A NEW MEMBER.
"In the circle of this Forest."
In Friendship the summer was never fairly ushered in until Commencements were over. When the boys of the Military Institute, a mile beyond the village, had yelled their last yell from the back platform of the train as it swept around the curve, and Mrs. Graham's boarders had departed, accompanied by their trunks and the enthusiastic farewells of the town pupils, then, and not before, Friendship settled down to the enjoyment of picnics, crabbing parties, and moonlight excursions.
Going away for the summer was almost unknown in Friendship; a week or two at the shore or in the mountains was as much as any of its loyal inhabitants dreamed of. To the few who like Genevieve Whittredge found the place dull at any season, the warm days afforded a welcome excuse for flitting.
After the final decision in the Gilpin will case Friendship drew a long breath and acquiesced in the inevitable. Arguments and discussion lost their interest, and something like the old peace settled down on the town.
The Gilpin house and its contents must now be sold, but summer was not an advantageous season, and the sale had been postponed till early fall in the hope of attracting from a distance lovers of old furniture.
Thus the place was left untenanted. Weeds ran riot in the garden, the grass crept stealthily over the walks, and the clematis and honeysuckle on the low stone wall mingled their sweetness in undisturbed luxuriance. The Arden Foresters were free to come and go as they chose, the only other trespasser being Celia Fair, who when her household tasks were done often brought her sewing to Patricia's Arbor, with the feeling that her days there were numbered.
At the Whittredges' Genevieve was making her preparations to leave soon after the return of her brother Allan, who was looked for any day. Her mother's restless mind had taken a sudden fitful interest in some genealogical question, and welcoming anything that diverted her thoughts from herself had thrown all her energies into the subject, spending most of her time at her desk or in reading old letters.
Rosalind was left to go her ways; if she appeared at meal-time, no questions were asked, Miss Herbert, indeed, shook her head at such liberty. A girl of Rosalind's age should be learning something useful, instead of running about the village or poring over story books. She could not know that with a certain old play for a textbook the children she thought so harum-scarum were learning brave lessons this summer.
Rosalind was happy. The hours when she was not with one or all of these new friends of hers were few, and these she usually spent in the garden, which she was beginning to love, with a book. She had discovered some old books of her father's, given to him in his boyhood, with his name and the date in them, in itself enough to cast a halo over the most stupid tale.
When the sun shone on the garden seat beside the white birch, there was another favorite spot in the shade of a tall cedar, where an occasional stir of wind brought the spray from the fountain against her face.
Yes, in spite of the puzzles, Rosalind was beginning to love Friendship. It was weeks since Great-uncle Allan had seemed to frown on her, and even the griffins wore a friendlier look; as for the rose, she had come to doubt the evidence of her own eyes since that afternoon at the magician's when Miss Fair had shown such friendliness.
The summer so dreary in prospect to Maurice bade fair to be endurable after all. Rosalind's gray eyes, now merry, now serious, but always seeking the good in things, her contagious belief in the Forest, had stirred his manliness, making him conscious of his fretfulness, and then ashamed. His mother, who had dreaded the long holiday, wondered at his content. Katherine wondered a little too. The Forest of Arden made a very nice game, and it was pleasant to have Maurice in a good humor, but she did not quite understand the connection.
Soon after the close of school Colonel Parton took his two older boys away on a western trip, leaving Jack with no resource but Maurice and the girls. The two boys were great chums, and as Maurice's knee made active sports impossible, Jack, too, gave them up for the most part.
As for Belle, her indifference to Rosalind had turned into ardent admiration. She and Charlotte Ellis had a sharp dispute over the new-comer. Charlotte confessed she was disappointed in her, and pronounced her odd, all of which Belle deeply resented, the result being a decided coolness between them.
"I am as glad as I can be Charlotte is going away this summer," she was heard to remark.
"She can't be as glad as I am that we aren't going to be in the same town," was Charlotte's retort when the speech was repeated to her.
The cleverness of Maurice and Rosalind was duly impressed upon the other three when the constitution of The Arden Foresters was read, and after careful consideration it had been copied in the blank-book, and beneath it the members signed their names. The excitement of Commencement week being over, a meeting was called to decide on a badge.
It had been decided that any member might call a meeting, and the method was suggested by Belle. In each garden a spot was selected,—an althea bush at the Partons', a corner of the hedge at the Roberts's, a cedar near the gate at the Whittredges',—in which the summons, a tiny roll of paper tied with grass, was to be deposited.
On the morning appointed for this meeting of The Arden Foresters, Celia Fair, knowing nothing about it, of course, had just settled herself in the arbor with a cushion at her back and her work-basket beside her, when Rosalind looked in. She carried a book and a bunch of leaves, and she seemed surprised to find the summer-house occupied. Her manner was hesitating as, after saying good morning, she asked if Miss Fair had seen Maurice or Belle.
"No; are you expecting them? Won't you come in and sit down while you wait?" Celia asked, noticing the hesitation.
"I wonder what they have told her about me?" was her thought. It brought a flush to her face, and yet why did she care?
Rosalind accepted the invitation shyly. "I must be early," she said. "I was to meet the others here at ten, but I went to drive first with grandmamma."
"It is still ten minutes of ten," Celia said, looking at her watch. "Are you going to have a picnic?"
"No; only a meeting of our society."
"What sort of a society?" Celia asked.
"A secret society," Rosalind replied, with a demure smile.
"Oh, is it? That sounds interesting, but I suppose I can't know any more. What is your book? That isn't part of the secret, is it?"
Rosalind slipped off the paper cover and laid the little volume in Celia's lap.
