Part 7

Now she knew that in Boston she was not likely to see any cases of misery as extreme as those described in that famous book, and yet in the midst of the luxury of her uncle's house she often wished that she could do something to help the poor. But Julia, in spite of her self-reliance in practical matters, was rather shy, and whenever she thought of speaking to her aunt on the subject, she hesitated in fear lest she should be thought presumptuous. Manuel and his wants, when Brenda and Nora came home full of what they had seen at the North End, seemed to her an opportunity. She hoped, indeed she almost expected that she would be invited to go with them on a second visit. Her disappointment in this matter was even greater than that which came from being left out of the "Four Club." There were things she knew that she could have done for Manuel and his mother, and even if Brenda and her friends were able to provide for all his wants, there must be others in the same neighborhood as poor as he. Yet week after week passed away, and no chance seemed to open for her to tell Brenda what she would like to do. At school Julia was left much to herself. The girls near her own age were so absorbed in their own affairs that they seldom had a thought for the lonely stranger. They had so many things to talk about in which Julia had no part,--the dancing class, the bowling club--and a thousand and one harmless bits of gossip harmless for the most part, though sometimes carrying with them a little sting. When Julia sat or walked with one of these chattering groups she felt that she was only tolerated, and she could seldom join intelligently in what was said, and often a dropping of the voice, or an only half-intentional glance of significance made her feel herself in the way. To be sure there were Edith and Nora, of the set a little younger than the girls with whom she recited. They were undeniably her friends, and yet Brenda and Belle had a fashion of dragging them off at recess without giving Julia an invitation to follow, and the latter had too much sense to care to bring herself too often within the reach of Belle's sharp tongue. So though she sat or walked by herself, the older girls who noticed her excused themselves with "Oh, if she cared to go with any one she would walk with Brenda and Nora and the others of the 'Four,'" for in school, as in the club the "Four" had come to have a special meaning. On the other hand Brenda and Belle would usually say to the remonstrating Edith and Nora:

"What is the use of talking, Julia is in the classes with the older girls, and she ought to make friends with them. She really doesn't belong with us, and there is not the least reason why we should have her on our minds all the time." Now there is hardly any classification of persons more definite and rigid than that which separates the girls of one age at school from those who are a year or two older, or a year or two younger. Nor did Julia generally repine at her own situation. She thought it perfectly natural that the other girls should be slow in admitting her to intimacy. If she had any feeling it was regret that her own cousin seemed so indifferent to her.

XIII

GREAT EXPECTATIONS

For a week before Thanksgiving there was great excitement among the schoolgirls on account of the approaching football game. The "Four" were as excited as the others, although not so many of their own particular friends were in the Harvard team. It was to be a game with Princeton, one of the great University matches, and for special reasons there was the deepest interest in the match. Those girls who had brothers in college, or even cousins or friends, held themselves with more dignity than any of the others, and those who had relatives in the team "were too proud for anything," as Brenda said. The game was to be played in Holmes' Field, and tickets were not easy to get, because the seats were far less numerous than now on the great Soldiers' Field. The girls were making up little groups to go to the game with youths of their acquaintance as escorts, under the chaperonage of older people. A few who had received no invitation were especially miserable, and took no trouble to disguise their feelings.

Edith at this time became unusually popular, because it was known that her mother had given her permission to arrange a large party to accompany her to the game, and every girl was hoping for an invitation--every girl, at least who had not been invited elsewhere to go in some other party.

Now Edith was of a generally generous disposition, and not inclined to limit her favors, of whatever nature, to any particular set of girls. For this reason she had to bear many a reproof from Belle, and even occasionally from Brenda, both of whom were inclined to be more exclusive.

So it happened that the general harmony of "The Four" was somewhat disturbed when Nora one day at recess exclaimed,

"Who do you suppose is going with us to the game?" For of course in the minds of the others there could be but one "game," and that the one to which they all wished to go.

