Brenda, Her School and Her Club

  V

  MISS CRAWDON'S SCHOOL

  A girl's first day at a new school is very trying to her. The scrutinywhich two or three dozen pairs of sharp young eyes give her is hard tobear. This ordeal is often more dreaded by a girl than many of theimportant events of her later years. Now Julia, although she was to goto school in her cousin Brenda's company, looked forward to her firstday with considerable anxiety. In the first place she was naturally shy,and in the second place she had never regularly attended school. For themost part her lessons had been given her by her father. But at timeswhen they had stayed long enough in some place to make this possible,she had had special instruction from private teachers. Her father hadbeen very fond of books and had bought many expressly for Julia'sbenefit. She was, therefore, much better read than most girls of herage. Her education, too, was ahead of that of the average girl ofsixteen. Of this fact Julia herself was unaware. She fancied thatbecause she had gone to school so little, she would be found far behindher cousin Brenda and Brenda's friends. Before going to school she hadhad an informal talk with Miss Crawdon, in which she had revealed moreto the keen mind of the latter than she had suspected. For Miss Crawdonnever wasted words, and she did not tell the young girl that in somestudies she was far ahead of many of her pupils of the same age. Theteacher's questions had been far-reaching, and she felt pleased at theprospect of having among her pupils one evidently so fond of books asJulia.

  The young girl, on the contrary, on the way to school with her cousin,expressed to the latter her fear at the prospect before her.

  "Oh, you needn't worry," said Brenda, more patronizingly than she reallyintended, "Miss Crawdon won't be hard with you, she knows you haven'tbeen at school much, and even if you have to start in one of the lowerclasses, you'll probably be able to push on rather quickly."

  But even this did not reassure Julia. She was thinking less of herstanding in the classes than of the reception she should meet from thegirls. It was by no means comforting to feel the many strange eyes thatfollowed her as she walked up the stairs with Brenda to enter the mainschoolroom. Miss Crawdon was busy in another room, and Brenda who alwayshad a great many things on her mind, rushed off to speak to one of thegirls, leaving Julia alone near the door. There were perhaps a dozengirls standing about in little groups of three or four. They did notmean to be unkind, but when they saw Julia, they not only glancedcuriously toward her, but for the time ceased their conversation. Whenthey began to talk again it was not in the loud tone they had usedbefore, and Julia would have been less than human if she had notreceived the impression that they were talking about her. Every oneknows how uncomfortable it is for a girl to feel that she is in thepresence of people who are making comments upon her. As a matter of factwhat they said to one another was almost harmless.

  "Is she Brenda Barlow's cousin?"

  "What is she in mourning for?"

  "How old is she?"

  "Do you suppose she is coming here to school?"

  This was the kind of question exchanged by the girls, with here andthere a less good-natured comment.

  "I don't call her so very pretty."

  "She doesn't look like Brenda."

  "Wouldn't you say that dress was made in the year one. I never saw suchsleeves."

  Unluckily the girl who made this last remark was standing rather nearerJulia than she had realized. It happened that Julia herself, who usuallycared little for fashion, was sensitive about these very sleeves. Theyhad been made a little smaller than the prevailing mode required by adressmaker whom Julia had employed in a spirit of kindness withoutregard to her skill. She had not remembered when dressing that this wasto be her first day at school. When she did recall this fact she had notthought it worth while to change her gown. She flushed a little when sheoverheard the criticism, and walked farther away from the groups towardMiss Crawdon's desk.

  As she stood there looking more serious than usual, she was more thanpleased to hear Nora's well-known voice exclaiming,

  "Why, Julia, are you here all alone? Where's Brenda? Dear me, is thisreally your first day of school?"

  Julia smiled. "I can't answer all your questions at once, but I _don't_know where Brenda is, and this _is_ to be my first day of school."

  "Is that why you look so mournful? Now we're not such a bad lot. Come,let me introduce you to some of your companions in misery." Then beforeJulia could object, she found herself receiving introductions to most ofthe girls in the room, even to the very one whose criticism had annoyedher. She was a thin girl with light hair and eyes and eyelashes. Herchin was long and her face was somewhat freckled.

  "This is Brenda Barlow's cousin Julia," said Nora, pleasantly.

  "Yes, I thought you were Brenda's cousin," said the light-haired girlturning toward Julia. "Brenda's been dreading your coming to school."

  Julia flushed as any girl might at a remark of this kind, even while sherealized the unkindness of the speech.

  "Nonsense, Frances," said quick-witted Nora, "I'm sure you never heardBrenda say anything so disagreeable."

  But the light-haired girl had turned away. She was in the habit ofmaking thoughtless remarks without caring whom they hit. Nora gaveJulia's hand a gentle squeeze. "Brenda's just as glad as I am thatyou're coming to school," she whispered to Julia. But Julia shook herhead, half sadly. She had already begun to see some of her cousin'speculiarities.

  By this time many girls were rushing in from the dressing-rooms laughingand chattering as if they must say as much as possible before schoolbegan.

