Brenda, Her School and Her Club
Copyright© 2024 by Helen Leah Reed
Chapter 27: A Mistake
Brenda, herself, was too sleepy that night when she reached home, to express her surprise at Julia’s having bought the picture. Yet she certainly wondered that the cousin whom she had hitherto regarded as bound down to economy, should have been able to spend so large a sum for a single purchase. Julia on her part was not surprised at her cousin’s indifference, for Brenda had a way of seeming curious or especially interested only in relation to things that immediately concerned her. When they had separated, and Julia was alone in her own room, she had opportunity for the first time since the morning for thinking over all the events of the day. Her place at the Bazaar had been a very pleasant one, and while she had not had much to do with any of the girls except Ruth, her attention had been constantly occupied in disposing of her flowers. Philip and his friends had been especially good patrons, and the former had taken the chances that came to him of going up to the table and talking to Julia on one thing and another, not always connected with the Bazaar or with the Rosas. In spite of a certain amount of conceit—and what young sophomore is without this quality—Philip was really a very agreeable fellow, and in Julia he had some one ready to listen to him more attentively than was Edith’s habit, or indeed that of the other girls. For Belle, for example, although she liked what she called “attention” from the boys of her set, wished to have the conversation turn entirely upon herself and her own affairs, and she always showed impatience when the person with whom she was talking turned to any other subject. Now Philip—though in this he was not so very different from other young men—liked to have some one to talk to who would listen sympathetically to his tales of college triumphs, or grievances, and occasionally give him a word of advice. In Julia he found not only an attentive listener, but an intelligent adviser. So although the Bazaar was not just the place for confidences, he had been able to have several pleasant little snatches of conversation with Julia. She had enjoyed these little fragmentary talks as much as Philip had, and they both had had much amusement from his rather clumsy attempts to help her in arranging bouquets for her customers.
Julia, therefore, had many pleasant things to recall connected with the Bazaar, and not the least pleasant was the fact that she had been able to contribute a good deal toward helping the Rosas.
The one strange feature of the whole affair had been the sudden departure of Madame Du Launy. “And why,” mused Julia, “did Miss South go away without bidding me good-bye? I know that she meant to stay until evening. Well, perhaps it will all be explained. Though certainly now I cannot understand it all. Perhaps to-morrow—” and here Julia fell asleep with the question still unsettled.
Early the next morning—as soon at least as she had had her breakfast, Julia started off to find Miss South, but the maid at her boarding-house said that she had gone out and probably would not be back before evening; with this she had to be content, although in addition to general enquiries about the strange event of the day before, she wished to talk over with Miss South some of the plans which they had been discussing for the assistance of the Rosa family. They had been finally successful in getting Mrs. Rosa to promise to go to the country for the summer, if for no longer a time. They had found a house in Shiloh, a small village with elevated land not so very far from Boston, and they were sure that a residence there would benefit the sick woman. A man whom Miss South knew, who had been at one time given up by the doctors as in hopeless consumption, had moved to this village, and after a year had been pronounced almost well. He had opened a little shop there, his children had found employment for their spare hours, and the family had at last started on the high road to prosperity. This was a great change for them, for during their father’s illness in town, they had often had to have charitable relief. Miss South’s plan for Mrs. Rosa included a certain amount of work for the family. A farmer had been found who promised to employ the oldest boy, and a woman who took summer boarders said that she could pay Angelina two dollars a week, to help in her kitchen, if she could sleep at home. The house which they had selected had a small piece of land where it was hoped that Mrs. Rosa could raise some vegetables.
To accomplish what they wished, considerable money was needed, and they had enlisted Brenda’s interest to so great an extent that she professed herself perfectly willing to have the money raised at the Bazaar used to rent and equip the house, and pay the many little expenses that would be caused by the enterprise. “As Brenda really has been interested in Manuel, it would be hardly fair to leave her out of this plan, although,” said Julia, “although we might get on without her help.”
“Oh, dear, no,” Miss South had said, “it would never in the world do to overlook Brenda. She is an impulsive little thing, and although Mrs. Rosa and the children might have fared badly this winter, had they had no one but Brenda to depend on, still it is a great advance for Brenda to be interested in some one besides herself, and it is excellent discipline for her to have a certain share in carrying out this plan. It is not altogether a matter of money.”
Now, Brenda, of course, in deciding to favor the plan proposed by Miss South was not acting entirely for herself. Edith, Nora, and Belle were as much concerned as she, and Nora in fact, as the rescuer of Manuel, was more interested than any of the others. Belle, the only one who might have been expected to oppose Miss South’s plan, really had no objection to it. Her one thought in the whole matter had been to get as much pleasure and glory as possible out of the Bazaar itself. Edith, while practical about some things, —needlework for example, and lessons, —seldom put her mind on money matters, and Nora was as heedless about this as about other things. Brenda was almost as heedless, and yet The Four had thought it perfectly proper that she should be treasurer of their little fund.
So it happened that on the very morning when Julia was trying to find Miss South, Brenda had received from Mrs. Blair’s hands four crisp one hundred dollar notes. This was a little more than had been taken at the Bazaar. But in getting the loose bills and cheques changed into more compact form, Mrs. Blair had added enough to make the sum an even four hundred dollars.
The other three girls were with Brenda as she received the money from Mrs. Blair, and immediately they sat down to count up the expenses that must be paid from their receipts. Rather to Mrs. Blair’s surprise these expenses mounted up to more than one hundred dollars, and she scolded The Four a little for having engaged an expensive orchestra for the music of the preceding evening, when music was not really needed at all. The ices and other things furnished the refreshment room made another large item in the bills, although there had been some profit from this department.
“I will take one of your one hundred dollar bills, and with it pay the expenses,” said Mrs. Blair, “and I would advise you to take care of the three hundred dollars, for after all it is not a large sum to be used toward the support of a sick woman and five children.”
“Of course we’ll take care of it, at least Brenda will,” cried Nora, as Brenda folded the money away carefully in her purse, and placed the purse in a small leather bag. Then they went home with Brenda, and they saw her lock the bag into her top bureau drawer.
After this they sat for a while as girls will, idly talking about the affairs of the day, while Mrs. Barlow’s French maid bustled about, laying away some new waists and skirts of Brenda’s that had just come home from the dressmaker’s.
“Look,” at last cried Brenda, jumping up from her seat impetuously, “look, Marie, did you ever see so much money,” and opening the drawer and the purse she brandished the three hundred dollar bills before the eyes of the young Frenchwoman.
“Oh, my! Mees,” cried Marie, “three dollars, that is not so very much!”
“Three dollars!” shouted Brenda, “three hundred dollars, what you call twelve hundred francs.”
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Marie, her eyes almost jumping out of her head, “oh, my! I never did see so much money, let me look.” So they let her touch the bills, and they laughed at the comments she made, and especially when she cried, “Louis would marry me if that money was mine.”
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