"Why, who is it?" cried Brenda, and "Who is it?" echoed Belle.

"I know that you can't guess."

"Oh, don't be silly, Nora, it wouldn't be worth while to guess about something you'll know all about so soon, except that you speak as if it were some one we might not care to have, and if that's the case, I declare it's too bad," said Belle.

"If it's anything like that," broke in Brenda, rather snappishly, "I will just tell Edith what I think."

"_It_--_that_," cried Nora, "didn't I say that it was a person, a girl, if I must be more definite, Ruth Roberts, if I must tell just who it is."

"Oh," cried Belle, and "Ah," echoed Brenda.

"You need not look so surprised," rejoined Nora, "and if you take my advice, you will not say anything to Edith; she ought to have her own way in arranging her own party, and you know when she makes up her mind it is of no use to talk to her about it."

"Well, I don't care," rejoined Brenda, "it's hard enough to have Julia tagging about everywhere, but why in the world we should have Ruth Roberts, when we never see her anywhere except at school, I really cannot understand, and I don't see how you and Nora can like it either."

"Why Ruth Roberts is as pleasant a girl as there is in school, and yet she would have a terribly lonely time, if it were not for Edith and Julia; nobody else ever thinks of speaking to her."

"Well, why should we, she lives out in Roxbury or some other outlandish place, and she doesn't even go to our dancing school or know people that we know. There isn't a bit of sense in knowing people that we'll never see when we're in society," responded Belle, while Brenda echoed, "Yes, that's what I think, too."

Nora smiled pleasantly, and her eyes looked brighter than ever under the rim of her brown felt hat, with its trimmings of lighter brown. Nora's temper was not easily ruffled. Then Belle added a final word.

"Oh, it's clear that this is all Julia's doings; ever since Ruth went into her Latin class they have been awfully intimate. But I don't see," turning rather snappishly towards Brenda, "why the rest of us have got to take up Ruth Roberts just because your Cousin Julia is so devoted to her."

Now this was a little too much, even for Brenda, who generally did not contradict Belle, and she answered with vigor, "Really you are growing perfectly ridiculous, Belle; I haven't anything to do with it, but I must say that I think that Julia has a right to choose her own friends. Ruth Roberts is all right, and anyway I'm thankful to have Julia take a fancy to anybody, it leaves us a great deal freer to do as we like. I should think that you would see that yourself."

"Oh, well," said Nora laughing, "the whole thing is not worth quarreling about. I'm glad to hear you talk so sensibly, Brenda. If you hadn't, I was going to tell Belle that it seems to me that Edith has a right to ask any one she wishes. She is always very good to us all, and just think how many tickets her father has bought for this game!"

"Yes, I know, but still----"

"The least said, the soonest mended," said Nora, though to tell you the truth, the quotation did not sound especially appropriate. "The least said, the soonest mended, and let us all go to the game with a crimson flag in each hand to wave for the winners."

"Crimson," cried Belle, "I am going to carry an orange scarf, and perhaps an orange flag."

"What for? why I never heard of such a thing!" exclaimed Nora.

"Nor I!" cried Brenda, "at a Harvard game!"

"Isn't it a Princeton game, too," asked Belle, "two or three of the boys I used to know in New York are in that team, one of them is a kind of cousin of mine."

"Oh," said Nora, "I didn't know that you thought that people had to be so very devoted to cousins."

Even Belle herself could not help smiling at this, which was very appropriate, following so closely, as it did, her own remarks about Julia.

"You can see yourself that this is different," she answered. "I should call it very impolite if there were no orange flags shown at the game."

"Well, you have the most ridiculous ideas, hasn't she, Brenda?"

Brenda nodded assent, and Nora continued, "I never knew that people had to think that about politeness in college games; why it's a duty to do everything you can to help your own side----"

"I never said that Harvard was my side," interrupted Belle, "didn't I tell you that I have a cousin on the Princeton team."

