Brenda, Her School and Her Club

  X

  A SOPHOMORE

  When Edith's brother Philip came in from College to spend Saturday andSunday, Edith's house was apt to be a rendezvous for the other girls.Not that Philip was likely to waste much time with mere girls. Not he!He was a Harvard sophomore, and realized his own importance quite asmuch as the girls did. But still there was always the chance that hewould come into the room just for a minute, and tell them some of thelatest Cambridge news. He would have scorned to call it gossip. If therewas any one thing in the world he hated--so he said--it was girls' talk,this jabbering about nothing. For his part he wouldn't waste his time_that_ way. Yet, when he had an appreciative audience,--and girlsgenerally appreciated what Philip said,--he would often spend as much ashalf an hour talking about the fellows--how beastly it was Jim Dashawaycouldn't row on the crew, and he would grow almost enthusiastic whendescribing the tussle between Ned Brown and Stanley Hooper over therespective merits of Boston and New York in which Hooper, the NewYorker, was terribly beaten.

  "And upon my word," he concluded, "I wasn't sorry, for the New York setis getting just unbearable. I wouldn't so much mind fighting StanleyHooper myself about New York and Boston. I guess I'd show him that NewYork isn't the whole world."

  "I should say not," exclaimed Nora; but Belle, who had some New Yorkcousins, was silent. Brenda, however, noticing Belle's expression, andnot feeling disposed to side completely with Nora, said,

  "You're terribly narrow, Nora, to think that nobody's any good unless hecomes from Boston."

  "I didn't say so," replied Nora.

  "No, but that's what you mean, and I'm surprised, Philip Blair, that aboy should be so awfully one-sided."

  "Well, you'd better talk, Brenda Barlow," broke in Nora again. "Just seethe way you treat Julia. If she'd been born in Boston----"

  "I don't treat her," interrupted Brenda.

  "No, that's just it, you don't treat her decently."

  "Oh, I say," said Philip, from his place in front of the mantelpiece,"how queer girls are; do you always fight like this when you'retogether?"

  "We don't fight like you boys," answered Edith, good-humoredly. "Wedon't knock each other down and run the risk of breaking one another'snoses."

  Philip looked over his shoulder in the glass. There was nothing thematter with his own shapely nose, and I doubt that he would have run anysuch risk as Edith suggested. Perhaps this was the reason why Philip wasnot a fighter. There was one good thing about the little disputes inwhich Brenda and Belle indulged. They very seldom lasted long. In thepresent instance the girls were ashamed of having shown temper beforePhilip. The latter, however, did not dwell on their weakness.

  "Oh, say, did you hear about the time Will Hardon had with the Dicky,last week?" he asked.

  Nora nodded. She, too, had a brother in College.

  "What was it?" asked Edith. "You haven't told _me_, Philip."

  "How funny you are, Edith," said Belle. "You never hear anything. Hasn'tanyone told you how the other fellows made him run blindfolded in hisshirt sleeves down Beacon Street?"

  "No, really?"

  "Of course, really!"

  "And then they led him up the steps into Mrs. Oxford's when she wasgiving an afternoon tea, and when they took the bandage off his eyesthere he was in his shirt sleeves, without his hat, and his hair alltumbled, and everybody looking at him."

  "Oh," said one girl, and "Ah," said another; and "How silly!" they allcried together.

  "If girls amused themselves like that what fun you'd make of us!" saidthe practical Nora.

  "I shouldn't think there'd be much fun in making anybody uncomfortable."

  "Oh, it gives a fellow a chance to show what kind of stuff he's madeof," explained Philip, "whether he has good manners, and whether he'sclever--and all that."

  "There must be better ways of showing bravery," said the practicalEdith. "I don't believe you know a bit more about Will Hardon's braverythan you did before."

  "We knew something about his manners."

  "What?"

  "Why, when he saw where he was, he didn't run away, or flunk out. Heonly looked a little sheepish, the other fellows said, but he just bowedto the ladies, and saying politely that he was sorry to have disturbedthem, he walked off as nice as you please."

  "Wasn't he mad at the two fellows for taking him there?"

  "Of course not; that's a part of the thing. Why, there are fellows inCambridge who would go through fire and water, or stand on their headsin front of a pulpit for the sake of getting into the Dicky. I tell youwe make some of them suffer."

  Philip said "we" with a rather important air, although he had belongedto the illustrious organization a very short time.

