was at first a hush +of delight and then a general burst of applause. The group of girls who +were not to take special parts and who sat together well down in front, +looked at each other inquiringly. The overture was a surprise to them, +as it was to all but the two or three behind the scenes. + +"It is Hope's doing, of course," one girl whispered. "And of course the +second violin is Dorothea!" whispered another, and then presently still +another whisper arose. It was Hope's doing, of course--because--Dorothea +probably had failed to perfect herself in the duet she had +undertaken--or--or Hope herself perhaps had failed in her courage to--to +stand up there before that festival-audience with Dorothea! This last +suggestion was caught at and turned over and over, until at length it +seemed to become a certainty. Yes, that was the only explanation of this +little overture being sprung upon them without warning. Hope's courage +had failed, and to console Dorothea in a measure, she had brought her +into this new arrangement! + +The little group of girls would not have owned to the disappointment +that they felt as they settled down upon this explanation; but with all +the Armitages, except Raymond, present in full force, every girl of the +group had somehow counted upon rather a sensation when Dorothea +appeared. How Bessie would stare, they had thought--Bessie, who had not +been back to school since her birthday party,--how she would stare and +wonder, and how surprised Mrs. Armitage would look to see the girl that +she had so disapproved of brought forward so conspicuously! But +now--well, things began to fall a trifle flat in the failure of such a +delectable sensation, and they gave a somewhat wavering attention to +what immediately followed. They brightened up, however, as Hope played +her "Mayflowers," and, applauding vigorously, found time to wonder what +that queer sub-title, "Ten Cents a Bunch," meant, and resolved that they +would ask her sometime; and then they yawned and fidgeted, and looked at +their little chatelaine watches, and craned their necks to look at the +people behind them, and nodded at this one and that one, and finally +fell to studying their programs, and glanced significantly, and with a +little air of "I told you so," at each other, as they saw that the duet +number had just been passed over. After this they settled themselves +comfortably back to wait for the close of the exercises, when the best +of the festival to their thinking was to come,--the meeting with their +friends, the introductions to the other girls' friends, the gay talking +and walking about, and the merry end of it all, when, as if by magic, +the pretty bowery stage was to be converted into a sylvan tea-room, +presided over by a chosen number of the school-girls. + +Only two brief exercises,--a short essay by Anna Fleming and a little +aria of Schumann's by Myra Donaldson, and then ho, for the anticipated +festival fun, these waiting girls jubilantly thought; and so absorbed +were they in this thought that their attention was only half given to +Anna's clever little essay upon School Friendships, which had some sharp +hits in it; but they nevertheless joined in the vigorous applause, +though by that time their attention had entirely wandered from the stage +to the movements of a new late arrival just outside the doorway,--a tall +fine-looking man that Mrs. Sibley, Hope's friend, was smiling radiantly +upon, and beckoning to her seat. Who _could_ he be? But hark! what--what +sound was that? A violin? But Schumann's aria was a solo,--Hope was not +to play with Myra! No, no, Hope was not to play with Myra, for +there--there upon the stage, Hope in her white dress was standing +beside--Dorothea! The duet had not been omitted then, only carried +forward! + + +No more yawning and fidgeting now from the group of girls; with eager +interest they leaned forward to see the two white-robed figures as they +stood there side by side,--one with her waving golden-brown hair, her +golden-brown eyes, and fair soft coloring; the other with her shining +black locks, her great sombre orbs,--for there was no light of laughter +in them at this moment,--and the strange pallor of coloring that at that +instant lent almost a tragic look to her face. No, no more yawning and +fidgeting now, and no more doubt or question of Dorothea's ability to +play her part, as the sweet full strains rose harmoniously together. +Dorothea had studied, indeed,--had studied so ardently that she had +greatly surprised Hope at the last by her accuracy and finish. But as +she stood there before the festival audience, she surprised her still +further by the something more than the accuracy and finish,--that +something that every musical artist recognizes, that Hope at once +recognized,--the touch of living, breathing, individual emotion, of +passionate personal appeal. With a thrill of sympathy, Hope +instinctively responded to this, and there arose a strain of such +moving, melting power that the audience, listening in breathless +delight, broke forth at the end in a little whirlwind of applause. + +The aria that followed was beautifully rendered, but the audience could +not seem to fix its attention upon it as it should have done; and Myra +had scarcely struck her last note when there was a general uprising, and +hastening forward toward the little flock of girl-students who had taken +part in the exercises. In the centre