"You'd better not say anything of that kind to Philip, or to Edith, either, they are both perfectly devoted to Harvard, and they expect their party to give great encouragement to the Harvard team. Why, Belle, I cannot imagine your doing anything else."

"I'm not a child," responded Belle very crossly, walking away from Nora and Brenda, "I do not need to be told what to do."

What Nora or Brenda might have answered, I cannot say, for hardly had Belle disappeared within the house, when Edith herself appeared, with Julia and Ruth.

Ruth was a pretty and amiable girl, about Julia's age, and therefore a little older than "The Four." She had been in the school for two years before the coming of Julia, but in all that time she had had only a speaking acquaintance with the other girls. Many of them would probably have been surprised had any one told them that they were very selfish in leaving their schoolmate so entirely to herself. It was not because they did not like her. They were merely so very much wrapped up in their own affairs, that they hardly noticed that she was often left to herself. Ruth lived in the suburbs, and as Belle had said, outside of school the other girls seldom saw her. At recess each little group had so many personal things to talk about that an outsider would have been decidedly in the way, and would, perhaps, have been a little uncomfortable in joining them. No one gets a great deal of enjoyment from reading a single chapter in the middle of a book, and so it is often hard to be a mere listener when the tongues of half a dozen girls are vigorously discussing people and events of which the listener has not the slightest knowledge.

Ruth herself was very independent, and as she was more interested in her studies than many of the girls at Miss Crawdon's she had acquired the habit of studying during recess. Since after school she spent more time than most girls of her age in outdoor sports, it did her no great harm to pass the half-hour of recess in this way. Ruth, as well as Julia, had undertaken to prepare for college, and it had been a great delight to her to have the latter placed with her in one or two special classes. Julia's liking for her had made Edith take a little more interest in her than would otherwise have been the case, but the ball game was the first important event in which she was included with the others of Julia's set. She naturally was pleased at the prospect of going with the others, for like Julia, she had never seen a great football game.

No one who saw the hearty way in which Nora and Brenda greeted Ruth, as she came up with Edith and Julia, could for a moment have imagined that she had been under discussion. The mercurial Brenda for the moment was so annoyed by Belle's proposed championship of Princeton, that she was unexpectedly cordial to Ruth, and almost to her own surprise found herself urging Ruth to come to town early on the Saturday of the game, to take luncheon with her and Julia.

The latter expressed her thanks in a glance towards her cousin, as Ruth accepted very gracefully, and Nora exclaimed, "What fun we are going to have; you know we are all invited to dine at Edith's that evening. Oh dear! I can hardly wait for Saturday."

"I know it," replied Brenda, "it's less than a week, too, but it seems an awfully long time."

Then they gossiped a moment in a very harmless fashion about the prospects of Harvard, and Edith quoted one or two things that Philip had said, and Nora told them that her father was perfectly sure that the crimson would win, and as they trooped into the dressing-room when the bell rang, Belle was surprised to see Brenda leaning on Ruth's arm.

XIV

THE FOOTBALL GAME

At last the wished-for Saturday arrived. It was one of those clear, bracing days that always put every one in good-humor. Though cool, it was not too cool for the comfort of the girls and older women who were to sit for two or three hours in the open air. Every car running to Cambridge carried a double load, with men and boys crowding the platform in dangerous fashion. Carriages of every description were rushing over the long bridge between Boston and the University City and not only were red or orange flags to be seen waving on every side--small flags that could be easily folded up, but occasionally some group of youths would break out into the college cry.

Edith and her guests drove out to Cambridge in carriages, although they all thought that the cars would have been much more amusing. Edith, however, had had to yield to her mother's wishes, for Mrs. Blair had a strong objection to street cars, and Edith was forbidden to ride in any except those of the blue line in Marlborough street. But if less entertaining, the carriage ride was probably more comfortable than a journey by car would have been on that day of excitement.