  "Well, I think you're perfectly horrid," cried Brenda, "I mean theDicky. I've heard about the way you make people suffer, branding themwith hot cigars, and making them run barefoot winter nights, and doingall sorts of useless things."

  "If you went to College you'd see more use in them."

  "I'm glad girls don't go to College."

  "Oh, some do!"

  "Not girls we know."

  "I'm sure I can't tell," said Philip rather crossly, "there are a lot ofgirls studying in Cambridge now at the Annex, and the fellows don't likeit at all."

  "Well, I declare," exclaimed Nora, "I'd like to know what difference itmakes to them."

  "Oh, they hate to see these girls going about with books, and trying toget into Harvard."

  "Yes, trying to break down the walls," said Nora, sarcastically.

  "Oh, see here, it would just spoil everything to have women in theclasses with us."

  "Are you afraid they'd get ahead of you?" asked Edith, gently.

  "Now, look here, Edith, I don't want you to talk that way," respondedPhilip with brotherly authority. "There isn't any danger of girlsgetting ahead of us."

  "Why, I heard," said Nora, "that one of the professors----"

  "Oh, yes, I've heard it too," interrupted Philip. "I've heard that someprofessors say that their Annex classes do better work than ours,--butanybody can tell that that's all rot."

  "I believe it's all perfectly true," said Nora.

  "Well, I wish myself that our English instructor hadn't such a fondnessfor reading themes to us that the girls have written. He makes out thatthey are better than ours, but I can't say that I see it myself."

  "Who gets the best marks?"

  "I'm sure I can't say. He gives us such beastly marks that I dare say hemakes it up with the girls. But I wouldn't let a sister of mine go toCollege," he concluded inconsequently.

  "It's a good thing Edith doesn't wish to go," said Nora; addingmischievously, "but Brenda Barlow's cousin Julia is going."

  Brenda blushed, for Julia's intention of going to College was still asore point with her.

  "Does Julia wear glasses, or look green? I beg your pardon, Brenda----"

  "No, she doesn't," said Nora shortly. "She's about the nicest girl Iknow."

  "Oh, she is lovely," added Edith.

  "A matter of opinion," murmured Belle under her breath.

  "You don't mean to say you haven't seen her," cried Brenda in surprise.

  "No, I haven't happened to," answered Philip.

  "She's invited to my cooking party next week," said Nora. "You know thatyou've accepted too, so you'll see her."

  "Oh, yes, by the way," said Philip, "what evening is it?"

  "Friday, of course," replied Nora, "so we can sit up late withoutthinking about school the next day."

  "Well, you'll see me sure," said Philip. "But see here, it's fiveo'clock now and I have an engagement down town."

  Philip hurried off, bowing in a very grown-up way to the group of girls.For whatever criticisms any one might make about Philip's indolence anddisinclination to study, no one could deny that he had very goodmanners. Though only about four years their senior, he seemed much olderthan Brenda and her friends. Years before they had all been playmatestogether, but his two years in College had taken him away
from them, andit was not often that he condescended to spend as long a time in theirpresence as had been the case this afternoon.

  "Do you think that Philip looks very well, Edith," asked Belle when hehad left the room.

  "Why, of course, don't you?" replied Philip's sister.

  "It seemed to me he was just a little pale."

  "He is always pale," said Edith.

  "Do you suppose he sits up too late?" asked Brenda.

  "I'll warrant he doesn't study too much," said Belle.

  "How can you?" cried Nora. "How can you criticise Edith's brother? Don'tlet her do it, Edith."

  "It doesn't trouble me," answered the placid Edith. "I know all aboutPhilip, and he's good enough for me."

  "That's right," said Nora. "Always stand up for your brother. But I dothink he might have better friends. He really isn't very particular."

  "Why, what do you mean?"

  "Oh, I don't know exactly, but I heard my brother talking the other day.He says there are two or three fellows just sponging off of Philip allthe time, and Philip is too good-natured to say anything."

  "I wonder how he'll like Julia," said Edith.

  "Oh, he won't like that kind of a girl," hastily interposed Belle. "Boysnever like a girl who studies; especially one who is going to College."

  "Well, Julia is just the nicest girl _I_ know," said Nora, repeating thewords she had used to Philip.

  "And Philip is one of the nicest young men I know," said Brenda,politely, turning to Edith. "But don't tell him I said so," she addedwith a blush.

  "Oh, no, of course not," laughed Edith, as the girls separated for theafternoon.