*CHAPTER IV*
*NATURAL HISTORY*
Mrs. Burton's New York apartment was not large.
In her present state of mind Bettina Graham was restless, so, as hermother had consented that she spend the week with her Camp Fireguardian, she devoted many hours each day to being out of doors and tosight seeing.
She was never alone; one of her excuses was that Elce must be amused andnot allowed to be troublesome. The little English girl, the daughter ofa Lancashire miner, who had been deserted by her father and in a waythrust upon the Camp Fire girls during a brief visit to Ireland, alwaysaccompanied her.
Elce was not a trying companion when one wished to pursue one's owntrain of thought. She talked but little and seemed shy and notparticularly clever save for her extraordinary musical gift. Not thatshe had any gift for the technique of music. One of Bettina's puzzlesand disappointments was that so far the younger girl had failed to showany proper interest in the study of music. Her talent seemedspontaneous and natural as a bird's ability to sing and she seemed aslittle capable of acquiring musical knowledge.
Undoubtedly a problem, Bettina believed that Elce was chiefly herproblem. During the summer in "Merrie England," when the little girlhad been a maid of all work in their household, she first had becomeinterested in her and in return Elce, whom they then knew by theLancashire title of "Chitty," had given her a devotion, which sherevealed toward no one else. Indeed, the younger girl appearedcuriously free from the ordinary affections and to be strangely shy, orself-contained.
It was at Bettina's request that her father had undertaken to pay forthe little girl's education. There had been no thought of making her amember of their household, save perhaps during certain holidays.
With Marguerite Arnot the circumstances were different. Marguerite wasolder and in spite of her difficult background of poverty and hardwork[*] was possessed of unusual beauty and charm. Then at onceMarguerite had responded to her mother's influence. Indeed, Bettina,although recognizing the unreasonableness of her own attitude,frequently had to stifle pangs of something approaching jealousy at thesympathetic relation between them.
[*] See "Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France."
Marguerite was no longer shy save in a graceful and attractive fashion.If she played but an inconspicuous part in the social life nowsurrounding her, she had the French tact and resourcefulness. It seemedto Bettina that, as her own difference of opinion with her mother hadgrown and developed, Marguerite was beginning to fill her place. Injustice she could not criticize Marguerite for circumstances with whichshe had nothing to do, although not enjoying the idea that her motherwas turning to some one else for the sympathy and devotion which shouldhave been her own to give and to receive.
This afternoon, wandering about the Natural History Museum with Elce,Bettina was not particularly intent upon the exhibitions, but insteadwas planning a letter which she contemplated writing home later in theevening, when Mrs. Burton had gone to the theater and she could bealone.
She meant to surrender her own desire; nothing else appeared possible,but she also wished her family to appreciate that she believed she wasbeing treated unjustly and that she had the right to her own choice oflife.
Reaching a secluded corner and discovering an unoccupied bench, Bettinasat down, suggesting that Elce wander about alone and come back for herlater. They were on the floor devoted to the reproduction of wild birdsin their native haunts. Since the collection was a rarely beautifulone, Bettina believed it would be of so great fascination as to keep theyounger girl occupied for some time. Personally she was alreadyfatigued. Moreover, she wished for an opportunity to think without thepossibility of being interrupted at any moment.
After her original talk with her Camp Fire guardian she had not referredto the subject of their interview. There was little reason why sheshould. Definitely she understood that Mrs. Burton's sympathy was withher mother and that she had but scant patience with her rebellionagainst what might appear to most girls as a singularly fortunate fate.
Bettina was not only disappointed, but puzzled and aggrieved. From anyone save her Camp Fire guardian she would have expected such a point ofview. She herself was able to accept the fact that it was but naturalother people should consider an opportunity to enter Washington society,chaperoned by her mother and with her father's prominent officialposition, to be the summit of any natural girl's desire. Yet from herCamp Fire guardian Bettina had hoped for another viewpoint. Had she notheard her oftentimes insist that every living human being must followhis or her own road, and that whether for good or ill she could havefollowed no career save the one she had chosen.
The difference in their positions Bettina Graham had far too muchintelligence not to recognize. She was not choosing the career of anartist and had revealed no exceptional gifts. She merely wanted to giveher life in service to persons less fortunate than herself, rather thanwaste it, as she felt, in a society existence for which she had neitherliking nor taste. There was nothing romantic nor inspiring in herdesire. Her mother and father were both convinced that such work shouldbe left to older women, or to girls who possessed neither her positionnor opportunities.
So since the prop upon which unconsciously she had been leaning, Mrs.Burton's approval and help, had failed her, Bettina decided to make nofurther protest for the present. Later she must convince her familythat her desire was not a whim, a moment's caprice, the influence of astronger personality, which would vanish when other interests becamemore absorbing.
Suddenly Bettina got up, realizing that the room in which she was seatedwas growing surprisingly dark and that a guard was moving about,announcing that the hour for closing had arrived.