Edith and Julia and Ruth and Nora rode in one carriage, while Brenda, Belle, Frances Pounder and Mrs. Blair were in the other. As Frances was a distant cousin of Edith's, her mother usually included her in her invitations, although in general disposition the two girls were very unlike. Belle and Frances were more congenial, and had the same habit of talking superciliously about other people. Brenda and Frances were sometimes on very good terms, and sometimes they hardly spoke to each other for weeks. For Frances had an irritating habit of "stepping on people's feelings" as Nora said, whether with intent or from sheer carelessness, no one felt exactly sure. She was the least companionable of all the girls of their acquaintance, but on account of her relationship to Edith she often had to be with them when "The Four" or rather three of the four would have preferred some other girl.

When the carriages with Edith and her party reached Cambridge they drew up before Memorial Hall as Mrs. Blair had arranged with Philip.

"We thought," she said, "that it would be both easier and pleasanter to leave the carriages here, and walk to the field." And the girls agreed with her. They felt more "grown up" walking along with their escorts, than if seated in the carriage under the eye of Mrs. Blair. Philip, of course, was on the spot, to meet them, and one of his friends was with him.

"I couldn't get any more fellows," he said in an aside to his mother, "to promise to sit with us, they'd rather be off by themselves with the rest of the men. It really is more fun, you know."

"Hush," whispered his mother, fearing lest some of her friends might hear this rather ungallant speech.

"O, of course I don't mind it much," he continued in answer to his mother's look of reproach, "I'm willing to please Edith this once, but I wouldn't want to have to look after a lot of girls very often."

Then he turned around to let himself be presented to

Ruth, whom he had not met before, and Mrs. Blair introduced his friend Will Hardon to all the others,--except of course Edith who knew him.

Belle looked a little disturbed when she saw that there were to be but two students to escort them, and she forgot for the time being, that girls of less than sixteen can hardly expect to be considered young ladies by college undergraduates, who at the sophomore stage of existence are more inclined to the society of women a few years their senior. Belle knew, however, that she had the manners of an older person, and she kept herself fairly well informed on college matters--that is on their lighter aspect, and could talk of the sports, and of the "Dicky," with greater ease than many girls of eighteen or twenty. Therefore as she walked along beside Will Hardon, her tongue rushed on at a great rate, bewildering the youth so that he had hardly a word to reply. Brenda, walking on Will's other side listened in admiration to Belle's fluency. Try her best Brenda never could have imitated it herself, but it was one secret of Belle's influence over her, this ability to talk and act like a real young lady instead of a schoolgirl. Philip attached himself to Ruth and Julia, Edith and Nora walked together, and Mrs. Blair and Frances Pounder brought up the rear, "Just where I can keep my eye on you," Mrs. Blair had said laughingly to them as they started.

Julia was the only one of the group who had never been on the field--or even in Cambridge before. She was astonished when she reached the field to see the great crowd of spectators. It was a scene that she had never imagined. Tier above tier at one side were the benches filled with men and women, with bright flags fluttering, or rather little banners and handkerchiefs, all eagerly looking towards the centre. Then there was the great throng of students massed by themselves, and the crowds of older men, all intent on the coming game.

What cheers as the rival elevens came upon the field! For an instant the volume of sound seemed almost as strong for Princeton as for Harvard. From the very first moment when Princeton lined up for the kick-off Julia's eyes eagerly followed the ball. At the beginning Princeton seemed to lead, but when Harvard gained ten yards on two rushes by her full-back, and her left half-back had the ball on Princeton's thirty-yard line, the crimson scarfs fluttered very prettily.

