XVI

  THE ARTISTS' FESTIVAL

  It was unfortunate that the Artists' Festival should have fallen on theevening of the day succeeding the formal declaration of war, or, as someof the younger people put it, that war should have been declared on theeve of the Festival; for, they urged, the arrangements for the Festivalhad been made before war had been even thought of, and so, if thePresident and Congress had only waited a day--

  But public affairs take their course, and Boston is a very small cornerof this large country, and though some persons may have absentedthemselves from a sense of duty to their country, Brenda agreed withRalph that these never would be missed, so crowded did the hall proveafter the French play had ended and the seats had been removed.

  The patronesses, seated on a dais on one side of the hall, were gorgeousin robes of cloth of gold, with the elaborate head-dresses of the time.

  The procession as it passed along was well worth seeing,--the trumpetersat the head, the craftsmen and village folk, the brown-robed monkssinging a solemn chant, crusaders in scarlet coats, knights in armor,ladies in sweeping trains, and everywhere the high-horned cap with itsgraceful and inconvenient veil.

  On the stage at the end of the hall a French play was given, perfectlyrendered, complete in every detail of dress and scenery as well as ofacting. But it was a tragedy, acted so perfectly that Brenda, perhaps,was not the only one who found it too gloomy for the occasion. Thetournament that followed, in which two hobby-horse knights tiltedagainst each other, was much more to her taste.

  "Why, Brenda Barlow! I was wondering if we should see you."

  Brenda looked up in surprise. The voice was surely Belle's, andimmediately she recognized her friend. Belle did not wait for questionsafter the first greetings.

  "Oh, a party of us came on from Washington last night. The rest aregoing back on Thursday, but I shall stay in New York for a month.Annabel didn't come, nor Arthur either. You must have been awfullydisappointed that he wouldn't take any interest. I've always thought hewas a little uncertain. How do you like my costume? We ordered them atthe last minute from a costumer. I think he did very well, consideringthe time. Tell me, is mine frightfully unbecoming? I've been trying tomake Mr. De Lancey tell me, but he simply says it's indescribablyfetching. I can't be sure whether or not he's in earnest. Oh, let mepresent him to you; I forgot that you did not know each other."

  A moment later, separated from her own party, she was walking with Belleand Mr. De Lancey into the adjacent supper-room, which had beenarranged in semblance of a rose-garden. They ate sandwiches and currantbuns served to them in baskets, and drank lemonade from pewter mugs. Therooms had been rather cool.

  "It's the medieval chill," replied Brenda, when Belle asked her why shewas so quiet.

  "I believe it's worse in this rose-garden than in the large hall. I'mafraid that these paper roses will become frostbitten."

  Soon Tom Hearst and Julia, in their search for Brenda, came upon her inthe garden.

  "Well, here you are! We've been looking everywhere. The rest of thegroup has gone upstairs to be photographed. There's a man with aflashlight in one of the studios. Aren't you coming?"

  The posing of the group took some time, and then there were singlepictures, and Agnes and Ralph were taken together.

  An idea came to Brenda. "Why shouldn't we form a group by ourselves?"Brenda had turned to Tom Hearst with her question.

  "I should say so," he responded enthusiastically. "I mean certainly. Howshall I stand, or rather mayn't I prostrate myself at your feet as yourhumble page?"

  "No, no, how absurd you are!" for Tom was already kneeling in anattitude of devotion.

  "It's after twelve," the photographer reminded them, "and there areseveral waiting."

  "In other words," said Tom, "we ought to hurry. So look pleasant, MissBarlow,--that is, as pleasant as you can under the circumstances," andBrenda assumed her stateliest pose, having first seen that her train wasspread out to its broadest extent.

  "Really," exclaimed Ralph, who stood near, "you must send a copy of thepicture to Arthur."

  Brenda did not reply, but when they were again among the gay crowd shewas quieter than she had been before, and to the astonishment of Agnesshe was ready to go home long before the carriage came.

  But, strange to say, Pamela, the conscientious, was much less disturbedthan she should have been by the thought that this was the hour of hercountry's danger. The artistic beauty of the whole scene was such thatfor the time it occupied her mind completely, and she and Julia, withTom and Philip as attendant cavaliers, were quite care free as theywandered among the gay throng. Yet her mind was turned a little towardthe war when Philip began to tell her of his difficulties.

  "In the natural course of events," he said, "I should have been in theCadets. But I had thought I'd wait a year or two. Now the only thing isfor me to enlist, or get an appointment as officer. They say that thePresident will appoint any number of officers. There is only onething--"

  Pamela waited for him to continue, and at last he took up the brokenthread.

