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Brenda, Her School and Her Club

<h2>IV</h2> <h3>A CLUB MEETING</h3> The strange procession had not gone very far when Nora heard some one behind calling her name. It was Miss Crawdon, who, as Nora turned around, signalled her to stop. "Oh, Brenda, Miss Crawdon wishes to speak to us." In a moment their teacher had overtaken them. "I must reconsider my promise to you, or at least, Nora, you partly misunderstood what I said. It will not do at all for you to go home with this little boy. Your mother would blame me very much." "Oh, Miss Crawdon," pouted Brenda. Nora, too, showed her disappointment. "Now, Brenda, consider what it means. In the first place it is uncertain whether or not you could find his home. In the second place you might have to go into some dirty street or alley. With your mother's consent I should have nothing to say, but as it is——" "Well, can't we go as far as Scollay Square? We could get a car there and go straight home." Miss Crawdon hesitated a moment. "As it happens," she replied, "I have to go in that direction myself. We will walk together, and I will see you safely on your car. Mrs. Brown and Manuel may lead the way." "Isn't he cunning!" exclaimed Brenda, as the little boy looked over his shoulder at the girls, with one little hand doubled up against his eye, and his other clutching Mrs. Brown's skirt. "I wish he would talk to us," responded Nora. "Where do you live, little boy?" Manuel smiled knowingly. "There," he said, waving his hand indefinitely toward the Square, across which the electric cars were whizzing. "Oh, no," cried Nora, "nobody lives there; there are shops and a hotel, and——" "Birdies, birdies, there," cried Manuel. Even Miss Crawdon smiled as Manuel ran up to a shop window, and pounded the glass, somewhat to the dismay of the parrots exhibited there in their cages. "Well, he seems to know this shop," said Mrs. Brown. "We might wait here for a minute." At the other side of the shop around the corner was a doorway in which sat a woman with a basket of fruit for sale. Manuel himself was the first to catch sight of her, and rushing forward with a flying leap, he almost knocked her basket over. The little boy had found his tongue, and chattering like a magpie, he pointed toward the ladies. The woman, rising from the step on which she had been sitting, came toward the little group. In broken English she explained that Manuel was her youngest boy, and that sometimes she let him go with her on her round of fruit-selling. Lately she had had her stand near this bird store, and in some way on this particular day, Manuel had wandered away from her. "You must have been worried," said Nora. "Oh, no," she answered philosophically; "me thought him gone home." Then Brenda, who had hitherto kept silent, broke in with a graphic account of the fate Manuel had escaped through Nora's bravery. The mother probably only half comprehending the young girl's rapid flow of words, smiled and showed her white teeth. "T'ank you, t'ank you," she said. "You come and see him some day," she added, in a general invitation to the group. "Come, girls, we must hasten," said Miss Crawdon. "Mrs. Brown will take down Manuel's address. Then, if your mothers are willing, you may go to see him some day." Rather reluctantly Nora and Brenda bade good-bye to black-eyed Manuel and his mother. They gave Mrs. Brown many injunctions to make no mistake about his house and street. On Saturday they both hoped to be able to go to see him. To them the whole thing presented the aspect of an adventure. "I never spoke to a foreigner before in Boston, did you?" said Nora, "I mean except French teachers," she added. "No, not a poor foreigner," responded Brenda. "Wasn't that woman picturesque, with her shawl over her head?" As they drew near home both girls began to feel a little doubtful as to the wisdom of what they had done. "Well, your mother never scolds," said Brenda, as she bade good-bye to Nora at the door of the latter. "Why, yours doesn't either," exclaimed Nora. "Oh, you don't know," and Brenda shook her head. "There's Julia now——" "Nonsense," laughed Nora, running up the steps. "Good-bye, now. I'm coming to see Julia this afternoon. You know I expect to like her." "Your lunch is waiting, Miss Brenda," said the maid as Brenda started up the front stairs toward her room. "Oh, I've had my luncheon," replied Brenda. "You don't think I'd wait until this time." "Brenda," called her mother from the library, "it's half-past three. Where have you been since school?" "Oh, dear!" grumbled Brenda to herself. "I don't see why I have to give an account of every step I take. I'll be down in a minute," she called out, as she continued her way upstairs. When she descended to the library, she hastened forward with a polite "Good-afternoon" to Julia, who was seated before the fire with a book in her lap. "Julia has been reading to me," said her mother. "We have had a very pleasant hour," added Julia. "But tell me where you have been," said Brenda's mother. "You know that it is a rule that you should come directly home——" Brenda tossed her head. "Oh, I asked Belle to come and tell you." "She may have left word that you were not coming, I think that Thomas gave me some message, but let us hear where you have been." Mrs. Barlow spoke pleasantly, for she knew by the cloud on Brenda's face that there might be a storm if for the present she said too much about her absence from luncheon. "Yes," added Julia, "do tell us where you have been. I have an idea that you have had an adventure." "How could you guess?" exclaimed Brenda, and then, with the ice broken by these words of Julia's, she gave her mother an animated account of Nora's bravery, Manuel's beauty and the fruit-woman's picturesqueness. Mrs. Barlow and Julia were interested. Brenda had a graphic way of telling a story, and the events of the morning lost nothing by her telling. But Mrs. Barlow shook her head when Brenda spoke of visiting Manuel in his home. "It might not be at all a proper place," she said, "and