of this flock, standing together, +were Hope and Dorothea, and there was a buzz of girl talk going on about +them,--a buzz of congratulation, of enthusiasm, not one of the girls +hanging back,--when over it all, Hope suddenly caught the sound of +another voice,--a deep manly voice,--the voice of--of--oh, could it be? +Yes, yes, it was; and starting forward, she cried joyfully, "Oh it +_is_--it _is_ my father!" and the next instant her father's arms were +round her, and his kisses on her cheek. + +Her father! Dorothea glanced up eagerly. _That_, that +distinguished-looking man the man who was once a locomotive engineer! +Had she heard aright? Yes, she had heard aright, for presently there was +Mrs. Sibley saying in answer to some questioner,-- + +"It's her father, yes; he's the great inventor, you know. He came on +unexpectedly, and is to take Hope back with him to spend the summer in +the north of France." + +And presently, again, Dorothea saw Miss Marr and the Van Der Bergs and +the Sibleys and--yes, the Armitages, looking up and listening with the +most admiring interest to this man who was once a locomotive engineer! + +What would Dorothea have thought, how would she have felt, if she had +heard Mrs. Armitage say to one of her acquaintances a little later,-- + +"There must be something fine and good, after all, in this Dorothea +Dering, to attract to herself and make a friend of such a girl as Mr. +Benham's daughter; and certainly she has shown a very refined taste in +her manner of playing. I wonder if she hasn't been improved all round by +Miss Benham's influence?" + +And what would she have thought if she had heard Miss Marr talking in +somewhat the same strain to Mr. Benham,--telling him what a restraining, +refining influence his dear little daughter had had over one of the most +difficult of all her charges; and what would she have felt if she could +have known all Mr. Benham's thoughts on this subject as he listened +there with that rather grave smile of his? + +But Dorothea heard and knew nothing of all this. She only heard and felt +the warmth of appreciation that had followed her violin performance. She +only saw that the little world that had turned away from her was now +turning toward her, and her spirits began to rise once more. But they +did not overflow all reasonable bounds as before. There was a new +reserve in her demeanor that certainly did not rob her of her +attractiveness, if one could judge from the kindly looks cast upon her +by some of the older people, as she helped in the tea-table +hospitalities. + +Some of the younger people too seemed not to be blind to this new +attractiveness. But it remained for Peter Van Loon to express the real +effect produced, and he did it fully, as he suddenly turned to Hope from +a long observation of Dorothea at her tea-table duties,--turned and said +in that odd way of his,-- + +"I say, now, she'll get to be an awfully nice girl by and by, won't she, +if she keeps on--on this track?" + +Hope felt a little startled, though she couldn't help being amused at +this queer remark of Peter's; but she quite agreed with it, and told him +so; and then Peter said in the same emphatic way,-- + +"I've heard all about it--how you've stuck to her--from Kate--Kate Van +der Berg; and I'd--I'd like to say, if you don't mind, that you're a +trump, Miss Benham; and the other fellows think so too." + + +THE END. + + + + +KATHARINE RUTH ELLIS + + +WIDE AWAKE GIRLS SERIES + + +THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS + +Illustrated by Sears Gallagher. + +A book doubly remarkable because its excellent workmanship comes from a +hand hitherto untried.--_New York Times._ + +Its excellent literary tone, simple, refined, and its frequent humor and +fresh, strong interest commend it as a most promising first volume of +"The Wide Awake Girls" series.--_Hartford Times._ + +The quiet and cultured home life presented forms a pleasing contrast to +the more showy and hollow life of the wealthy and wins the reader by a +strong and subtle spell. The whole story is fresh and bracing and full +of good points and information as well.--_St. Louis Globe Democrat._ + + +THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS AT WINSTED + +Illustrated by Sears Gallagher. + +It is another charming book, without sentimentality or gush about the +four girls who made such a jolly quartette in the preceding +story.--_Philadelphia Press._ + +Incidents are many, and the story is vivaciously told. The tone +throughout is refined and the spirit stimulating.--_Brooklyn Daily +Times._ + +Those who read the first volume of Katharine Ruth Ellis' "Wide Awake +Girls" series last year will welcome the second volume. They will +encounter again the same four girls of the previous book, all at +Catharine's home in Winsted, and they will find them just as vivacious +and entertaining as ever.--_Chicago Tribune._ + + +THE WIDE AWAKE GIRLS AT COLLEGE + +Illustrated by Sears Gallagher. + +The third volume in the "Wide Awake Girls" series finds the four friends +at Dexter, where they live the happy, merry life of the modern college +girl. Miss Ellis still maintains the atmosphere of quiet refinement, and +has introduced an older element, which lends much to the interest of the +book--the element of love and romance. The "Wide Awakes" are growing up +and Catharine's love story delights her associates. + + + + +ANNA HAMLIN WEIKEL'S BETTY BAIRD SERIES + + +BETTY BAIRD + +Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown. + +A boarding school story, with a charming heroine, delightfully narrated. +The book is lively and breezy throughout.