VI
MISUNDERSTANDINGS
Little by little Julia accustomed herself to the routine of school. Atfirst it was much harder for her than any one suspected. Even after shehad become fairly well acquainted with the girls in her classes, shedreaded each recitation. It was no easy task to put her knowledge intothe definite form needed in answering questions. She had much moregeneral information than many of her classmates, but nearly all werebetter skilled in reciting lessons. Although in history, Latin andliterature she was two classes ahead of Brenda and the three otherinseparables, she was with all but Edith in mathematics, and, rather toBrenda's delight, a class below them in French. Julia's father had beenmuch less interested in modern than in ancient languages, and Julia hadhad limited opportunities for learning French. Belle, on the contrary,was a really fine French scholar. She was fonder, indeed, of introducingFrench words and phrases into her conversation than should have been thecase with a girl who really understood the French language. Edithexcelled in mathematics, Nora, strange to say, Nora, who was so carelessabout most of her lessons, had a real gift for English composition.Brenda did well in all her studies "by fits and starts," as the girlssaid. She had fine powers, her teachers often told her, which she seldomexerted to the utmost. But Brenda and her friends formed only a smallpart of the school, and Julia soon found that in every class she had oneor two competitors whose proficiency spurred her on.
To be perfectly frank, however, it must be said that the majority ofMiss Crawdon's girls were not hard workers. Miss Crawdon, herself, oftenfelt greatly discouraged that girls with the opportunities of most ofher pupils, should appreciate these opportunities so little. With mostof them attending school was a mere duty, a way in which several monthsof each year must be spent until they should "come out." Miss Crawdontried in vain to arouse in most of them something more like a passinginterest in their work. Occasionally she found a spark of earnestness inone of her pupils which she was able to fan into ambition. But moreoften she had to give up the attempt to induce a bright girl to become agenuine student. There were too many distractions out of school, andparents were apt to be slow in seconding her efforts. Miss Crawdon waspleased, therefore, to find in Julia a girl who loved study and who wasinclined to persevere.
One day Brenda came home from school in a state of considerableexcitement.
"What do you think, mamma, Julia is going to study Greek! Did you everhear of such a thing?"
"Why shouldn't Julia study Greek?" said her mother. "Why are you soexcited about it?"
"Oh, it's so foolish. No girl at Miss Crawdon's ever studied Greekbefore. Julia says she's going to college, _is she_? Oh, dear, I thinkit's horrid."
"Why, Brenda, really----"
"Well, it makes me so conspicuous."
"How can that be?"
"Why every one will point me out and say, 'Oh it's her cousin whostudies Greek.' It sounds so strong-minded to talk of going to college.The next thing she'll want to be a teacher."
"It seems to me you are very unreasonable, Brenda. You ought to be gladthat your cousin is so ambitious. I only wish that you were half as fondof study."
"There, that's it. I knew there'd be comparisons. Oh, dear! It never wasso before Julia came."
"Daughter," said Mr. Barlow from behind his paper. Brenda trembled, forher father's "Daughter" was generally the introduction to a lecture."Daughter, I fear that you are jealous."
Brenda shook her head. "Oh, papa!"
"Yes, Brenda, I have noticed in several ways that you are less kind toJulia than you should be. How does it happen that you and she neverstart off to school together?"
"Brenda is never ready when Julia is," said Mrs. Barlow.
"Ah, Brenda, your habit of tardiness is a very bad one."
"I'm hardly ever late at school. Belle and I get there a full minutebefore the bell rings."
"That may be, but it would be better if you and Julia started together."
"She does not have to go alone. Nora is generally with her."
"Ah, Brenda, the point I am trying to make is this; you do not spendnearly as much time with your cousin as I had hoped you would, and youare too ready to find fault with what she does!"
"You always blame me, and you never find any fault with Julia. Whydidn't she tell me that she was going to study Greek? The girls allasked me to-day if I knew about it, and I had to say that I hadn't hearda word."
"You and Belle have been very much occupied with your own affairs thisweek. Julia consulted us about her plans and----"
"Well, _is_ she going to college?" interrupted Brenda.
"I cannot say positively," smiled Mrs. Barlow. "It rests with Juliaherself."
"I never saw anything like it," pouted Brenda. "Julia isn't two yearsolder than I, and you let her do whatever she wants to. Oh, dear!" AndBrenda pushed aside the portiere and left the room.
"That is just what I feared for Brenda," said Mr. Barlow. "Julia'scoming makes her even a little more suspicious than she was before. Sheconstantly has the idea that something of importance has been concealedfrom her which she ought to know."