besides, Manuel's mother may not care to have strangers visit her. Poor people sometimes are very sensitive about such things." Before Brenda had time to argue this point with her mother, the porti�re was pushed aside and Belle and Edith came into the room. Julia rose to shake hands with Belle, while Edith with a very sweet smile, stepping toward her, said: "I am glad to see you. I am one of 'the Four.' Brenda's told you about us. I am Edith." Julia felt strongly drawn to the pleasant-faced girl. She liked her better than Belle, although on the two occasions of their meeting the latter had been markedly polite to her. "Yes, we're all here now except Nora. We ought to be ready to give her a serenade, or something like that when she comes. She's really a kind of a heroine, isn't she?" "Oh, nonsense, Edith," said Belle. "She did not actually do so very much. Those horses were not running away, and a little paddy like that child has as many lives as a cat." "He isn't a paddy," interrupted Brenda, "but a Portuguese,—a dear little Portuguese—and Nora was very brave. It's just like you, Belle, to think that a thing isn't of any account unless you have had something to do with it." Belle was silent. In the presence of a stranger she never forgot her good manners, and Julia was still sufficiently a stranger to act as a check on the sharp reply which otherwise might have risen to her lips. Edith now came in as a peacemaker. "Well, it was great fun to have anything out of the ordinary happen at school. You can't imagine," turning to Julia, "how stupid it is to have things go on in the same way day after day. Last week there was a fire alarm about two blocks away, and just think, the engines passed scarcely five minutes after recess was over, and Miss Crawdon wouldn't let us run out to see where the fire was." "Naturally not," said Mrs. Barlow, as she left the room, adding, as she passed out, "By the time you are ready, Julia, the carriage will be here." "Yes, Aunt Anna," answered Julia, and she, too, after a few pleasant words with Edith, excused herself with the explanation that her aunt had promised to accompany her to do some important errands down town. "Come upstairs with me," said Brenda, with an air of relief, as Julia left. "There's Nora, now, I know her ring of the bell." Nora soon joined the other three in Brenda's pretty bedroom. "Here we are, all four together again," exclaimed Brenda, as she threw herself down on the chintz-covered sofa. "It's so much pleasanter not to have any strangers about." "Do you call your cousin a stranger?" asked Nora. "Why, yes, any one can see that she's terribly serious, and that she won't take a bit of interest in the things we do." "Aren't you going to ask her to join the Four Club?" "Well, then it wouldn't be a Four Club. Besides five is a horrid number. You never can plan things together when there are five." "But you can't leave her out." "I don't see why not. She'll have other things to do in the afternoon—like to-day. We needn't tell her about the Club at all, need we?" Edith and Nora, to whom Brenda seemed to appeal, said nothing. Belle was looking out of the window, and though she usually would have agreed with Brenda, they had lately had so many little disagreements, that she would not gratify her friend by assenting to her words. Brenda, however, perceiving that her views were not shared by the other three girls, decided to avoid discussing Julia any further. "Let us come to order like a club," she exclaimed, "and decide what we shall work for this winter." In the preceding spring the four friends had decided that it would be very interesting to give their occasional meetings a club form. Instead of passing their afternoons in mere idle talk, they would have some object. They would all do fancy work, and perhaps have a sale in the spring for some charity. Each of the girls had already spent all her spare pocket-money on materials for needlework, although as yet they had made but little headway in their work. Nor had they decided for what object the sale should be held. "It's a good deal like counting your chickens before they are hatched," Mrs. Barlow had said when Brenda consulted her on the subject. "It would be better to wait until you have enough work for a sale, before deciding what to do with your money." In her heart Mrs. Barlow doubted that the girls would make enough money to be worth giving to any institution. She doubted even that they would persevere in their work, and have a sale. Brenda, herself, was too apt to begin with enthusiasm some undertaking which after a while she would let languish until it came to nothing. In this case Brenda was indignant at her mother's want of faith. "Now you know that I'm older than I used to be, and I'm perfectly in earnest about wanting an object to work for." "Very well, Brenda," said Mrs. Barlow smiling, "I certainly will not interfere, only you must give me time to think of a beneficiary for your money." Now if the girls had started with a definite object to work for, their club meetings would have lost much of their interest. As it was, more than half their time was spent in earnest discussions of the merit of different institutions. Edith thought that a hospital was the noblest object of charity, although the others objected that the City or the State usually looked after hospitals. Nora hoped their money would be given to some orphan asylum, or a home for old persons, Belle believed that there was nothing so worthy as the Institution for the Blind, and Brenda changed her point of view from week to week. "What are we to work for this week, Brenda?" asked Belle, somewhat derisively, as she opened her sewing-bag. "Oh, I don't know. We're not working for anything in particular." Then, as her eye met Nora's, a new idea came. "Oh, I'll tell you what, girls,—let us work for—Manuel!" <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/></div> <h3>"'Oh, I'll tell you what, girls,—let us work for—Manuel!'"</h3> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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