  A few curious eyes were turned toward Julia, but most of the girls wereso absorbed in their own affairs that they took no notice of the tallslender stranger in her black dress.

  When Miss Crawdon returned to the room she welcomed Julia verycordially.

  "I have arranged a seat for you here at the side near me," she said. "Ihad to have an extra desk brought in as there was no vacant place. But Idare say that you will not mind being by yourself here."

  The seat to which Miss Crawdon pointed was in a little alcove at oneside of her desk. It was so placed that it commanded a view of all theother desks in the room, yet it was not as conspicuous from the otherdesks as it seemed to poor Julia. When she took her seat she felt as ifevery one was looking at her. Whereas, in fact, only the girls in thevery front rows could see her plainly. Between Miss Crawdon's desk andthe front seat there was a row of settees where those girls who formedMiss Crawdon's special classes, sat during recitation. There were otherclass-rooms in various parts of the house, but the more advanced girlsrecited either to Miss Crawdon or to teachers in the small adjoiningroom.

  Although Julia was less conspicuous than she imagined, it was not longbefore the whole school realized that a new girl had arrived. Most ofthem were too polite to show any surprise, but as each class filedthrough the room on its way to the recitation-room, many curious glanceswere thrown in her direction.

  Miss Crawdon had told Julia that she would require no regular work fromher that day.

  "Perhaps you would like to look over this history," she had added,giving her a book, "and after recess, you may like to join the class. Bylistening to the other classes this morning you will get an idea of thekind of work I expect."

  So Julia divided the two hours before recess between listening to therecitations and glancing over the history. It happened to be a historyof France, and the special chapter was one dealing with the reign ofLouis XIV. Julia paid much less attention to the book than she did tothe girls who were reciting. It was all so new to her, for it was reallytrue that she had never been in a school before. She admired the skillwith which Miss Crawdon asked questions, and she wondered if she wouldever be able to give replies herself, as clear as those of some of thegirls. Yet not all the girls, she observed, knew their lesson, and someof them showed great cleverness in concealing--or trying to conceal thisignorance from Miss Crawdon. The latter was unusually proficient inreading girls, and she generally recognized the evasive answer that wasintended to con
ceal lack of knowledge. The second class of the morningwas one in English history, the period, the beginning of the reign ofMary. Julia had been engaged with her own book, but she looked up tohear Miss Crawdon saying, "So Mary succeeded one of the Princes murderedin the tower, at least I understood you to say Edward V."

  "Yes," answered a voice which Julia recognized as that of Brenda'sfriend Belle, "yes, she succeeded her brother, the murdered prince, whohad been beheaded by Katharine of Arragon."

  Miss Crawdon did not smile, and Belle could not see the look of surpriseon the faces of some of her classmates. But unfortunately she could seeJulia's face and the involuntary smile on the latter's lips. She turnedvery red, and while Miss Crawdon proceeded to set her right, sheregistered a vow of dislike against that "prig of a Julia" who evidentlyknew more history than she did. Julia, too, caught the disagreeable lookthat flashed from Belle's eyes, and she greatly regretted that smile.Belle was one of those girls who seldom study a lesson thoroughly. Shealways had vague general ideas of the topic under consideration, gainedby a rapid survey of the pages assigned for a lesson. When she could doso unobserved, sometimes during recitation she would look between thecovers of her book to refresh her lagging memory. Nora and Edith andBrenda were also in the class with her, and sometimes one or the otherof them would prompt her to save her from disgrace. Nora occasionallyhad pangs of conscience, and announced that she considered looking in abook or prompting, dishonorable. But sometimes she yielded to Belle'ssignals for help over a hard place. Belle did not often signal, for sherelied as a general thing on her own fluency of language to conceal herlack of knowledge. Miss Crawdon, however, had what Belle called anaggravating way of making her repeat her words until her mistakes weredisplayed in all their nakedness to the rest of the class.

  "It's bad enough," she said to a group surrounding her at recess. "It'sbad enough to have Miss Crawdon always down on one, but really I can'tstand it if Julia is to sit where she can watch everything I do when I'mreciting to Miss Crawdon. I shouldn't think that you girls would like iteither," she concluded.

  "Oh, we're not afraid; we generally know our lessons," answered FrancesPounder, the girl whose careless remark had hurt Julia's feelingsearlier in the day.

  "Well, it doesn't matter whether you know your lessons or not, you cansee for yourself that it's very funny for Miss Crawdon to put any girlin so conspicuous a place, right beside her, almost. I hate favoritism."

  "Why, how you talk, Belle. This cousin of Brenda's hasn't been in schoola day yet, and you talk of favoritism."

  "Well, why shouldn't she have been in the history class with us? Shetold me she was going to have French history with the older girls. Justthink of it, she's only a little older than we, and she's going torecite with girls nearly eighteen."

  "She isn't so very pretty, is she?" said another girl, and so aconversation went on which luckily Julia could not hear. She spent therecess walking up and down with Nora, who was rapidly becoming her mostintimate friend.