  "I haven't said much about it to other people, but my father is far fromwell this spring. I notice this in little things, and he depends so onme that I hesitate about taking a step that will lead to my leaving homejust now."

  "It is often hard to choose between two duties," said Pamela; "but Ibelieve the general rule is to choose the nearest, and in this case thatis evidently your father."

  "Where have you been all the evening, Philip? I have looked everywherefor you." Edith's voice had an unwonted note of irritation.

  "Why, Edith, child, aren't you having a good time?"

  "Oh, I don't know; I've had to listen to such a lot of stuff from Belle,and I haven't seen half the people I promised to meet."

  "There, there, child, I know how you feel; Belle has been talking toomuch, but I will take care of you," and Philip pulled Edith's arm withinhis own. "A big brother is useful sometimes," he added, for he saw thatEdith was a little perturbed. A moment later Nora joined the group,followed by Julia and Tom Hearst, and soon Brenda joined them.

  "Why, here we have almost all the old crowd," exclaimed Tom. "If onlyWill were here--"

  "And Ruth; you mustn't forget her."

  "Indeed, no, and I dare say that he is thinking of us. I fancy that atthis present moment he is just wild to be on this side of the world.With his exalted ideas of patriotism, it must be torture to him that heisn't on hand when there's fighting to be done."

  "It seems to me that your sword hasn't been brandished very fiercely, atleast, since the President's proclamation."

  "Ah! just wait. Within a month I may be waving a flag in Cuba. Thissound of revelry by night may be the last that I shall hear for a longtime. My uniform may not be as becoming to me as this costume," and Tomthrew back his head and strutted a few steps, as if to display to thebest advantage the artistic costume that Mr. Weston had designed forhim,--a most effective one with its crimson doublet, slashed sleeves,and long, silk trunk hose.

  "Oh, don't talk about war," cried Brenda, almost pettishly, while Nora,whose sparkling eyes and bright smile showed that she, at least, hadenjoyed the evening, said gently, "Come, Brenda, there are Agnes andRalph beckoning to us; I suppose they wish to count us all to see thatwe are safe and sound before they start for home."

  A little bantering, a word or two of good-bye to passing friends, andthe merry group started for home, never, although they knew it notthen,--never to be together again as they had been that evening.

  In the next few weeks war news was of chief importance, and Brenda,never a newspaper reader, now turned to the daily papers with greatinterest.

  One afternoon she came into Julia's room at the Mansion with her eyessuspiciously red.

  "You haven't been crying?"

  "Oh, no, not exactly crying, but--"

  At this time a tell-tale tear fell, and Brenda dabbed her eyes fiercelywith a crumpled handkerchief.

  "There, there, tell me a
ll about it," said Julia.

  "Oh, it's nothing. Only I've just been at a meeting at the State House."

  Then, by dint of a little questioning, Julia learned that Brenda hadread the notice of a meeting to be held at the State House in theinterests of the Massachusetts troops that should go to the war, andthat she had decided to attend it.

  "Oh, it was dreadful," she said, not restraining the tears that were nowundeniably falling. "They talked about bandages and ambulances and thehundreds that would be killed, and the dreadful things that happened inthe Civil War, and I couldn't help thinking how terrible it would be forArthur and Tom and all the others we know."

  "Arthur?" queried Julia; "I knew that Tom was going, but with hisregiment from New York--but Arthur, why, he has never been in themilitia?"

  "Oh, no," responded Brenda, "it's all his being in Washington. I wishthat he had never heard of Senator Harmon. It seems that he's to have acommission in the regular army. The President is to make any number ofnew officers, and you have to have influence. Ralph had a letter thismorning,--and I know he'll be killed."

  "Nonsense, child! If there is any fighting, it will be only on sea."

  "Oh, you should have heard them talk at the meeting to-day; and Papasays that every young man should be ready to fight. He only wishes thathe was young enough. Amy writes that Fritz Tomkins is crazy to leavecollege and volunteer, but his uncle won't let him, because his fatheris in China. But lots of men are leaving college to go into the army.Don't you think 'tis very noble in Arthur?"

  The last sentence was a change from the main subject, for Arthur'scollege years were far away; but it showed where Brenda's heart lay, andJulia did not laugh at her.

  "Come," she said, "let us go upstairs; you have never visited the homeeconomics class, and you are just in time for it."

  So hand in hand the two cousins went upstairs, and if Brenda was lesscheerful than usual, only Julia noticed this.

  "The dusty class," as some of the younger girls called it, because "Dustand its dangers" had been the subject of the lessons.

