Brenda's Ward Part 47

"How foolish you are," exclaimed Priscilla. "If there were nothing else, you certainly have helped Yvonne and Esther, and just think what Mrs.

Brownville writes about Herbert, and your mother says you have been a wonderful housekeeper, and that you have taken so much care off her shoulders, and Angelina--"

"Well, Angelina is rather absurd," interposed Martine; "I was just coming to myself that evening after--what shall I call it--the Carlotta incident, when Angelina rushed into the room, and almost threw herself on my neck. She seemed to think that something awful had happened to me because she had undertaken to leave us, and that my salvation depended on her. She said she had had queer feelings all day, and that she just felt drawn back to Red Knoll, which she never, never, would desert again. Really it was just as well that she came back, for although mother was able to get an extra helper, Angelina knew exactly where things were. Of course she was tremendously proud of what she had accomplished in her trip to Portsmouth, for she made the house-breaker admit that he was Miguel Silva, and though she can't recover her money, she has a kind of wicked satisfaction in knowing that he will be punished for his other misdeeds."

"She doesn't seem to be quite as Spanish as she was last winter. At least she doesn't say as much about it."

"No, she gives me the credit for that. She says that I have shown her that it is wrong to pretend anything. However, on that same Portsmouth trip, she went down the harbor to look at the island where Cervera's men were prisoners, and now she likes to speak of the Spaniards in a patronizing tone as people to be spoken of as inferiors rather than kinsmen."

"It's astonishing," mused Priscilla, "how many friends you make!"

"Why should it be astonishing? Why shouldn't I make friends?"

"I only meant it was astonishing in comparison with me. No one ever attaches importance to me. In the past year I have hardly made a new friend--while you--"

"You have made a friend of me for one thing, and Lucian thinks you are exactly right, and my mother considers you a perfect model. Oh, yes, and there's Eunice."

Priscilla, in spite of herself, smiled at Martine's droll tone.

"But think of all the people you have to your credit. Mr. Stacy says he never saw a young girl talk so intelligently about Plymouth, and the children are always asking me when you will come again, and in her secret heart I believe Aunt Tilworth prefers you to me,--and my mother--"

"What nonsense, Priscilla! It's only because people think me so very empty-headed when they first meet me, that they are surprised later to find that there's anything to me, just as I am surprised some times to discover these quiet dignified girls, like Elinor, and Clare, are really very good fun when you come to know them better."

"Then," continued Priscilla, "there are Balfour and Mr. Gamut. If you hadn't been considerate of Balfour's feelings, and invited him to your house, he wouldn't have met Mr. Gamut, and Eunice says he has made him a splendid offer, and he will take it as soon as he's through college."

"Oh, well, things may have happened that way; but you know yourself that I haven't any particular talent for anything, and I never go out of my way to help people."

"You help them just by being bright and pleasant and making them think the best of themselves."

"Perhaps; but as to Balfour, I am glad that he's to be helped by Mr.

Gamut, and not by Mr. Blair, or even papa, as I once hoped. For, as it is, he's much more independent, without feeling that anything has been done for him, because he's a connection of ours, even though the cousinship is rather far away. It was so funny, though, to see Mr. Gamut the evening Carlotta's horse tried to run. He appeared on the scene just as I fainted, and later, when I came to, he was hopping about, anxious to do something, but not knowing what to do. Faint as I was, I almost laughed at him. But that would have been mean, for he had come almost expressly to bring me news that he had just heard about papa's affairs.

He said he knew I had been worrying, and he wanted to be the first to tell me. Naturally, he was surprised to find me lying on my back in the middle of the road. But come, we mustn't waste all the morning here,"

and seizing Priscilla by the arm, Martine fairly dragged her from the hammock.

"I feel so energetic now," she cried, "that we must do something exciting--take a long walk to work off my energy--if we could gather a party, I believe I could climb Agamenticus. What would you say to that, Prissie?"

The diminutive no longer annoyed Priscilla. She had learned to understand Martine.

"It isn't necessary for me to say anything. Your mother will tell you what she thinks about your climbing Agamenticus."

"I suppose it is too far. You always do know better than I. I believe that next year I shall have to be known as Priscilla's, instead of Brenda's ward"--and with her hand in Priscilla's, Martine went into the house.

THE END