Chapter 5

THEIR FIRST MEETING

The drawing-room at the Ashton homestead ran the whole length of one side of the house and on this particular May afternoon was so filled with sunshine and light that even the old portraits on the walls appeared to change their severe Puritanical expressions and to look down, from out their heavy gold frames, with something almost approaching friendliness, on the strange girl now alone in the room, although nothing in her appearance or manner suggested the birth and breeding partly responsible for their New England pride.

The girl was also humbly engaged in placing fresh flowers on the tables and mantel and in rearranging the chairs and ornaments in the room to their best advantage. Finally, after a lingering glance out the front window, she picked up her last vase of flowers, a single branch of apple blossoms in a tall, green jar, and, crossing over to the grand piano so placed it that the sunlight shone full upon it. Then she stood for a moment looking thoughtfully at the open keyboard, which had a small sheet of music spread before it. Esther Clark next sat down at the piano and lightly ran her fingers over the keys so that it could scarcely have been possible for any one farther away than the adjoining hall to have heard her playing. The refrain was simple and repeated itself, yet had dramatic force and lingered in one's memory, the musical call of the watchword for the Camp Fire Girls.

Only that morning Betty had asked Esther to try to teach this call to her friends when they came together at her home that afternoon to form their club, and though Esther was painfully shy she felt obliged to do her best. Some few of Betty's friends were known to her through their acquaintance at school, but into not one of their homes had she ever been invited socially.

The door of the drawing-room farthest from the piano opened quietly.

"Betty," a young man's voice inquired reproachfully, "aren't you even glad enough to see me to say hello? When before did I ever know you so devoted to practicing that you wouldn't stop for any excuse, and yet here I have come all the way home from Portsmouth on your account!"

Richard Ashton ceased talking abruptly, for instead of the pretty figure of his sister, Betty, he now beheld rising from the piano stool a tall girl with bright red hair, looking as though she had been frightened speechless.

"Great Caesar's ghost, what a homely girl!" was his first thought, but not a change in his expression revealed what was in the young man's mind as he stretched forth his hand.

"I am sorry to have interrupted you," he said quickly, "but I am Richard Ashton, Betty's brother."

Of course he expected that the strange girl would then answer him, at least tell him who she was or give some explanation of her presence, but instead Esther stood silently looking down at the floor and twisting her hands together in a wholly unnecessary state of embarrassment.

Richard Ashton was of medium height, slenderly built, but with broad shoulders, and at this time of life twenty-three years old. His hair and eyes were light brown; he bore no resemblance to Betty and had a curiously serious expression for so young and fortunate a fellow. Although not handsome, Dick had a look of purpose and distinction and always had unconsciously served as the ideal for Betty's girl friends. He was a Princeton graduate, but was now studying medicine in Portsmouth and expected later to continue his studies in Germany. Perhaps it was his own seriousness and settled purpose that had made him assist in spoiling his small sister almost from her babyhood, yet lately seeing Betty's restlessness and discontent he had begun to wonder if he and his father and mother had been as kind to her as they had meant to be. Betty was growing up and it might be she too needed to have something asked of her, that she too wished to give as well as to receive.

"I am not your sister's friend (the girl near the piano had finally made up her mind to speak), I am only a kind of companion, to help her with her studying or to do whatever she desires."

Dick Ashton laughed, his face immediately losing its look of gravity. "Well, that is no particular reason why you should not be her friend as well, is it? At least I hope Betty won't make the task too hard for you, but as to doing all the things she desires, I am afraid that will keep you pretty busy. I believe I remember now, my mother did write me about asking you to come here to stay; you have lived before--" The young man hesitated. But Esther had now come nearer and really she seemed almost too plain even to serve his pretty sister, Betty, the contrast might be too hard for the homely girl.

"You were playing something when I came in, won't you go on," Dick continued hastily, fearing that the strange girl, with her pale eyes fixed on his, might be able to read his inmost thoughts and not desiring to hurt her feelings. However she had started, edging toward the door. "I would much rather not; your sister is to have some friends here this afternoon and wishes me to teach them a few lines of music. I hope your mother won't mind my touching this splendid piano."