  "How businesslike it is!" exclaimed Brenda, glancing around the plainroom, fitted with its long wooden table, plain walls, at one end ofwhich were many glass bottles and tubes.

  "Test tubes," explained Julia, as Brenda asked a question; "and thesegas jets that rise from the table are very useful in some of theirexperiments."

  "Yes, that is some of Pamela's Ruskin," Julia added, as Brenda stoppedbefore a simply framed card on which in illuminated text was thefollowing:

  "There are three material things, not only useful, but essential to life. No one knows how to live till he has got them.

  "These are Pure Air, Water, and Earth.

  "There are three immaterial things, not only useful, but essential to life. No one knows how to live till he has got them also.

  "These are Admiration, Hope, and Love."

  "It looks very scientific," said Brenda, "with all those bottles andtubes. I should call it a regular laboratory."

  "So it is," responded Julia; "and though the girls are untrained, andrather young to understand thoroughly the scientific value of much thatis taught them, they do enjoy the experiments."

  At this moment the teacher entered the room.

  "Tell me, Miss Soddern," said Julia, after introducing Brenda to theteacher,--"tell me if the girls have had any success with theirbacteria; I know that they are very much interested in their littleboxes."

  "Oh, I'm going to have them report this morning. You must wait untilthey come."

  In a moment the girls filed in, Concetta, Luisa, Gretchen, Haleema, andthe rest whom Brenda knew best, and with them two or three girls fromoutside who were members of the League; for in this, as in otherclasses, it had seemed wise to enlarge the work a little. So the classhad taken in some of those whom the membership in the League hadinterested in things that otherwise they might not have had the interestto study.

  As they stood at their places around the table, Miss Soddern gave aresume of what they had already learned about dust and its dangers. Theytalked with a fluency that surprised Brenda about bacteria and yeastsand spores and moulds, and in most cases showed by examples that theyknew what they were talking about.

  "I am glad that all these bacteria are not harmful," said Brenda, "forotherwise I should stand in fear of instant death when caught in one ofour east winds," and she looked with interest at the plate that showed agreat many little spots irregularly distributed within a circle. Eachspot represented a colony of bacteria, and though the showing was ratheroverwhelming, it was not nearly as bad as another exposure made at acrossing in a certain city where the old-fashioned street-cleaningmethods prevailed. An exposure made just after the carts had beencollecting heaps of dirt showed an almost incredible number, quitebeyond counting.

  So interesting did Miss Soddern make her lesson that Brenda stayed quitethrough the hour.

  "I've gathered one or two new ideas on the subject of trailing skirts,"she whispered to Julia in one of the intervals of the lesson. "I alwaysthought it was just a notion, this talk about their being so unclean,but now I shall always think of them as regular bacteria collectors.Also I've learned one or two things about dusting, and I'm going towatch our maid to-morrow, and if she isn't using a moist cloth, I'llfrighten her by asking her why she insists on distributing death-dealinggerms around the room."

  Half of the class that day had to report the result of their ownobservation of bacteria colonies collected on the gelatine plate, andhalf were to prepare the little glass boxes to take home. Brenda watchedthe process with great interest,--the preparation of the boxes in avacuum, so that there would be no air inside them when they should befirst exposed in the new locality.

  "It's something," said Julia, "to get these girls to acquire habits ofaccuracy."

  "Oh, it reminds me of the class in physics at Miss Crawdon's," repliedBrenda. "I never would take it myself, but some of the girls said thatit was splendid; it taught one to be accurate."

  At that moment Miss Soddern began to address the girls. They had been soabsorbed in their work that they had talked very little during the hour.

  "How many of you have anything to report regarding the boxes that youtook home last week."

  One by one the outside girls gave accounts of their observations, eachone vying with the others to describe the most prolific growth ofbacteria.

  "As the boxes were to be exposed simply in their living-rooms, I amsurprised at the results," said the teacher in an aside to Julia; "I'mafraid that some one must have been stirring up the dust. What does yourfamily think of these experiments?" she continued, turning to abright-eyed American girl.

  "Oh, they're so interested," the girl replied. "You've no idea howthey've watched it; and since the bacteria have begun to develop,"--shesaid this with an important air--"they show it to company. Why, you maylike to know that our visitors consider it more entertaining than thefamily album."

  Miss Soddern herself did not dare to smile at this remark, but Julia andBrenda hastily excused themselves.

  "Audible smiling," said Brenda, "is more excusable out here than itwould be in the school-room," and then both laughed outright.

  "I never did care for family photograph albums," said Julia, "and now Isee how easy it would be to have a scientific substitute."