Before leaving Bettina had first to find her companion.
At the farther end of the room she observed that a small crowd hadformed, who seemed loath to depart.
Drawing near, to her amazement she heard a number of beautiful, birdlikenotes with which she was familiar.
Undisturbed by her audience, Elce was standing by a showcase filled withbirds from the northern part of England, birds which the little girl hadknown almost from babyhood, as she had spent the greater part of hertime in the woods. To-day amid strange and different surroundings, withapparent unconsciousness, she was repeating such bird notes as she couldrecall.
The crowd about her was amused and admiring.
Bettina laid her hand on the younger girl's shoulder.
"Elce, we must go at once, it is growing late. And you must rememberyou are not in the woods, or you will have so large an audiencesurrounding us some day that we shall not be able to make our escape.You are an odd child! I thought you were exceptionally shy and afraidof people, and now you do a surprising thing like this and appear not inthe least abashed."
In farewell Elce was nodding to several persons who had been standingnear. She appeared entirely unaware that her behavior had been unusual.
Out in the street Bettina discovered that the darkness had not been duesolely to the lateness of the hour, but that a thunderstorm wasapproaching.
A few moments she stood hesitating. The History Museum was on the westside of the city and uptown and she wished to reach the east side anddown town as promptly as possible. By what method she could mostquickly accomplish this result she was not certain. Holding tight toher companion's hand Bettina made a hurried rush toward the Broadwaysubway.
She had no umbrella and large drops of rain were descending. Thedarkness was surprising and interesting. Men and women stopped in theironward rush to look upward toward the sky, where the clouds weremagnificent.
Then the rain became a downpour. Still Bettina and Elce rushed on,scarcely seeing where they were going.
A moment and Bettina found her horizon limited by an umbrella, whichmade a circular barrier directly in her path.
"Is it possible that people can meet by accident in New York City inthis way? I do not see how you
can remember us," she was saying thefollowing moment.
"Our meeting is not so surprising as you think; people who live in NewYork never see their acquaintances unexpectedly, while strangers alwaysdo. I am taking it for granted that you are not a New Yorker. You willhave my umbrella, won't you?"
Bettina shook her head.
"No, I cannot do that, but if you will see us to the subway and saveElce from drowning in this rain, I shall be under a second obligation toyou. We did find Mrs. Burton the other evening in the fashion yousuggested."
Bettina was smiling, amused and entertained by her unexpected encounter.The rain was dripping from her hat, her hair blowing, her cloth skirtwhipped about her ankles.
"We are trying to reach Gramercy Square," she added, when they had setout, their companion vainly attempting to hold his umbrella above thetwo girls.
"Then I suggest you take the bus so as not to have to cross to theshuttle at Times Square at this rush hour. You won't think I intendbeing impertinent, because already I have discovered two things aboutyou. You are staying with Mrs. Richard Burton and apparently she livesin Gramercy Park. You see, you have an unfair advantage of me in onerespect, as you know that my name is Burton and I have no idea ofyours."
Making no rejoinder, Bettina's manner became perceptibly colder. Shewas not an unconventional person and was beginning to fear that she haddisplayed too great friendliness in permitting herself to recognize anacquaintance whom she had met in so informal a fashion.
Yet until this moment he had seemed unusually courteous.
At her change of manner he turned and began talking to Elce, so thatBettina was able to look at him more attentively.
She had only an indistinct impression of him as he stood in his owndoorway several evenings before, giving her the aid of his friendlyadvice. Curious that she should be appealing to his friendliness sosoon again! Now she saw that the young man had brown hair and eyes, wasa good deal taller than she, and that he had an expression of delightfulgaiety. Unconsciously Bettina felt a slight sensation of envy. Sheknew the copy of Donatello's faun and there was something in hercompanion which suggested the famous statue. His brown hair, wet by therain, curled in heavy clusters, his ears were slightly pointed, his faceglowed with health and humor.
"I am sorry if I have offended you," he added. "For my own part, Inever have understood why human beings require so much formality inlearning to know one another. I confess I have been struggling todiscover an acquaintance who knows your Mr. and Mrs. Burton ever sinceour accidental meeting the other evening. No one seems able to help me.The only human being I know named Burton outside my own family is aCaptain Burton I saw in France. He was engaged in Red Cross work overthere. But I met him on the street after our return and I remember hetold me he was living in Washington."
Bettina bit her lips to hide their smiling, not altogether displeased bythis information.
"We have reached Broadway, haven't we? I am so much obliged to you, ashere comes our bus. It would be odd, wouldn't it, if by chance weshould both know the same Captain Burton. My Mr. Richard Burton was inFrance in the service of the Red Cross and did live in Washington for atime after his return to this country. He does not use his title atpresent, since he has given up his Red Cross work, although many personscontinue to call him Captain Burton. Of course there may have been anynumber of Captain Burtons in the army. I have no idea that we canpossess any acquaintance in common. Good-by and thank you."