"What on earth is the girl afraid of? I have no desire to eat her," Richard thought to himself, continuing to observe Esther's frightened expression and nervous manner, but only answering good-naturedly: "Certainly she won't mind. Please use the piano whenever you like, for Betty hates practicing and I don't care much for a man musician, especially a poor one, though I love music."

Just for a moment the newcomer's timidity vanished and her smile of pleasure, showing her big, strong mouth with its white teeth, relieved her face of its entire plainness. "I should love it more than anything in the world; would you mind asking your mother if I may? I am afraid to ask her."

"But not afraid of asking me?" Richard laughed; he had made his suggestion without any special thought, but the girl might as well be allowed to bang at their piano if she liked. Should she get it out of order why it could soon be straightened out again. And then kindness to persons less fortunate than himself was second nature with Richard Ashton.

"Here is the mater coming, I will ask her at once," he returned, and then seeing Esther's unspoken look of entreaty, as he went forward to open the door for his mother, he silently agreed to postpone his request.

Mrs. Ashton was a tall, blonde, handsomely dressed woman, who rarely showed affection for anyone save her husband and children and whose leisure time was largely devoted to playing bridge. Neither Betty nor her son looked like her. Richard resembled his father, while Betty must have inherited her appearance from some more remote ancestor. In one comer of the parlor hung an oil painting of one of Mr. Ashton's great-aunts, a young English girl in a white muslin dress and picture hat, whom Betty always insisted she resembled.

Mrs. Ashton was frowning anxiously.

"Hasn't Betty returned, Dick?" she inquired. "It is an hour since luncheon and her friends may arrive at any moment. The child was not at all well yesterday and, I do wonder if her science teacher can be keeping her in, Miss McMurtry is so inconsiderate. I really don't know what to do about Betty this summer, she is so opposed to going to Europe with us again and wants to form a club or a camp, something perfectly extraordinary, so as to spend her summer in the woods. She almost talked your father into the idea last evening, but I do hope, dear Richard, that you will oppose her. You have such influence with Betty."

Dick and his mother were standing together by the window now on the lookout, for the truant. "Don't be such a weakling, mother," the young man replied teasingly. "If you really wish Betty to go to Europe with you and father say so and let that settle the matter, but I am not so sure this new scheme of hers is a bad one. Betty sent me a night telegram at bedtime last night (telephoned it, I suppose, when you thought she was in bed) asking me to come home for the day and help her get her own way. Living out of doors all summer, mother, and learning to look after herself and to rub up against other girls may be the best thing in the world for Betty. I am afraid she has been growing up to be more ornamental than useful."

"There is no reason why Betty should be anything but ornamental," Mrs. Ashton argued, although plainly thinking over her son's words.

Dick Ashton shook his head. "No, mother, the modern world has no place in it but for useful people nowadays. And somehow it seems to me that even more is going to be asked of women than has been asked of men. They have got to do their own housekeeping and some of the world's too, pretty soon."

Before the young fellow finished speaking he and his mother were both smiling and waving their hands toward Mollie and Polly O'Neill, who were at this moment crossing the street with several other girl friends. Before they entered the house, however, Betty's automobile, driven by herself, dashed into sight, containing five other passengers: Margaret Everett and her small brother; Miss McMurtry, the science teacher at the high school; a tall girl with a clever face and a far-away expression in her near-sighted blue eyes; and a fifth girl, an entire stranger both to Mrs. Ashton and Dick and until a short while before an equal stranger to Betty.

Almost before the car stopped Betty was out of her seat and ushering her visitors into their big, sweet-smelling drawing-room. There Esther stood close against the wall, trying her best to shrink out of sight even while she reproached herself for her unnecessary awkwardness and fear. Suppose she had had no home and no social training like the greater number of these other girls, yet did she not mean to follow forever the law of the Camp Fire and would it not teach her in time to gain the knowledge necessary to happiness?