"Yes," replied Mrs. Barlow, "I am afraid that Brenda is hopelesslyspoiled. We did not realize the danger when she was little. The othertwo girls were so different."
"It would not surprise me," responded Mr. Barlow, "if after all somechange should come to Brenda's point of view from having to consider hercousin more or less."
"If only she _would_ consider her," sighed Mrs. Barlow.
If Julia felt at all slighted by Brenda, she did not say so. Indeed shewas too well occupied with her lessons and her music to be disturbed bytrivial things. What her object was in studying Greek she did notdisclose fully to any one, but she studied diligently the difficultdeclensions and conjugations. The serious looking man with eyeglasseswho came to the school three times a week, was an object of muchinterest to most of the girls.
"Doesn't he look learned? Oh, Julia, I should think that you would befrightened to death," said Edith. But Julia smiled.
"I wish myself that Greek were just a little easier. I've got to theverbs and it seems to me I never shall know them."
"I don't wonder," responded Edith. "I don't see how you ever learnit,--all those queer letters and marks and things. Well, I should feeljust as though I were standing on my head if I tried to study Greek."
Edith had no vanity about herself, at least in the matter of lessons.Her special talent was for drawing and mathematics but although she wasconscientious about her school work, she rarely distinguished herself inher recitations. Like Nora, she had begun to have a great admiration forJulia. The latter shook her head when Edith spoke of the difficulty shehad in learning Greek.
"It's like everything else," she said, "you can learn it if you make upyour mind to try hard enough."
"I wish that had been the way with my German, for I really did try. Papais disappointed, because he wanted me to speak by the time we go toEurope again."
"Then why don't you persevere? It would please him and it would do yougood. If I were you I would take it up now."
"Well, perhaps I will after Christmas. Miss Crawdon won't let us makeany changes until then."
As Edith watched Julia's diligence and perseverance she really becameashamed of her own rather indolent way of treating her lessons.
When Nora or Brenda came for her to go to walk early on some brightOctober afternoon she was very apt to say, "Oh, I cannot go now, I mustfinish studying."
"Well, Edith, I never knew anything so funny," Brenda exclaimed one daywhen she and Belle had vainly tried to persuade Edith to walk with themover the mill-dam. "You never used to make such excuses and I considerit a perfect waste of time myself to spend such a lovely afternoonstudying. I should think your mother'd want you to have some exercise."
"Oh, I shall have plenty this afternoon. I am going to the gymnasium foran hour with Julia, and that will answer for to-day. We took a walkbefore school this morning."
"You and Nora are to
o provoking, Edith," exclaimed Brenda ratherpettishly. "Ever since Julia came you seem to prefer spending your timewith her. You never used to be such a book-worm."
"Well, I'm trying to make up for lost time. I wish that I couldaccomplish as much as Julia."
"Oh--Julia, Julia, I'm sick and tired of the name," exclaimed Belle."Why in the world does she study so much, Brenda?"
"I'm sure I don't know."
"You ought to--you're her cousin. I believe myself that she's going tobe a teacher."
"Belle, it is not nice in you to say that," interposed Edith.
"Why isn't it nice to be a teacher. I thought that you liked them morethan anything else. I am sure that Julia does."
"I dare say she does, but it doesn't follow that she's going to be ateacher herself."
"Oh, anybody can tell that she's a poor relation--isn't she, Brenda?Just see how plainly she dresses, and working so to get into college. Ithink that your mother and father are very good to give her a home."
Now all this was very presumptuous on Belle's part, but she spoke sopleasantly and smiled so sweetly at Brenda as she talked that thelatter, though a little irritated, never thought of taking offence ather. But Belle's words had sunk deeper even than she had intended.Brenda had a certain kind of pride which was easily touched. She feltthat in some way it was a source of discredit to her to have a cousinwho might be a teacher. For in what other way could she interpretJulia's intention of studying Greek.
Julia, unconscious of Brenda's feeling, went on quietly without heedingthe disagreeable little remarks that sometimes were made in her hearingby Brenda. Belle was as polite and agreeable toward Julia as to otherswhom she liked better. For it was a kind of unspoken policy of Belle'sto be apparently friendly with all girls of whom she was likely to seemuch. If accused of this failing she would not have admitted that shewas two-faced. She merely liked to be popular, and if she sometimes madeill-natured remarks about a third person, she trusted to the discretionof those to whom she talked. She did not realize that in time she mightcome to be regarded as thoroughly insincere. She had not measured therelative advantages of "To Be" and "To Seem."