The young lady took it up, exclaiming with delight over the binding of soft leather, the handmade paper, and beautiful type. It fell open at the fly-leaf with the inscription.
"And Professor Sargent gave you this Lovely book?" she said.
Rosalind's eyes shone at this tribute. "Cousin Louis gave it to me just before he and father started for Japan, and he wrote that about the hard things because I wanted so much to go with them and I couldn't," she explained.
"Rosalind, what was it you were talking to Maurice about, here behind the arbor one day? I couldn't help hearing a little. It had something to do with a forest." Celia had dropped the book in her lap and looked at Rosalind with something that was almost eagerness in her lace.
Rosalind thought a moment, "Why, did you hear us? I know now what it was," and she turned the leaves and pointed to the paragraph beginning, "If we will, we may travel always in the Forest," then she added shyly, "You ought to belong to the Forest because of your name."
"'So losing by the way the sacred gift of happiness,'" Celia repeated, her eyes on the book. "What do you mean by belonging to the Forest?" she asked, looking up.
Rosalind seldom needed to be urged to talk on this subject, and she had a sympathetic listener as she explained the Forest secret, and told how it had helped her in the loneliness of those first days in Friendship.
Celia was lonely and sad. She had held aloof so long in her proud reserve that now there seemed nowhere to turn for the sympathy she longed for, and Rosalind's little allegory, with its simple message of patience and hope, fell upon ground well prepared.
"Oh, Rosalind," she cried, "show me how to live in the Forest!" and with a manner altogether out of keeping with the Celia known to most persons, she drew the child to her. "I wish you would love me, dear," she said.
Rosalind's shyness faded away. She forgot about the rose, and Aunt Genevieve's words. Here was a new friend, one who cared about the Forest. She responded warmly to Celia's caress, and when a few minutes later the other Arden Foresters rushed upon the scene, the two were talking together as if they had known each other always.
"Miss Celia, are you going to join our society?" asked Belle, the ardent, flying to her side and giving her a hug.
"Don't stick yourself on my needle! I haven't been invited yet. Rosalind tells me it is a secret society, and of course I am dying to know about it."
"Let's tell her," said Katherine.
"Girls always want to tell everything," remarked Jack, causing Belle to frown upon him sternly.
"The magician has joined," added Rosalind.
"Then I don't see why Miss Celia can't. Do you, Maurice?" asked Belle.
"Listen, Belle," said Celia, laughing, and without waiting for Maurice's reply, "there may be some difference of opinion as to whether I should be a desirable member or not; suppose you go over there under the oak and talk it over. Then if you want me I'll consider the question."
This seemed a sensible suggestion, and the Foresters retired to the shade of the scarlet oak to discuss the matter. Jack had meant nothing but a fling at the feminine fondness for telling things, and was astonished that his remark could be supposed to reflect upon Miss Celia; and as no one else found any objection to the new member, they returned presently to inform her that she was by unanimous consent invited to become an honorary member of their society.
"As honorary members aren't expected to do much, I'll consider it. Now please tell me about it. What is its name and object?"
Maurice produced the book and read, "'The name of this Society shall be The Arden Foresters.'"
"That sounds like Robin Hood, don't you think?" Belle put in.
"'The object,'" Maurice continued, "'shall be to remember the Secret of the Forest, to bear hard things bravely, to search for the ring, and reciprocity.'"
"What ring?" Celia asked, smiling at the queer ending to this article.
"Don't you know? Patricia's ring. The one that is lost," Rosalind explained, sorting her leaves.
"I fear it is a hopeless quest."
"Maurice," Rosalind exclaimed, "that is the word we wanted,—the 'quest' of the ring. Let's put it in."
"What does it mean?" asked Katherine.
"A search," Celia answered.
"Then why won't 'search' do?"
"But 'quest' sounds more like the Forest," Rosalind urged.
"More romantic," added Belle, adjusting her comb and tying her ribbon.
"One word is as good as another if it means what you want to say," insisted Jack. "They think they are so smart with their 'reciprocity,' and they got it out of a book."
Rosalind glanced at him reproachfully. "We looked in the dictionary for the meaning," she said.
"I see no objection to getting it out of a book. Most constitutions are patterned after others, and reciprocity is a good word. Is there any more?" Miss Celia spread her work on her knee and turned to Maurice.
"Just the watchword 'The Forest.'"
"I like your society very much and want to join if, as you suggested, I can be an honorary member. I can try to bear hard things bravely, and remember the Forest secret, although I haven't any time to give to the quest of the ring."
"Then let her write her name under the magician's," said Rosalind, clapping her hands. "Now we have seven members."
Maurice had his fountain-pen in his pocket, just as if he had expected a new member this morning, and Celia signed her name in the book beneath "C.J. Morgan, Magician."
"He wrote that for fun, because Rosalind calls him 'the magician,'" Belle explained.
"I haven't heard that old title for many a year," Celia remarked, as she waited for her signature to dry.
"Now we have to choose a badge," said Belle.
Rosalind spread out her collection of leaves. "We thought a leaf would be appropriate," she added. There were beech, and maple, and poplar, and oak in several varieties.
"I think I should choose this," and Celia pointed to a leaf from the scarlet oak. "Not only because it is beautiful in shape, but because the oak tree stands for courage. A 'heart of oak' has become a proverb, you know."
Rosalind's eyes grew bright. "I didn't think of its having a meaning. I like that."
"And in the fall we'll have scarlet badges instead of green ones," said Jack.
There could be no better choice than this, they all agreed; and Jack gathered a handful, that they might put on their badges at once.
"On our way home we must stop and tell the magician about it," Rosalind said, as she pinned a leaf on Celia's dress.