“Well, I daresay that can be managed—”
“Penelope—do come!” called Cara’s voice in the distance, and Penelope, accompanied by her sister, had to fly downstairs.
A few minutes later, Brenda found herself in the wide, open court. She was partly sheltered by a great awning. Here the prizes were to be given away, a few speeches were to be made, and a few recitations given by some of the most accomplished girls and teachers.
No one took any special notice of her, and this acute young person discovered that if she did not play her own cards well and immediately, she would be out of the fun. Now, this was the last thing she wished. The slight feeling of discomfort which had arisen in her breast when she saw Honora Beverley in her simple and exquisite dress had vanished: the colour brightened in her cheeks; she felt assured that she looked well, and assuredly she was pretty, although second-class.
She deliberately took a seat near two young men who were brothers of two of the older girls. She asked one of them quite an innocent question, to which he replied. She decided that he was good-looking and that she could have a pleasant day in his company, and immediately requested him, in that simple and pathetic voice which always so strongly appealed to the Reverend Josiah, to tell her all about the company—who was who, and what was what. She said that she herself was a lonely girl who had come from a distance to behold her dear sister in that exquisite creation, Helen of Troy. She talked of Helen as though she had been that good woman’s intimate friend from her youth up, and managed to impress both young men with a lively sense of her pleasantness and her frank, daring sort of beauty.
Presently, one of the little Hungerford girls came along. She belonged to the smaller girls of the school. She came straight up to the young man who was talking to Brenda, and, leaning against him, said in a disconsolate voice:
“It is quite lost; mother did promise that I should have it. Pauline has got hers—hers has a ruby clasp, but mine with the blue turquoise can’t be found anywhere!”
“Why, what is it, Nelly?” said the young man. “Nelly, may I introduce you to this young lady.”
“My name is Carlton—Brenda Carlton. I am the sister of your friend Penelope, who is to be Helen of Troy,” said Brenda. “Is anything wrong, dear?” she continued, speaking kindly, and bending forward so as almost to caress the child by her manner.
Young Hungerford’s dark face quite flushed, and he made room for his little sister to sit between him and Brenda for a minute.