"Say, isn't that a fine play for Roth," cried Philip, as the Harvard fall-back tore through Princeton's centre for four yards planting the ball on the thirty-yard line, and then a little later after some good play on both sides, he yelled wildly as he saw that Princeton was really driven to the last ditch, with Harvard only one yard to gain. Both made the try, and scored a touch-down in exactly fifteen minutes' play. Then when Hall, on the Harvard side, a great stalwart fellow brought the ball out, and held it for Hutton to kick on the try for goal, even Frances Pounder lost her air of indifference, and as the ball struck the goal post, and bounded back, she watched to see whether this was a time for applause, and finally condescended to clap her hands. The score now stood Harvard 4, Princeton 0, and Philip and Will excusing themselves for a few minutes leaped down to talk matters over with their classmates standing below at the end of the benches. As the game continued Roth distinguished himself still further. He scored another touch-down for Harvard from which a goal was kicked, making the score 10 to 0.

"It's almost too one-sided," said Julia, "and I can't exactly understand it, for the Princeton men seem to be playing well, and really if you look at them, they are larger than most of the Harvard players,--_that_ ought to count in a game like this."

"Well the game isn't over yet, and there may be some surprises before it is through."

But just here Philip and his friend returned, and when Belle asked what the other men thought of the Princeton prospects, "Oh, they haven't a leg to stand on," said Philip, "at least that's what every one says, and you can see for yourself now, they can't hold out against our men."

"I'm thankful for one thing," said Mrs. Blair, leaning towards her son, "there haven't been any serious accidents yet, although I am always expecting something dreadful to happen."

Hardly had she spoken, when two or three ladies in the neighborhood screamed. Princeton had just secured the ball, when one of her men who had fallen with half a dozen others on top of him, seemed unable to rise. He had in fact to be carried from the field, and though the girls afterward learned that he had only broken his collar bone, like so many other spectators, for the time being they were decidedly alarmed at his condition. After this Princeton had a little better luck. Harvard tried for a goal from the thirty-five-yard line, but missed. Then the ball was Princeton's on her twenty-five-yard line, and after several rushes with small gains, the ball was passed back to Princeton's full-back for a kick. The ball went high in the air, and the Princeton's ends got down the field in beautiful shape. A Harvard half-back muffed the ball, and it was Princeton's on Harvard's twenty-yard line. Just here, Belle, emboldened by the turn of events managed to take a large orange and black scarf from her pocket. As yet she had not dared to wave it, though if you stop to think, had she been truly sympathetic, she ought to have had courage to show her colors even when her chosen side was losing ground.

Now in spite of the improvement in Princeton's play, the score had not changed, though Princeton had the ball on Harvard's ten-yard line when two minutes later the first half ended.

In the second half of the game there was more excitement than in the first. Roth, who had been the hero of the afternoon in Harvard eyes, was carried off, and two or three Princeton men were disabled. Harvard, contrary to what had been expected was apparently playing the fiercer game. The yell of the Harvard sympathizers grew louder and louder.

In two downs Princeton had gained four yards. Then when the ball was passed to Dinsmore the noted Princeton half-back, Douglass, the popular Harvard quarter-back tore through the centre, and downed Dinsmore with the loss of five yards, making it Harvard's ball on Princeton's twenty-two yard line.

The wildest hurrahing--a perfect pandemonium--now arose from the Harvard bleachers. For the crimson was within striking distance of a touch-down, and the orange had begun to droop. The girls in Edith's party, even those not wholly familiar with the game in its finer points, were thoroughly worked up. Some of the rough play worried Edith, and she buried her face in her hands with a shudder when Jefferson, the Harvard centre was carried from the field apparently senseless.

"Don't be a goose, Edith," whispered Nora, "you know that it can't be anything very dreadful, or they wouldn't go on playing."

"Oh, yes, they would," murmured Edith. "They'd do anything in a football game, they haven't a bit of feeling." But she lifted her head, and was repaid by seeing Hutton kick a goal from the field thus sending the score up to fifteen. This especially pleased her, because Hutton's little sister, who had a high opinion of her brother's prowess, was a great pet of hers.

"Don't you feel much as the Roman women used to feel at the Coliseum games?" Julia contrived to say to Ruth in one of the intervals of play.