--_Philadelphia Press._ + +A true presentment of girl life.--_Chicago Evening Post._ + +Betty is a heroine so animated and charming that she wins the reader's +affection at once. When she enters the boarding school she is shy, +old-fashioned, and not quite so well-dressed as some of the other girls. +It is not long, however, before her lovable character wins her many +friends, and she becomes one of the most popular girls in the +school.--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + +The illustrations, by Ethel Pennewill Brown, are remarkably successful +in their portrayal of girlish spirit and charm.--_New York Times._ + + +BETTY BAIRD'S VENTURES + +Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown. + +Will please the girls who liked the piquant and original Betty, when she +first appeared in the volume bearing her name.--_Hartford Times._ + +The very spirit of youth is in these entertaining pages.--_St. Paul +Pioneer Press._ + + +BETTY BAIRD'S GOLDEN YEAR + +Illustrated by Ethel Pennewill Brown. + +In the third and concluding volume of "The Betty Baird Series," Betty is +shown happily at work in her profession, still earnest in her purpose to +pay off the mortgage, and in the meantime to make her home a centre of +useful interests. + + + + +ANNA CHAPIN RAY'S "TEDDY" STORIES + + +Miss Ray's work draws instant comparison with the best of Miss Alcott's: +first, because she has the same genuine sympathy with boy and girl life; +secondly, because she creates real characters, individual and natural, +like the young people one knows, actually working out the same kind of +problems; and, finally, because her style of writing is equally +unaffected and straightforward.--_Christian Register_, Boston. + + +TEDDY: HER BOOK. A Story of Sweet Sixteen + +Illustrated by Vesper L. George. + +This bewitching story of "Sweet Sixteen," with its earnestness, +impetuosity, merry pranks, and unconscious love for her hero, has the +same spring-like charm.--_Kate Sanborn._ + + +PHEBE: HER PROFESSION. A Sequel to "Teddy: Her Book" + +Illustrated by Frank T. Merrill. + +This is one of the few books written for young people in which there is +to be found the same vigor and grace that one demands in a good story +for older people.--_Worcester Spy._ + + +TEDDY: HER DAUGHTER + +A Sequel to "Teddy: Her Book," and "Phebe: Her Profession" + +Illustrated by J. B. Graff. + +It is a human story, all the characters breathing life and +activity.--_Buffalo Times._ + + +NATHALIE'S CHUM + +Illustrated by Ellen Bernard Thompson. + +Nathalie is the sort of a young girl whom other girls like to read +about.--_Hartford Courant._ + + +URSULA'S FRESHMAN. A Sequel to "Nathalie's Chum" + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +The best of a series already the best of its kind.--_Boston Herald._ + + +NATHALIE'S SISTER. A Sequel to "Ursula's Freshman" + +Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. + +Peggy, the heroine, is a most original little lady who says and does all +sorts of interesting things. She has pluck and spirit, and a temper, but +she is very lovable, and girls will find her delightful to read +about.--_Louisville Evening Post._ + + + + +ANNA CHAPIN RAY'S "SIDNEY" STORIES + + + +SIDNEY: HER SUMMER ON THE ST. LAWRENCE + +Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. + +The young heroine is a forceful little maiden of sweet sixteen. The +description of picnics in the pretty Canadian country are very gay and +enticing, and Sidney and her friends are a merry group of wholesome +young people.--_Churchman_, New York. + + +JANET: HER WINTER IN QUEBEC + +Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. + +Gives a delightful picture of Canadian life, and introduces a group of +young people who are bright and wholesome and good to read about.-_-New +York Globe._ + + +DAY: HER YEAR IN NEW YORK + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +A good story, bright, readable, cheerful, natural, free from +sentimentality.--_New York Sun._ + + +SIDNEY AT COLLEGE + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +The book is replete with entertaining incidents of a young woman who is +passing through her freshman year at college.--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + + +JANET AT ODDS + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +An ideal book for an American girl. It directs a girl's attention to +something beside the mere conventional side of life. It teaches her to +be self-reliant. Its atmosphere is hopeful and helpful.--_Boston Globe._ + + +SIDNEY: HER SENIOR YEAR + +Illustrated by Harriet Roosevelt Richards. + +This delightful story completes the author's charming and popular series +of Sidney Books. Day, Janet, and a host of their bright friends meet +again at Smith College, where Sidney is the President of the Senior +Class, and their gayety fill the pages with spirited incidents. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hope Benham, by Nora Perry + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOPE BENHAM *** + +***** This file should be named 36105.txt or 36105.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/0/36105/ + +Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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