Brenda's Ward Part 32

"Martine," called Mrs. Stratford from her corner a few minutes later, and Martine hurried to her mother's side.

"Sit down, dear," added Mrs. Stratford, then with a shade of anxiety in her voice. "But you look tired. I fear you have been working too hard.

Perhaps you did more than your share in preparing this boudoir for me."

"Oh, no, Angelina and Timothy worked much harder than I. But it _is_ a cosy corner. Between the awning and the trees, you will be as well shaded from the sun as you would be indoors, and an open window wouldn't begin to give you so much air."

Martine swung herself into the hammock.

"There, I feel like a bird. Mother dear, you called me for something special, what is it?"

"Only to say that Angelina is anxious to know how we will celebrate."

"Celebrate?"

"Yes, Miss Martine." Angelina had reappeared on the scene with Mrs.

Stratford's gla.s.s of milk. "Celebrate," she repeated. "Why, Miss Martine, you haven't forgotten what day to-morrow is?"

Martine sat upright in the hammock. "I really and truly had, but now you mention it it's the great and glorious Fourth, and what of that?" she concluded, waving her hand dramatically.

"Oh, Miss Martine, it wouldn't be right to pa.s.s it by unnoticed. Why at the North End we used to sit up all the night before, and the streets were as full of noise as if a war was going on."

"We couldn't celebrate in exactly that way," responded Martine smiling.

"I am almost sure that I won't sit up to-night, and as to fire-crackers, what's the good, unless there's a boy in the house?"

Again the sober expression returned to Martine's face, as this mention of the Fourth brought vividly to mind the many celebrations in which she and Lucian had taken a lively interest. Where was Lucian now? Would the whole family ever be together again?

She came to herself with Angelina's high-pitched voice still ringing in her ears.

"So I felt quite sure that you wouldn't object as the ten weeks is more than past, and as I've paid all that up, why, I made sure you wouldn't mind my spending just a little for fireworks. But I'd like you to look in your little book first."

"I know it's all settled, Angelina, but you can bring me that little red book from the drawer in my writing-table."

While Angelina was in the house, Martine explained to her mother what she had meant by "paying up."

"It is that money Lucian paid for the hall. He told her to give it back to me. So she has been paying a dollar and a half a week. It is Lucian's money, though he wished me to keep it, and I agreed not to let Angelina know that it was he who helped her."

"It is to Angelina's credit that she has paid so promptly."

"It really is, mamma, and I think it has been rather a good thing as it has kept her from spending all her money foolishly. Of course, the hall itself was a foolish expense, yet these last few weeks she has been able to waste only part of her money, but now--"

At this moment Angelina appeared with the little red book, and Martine, quickly turning to the pages with her account, saw to Angelina's satisfaction as well as her own, that the indebtedness for the hall had been cancelled.

"There," cried Angelina, folding up the receipt that Martine with business-like exactness gave her. "I am relieved. Now I can celebrate all I want to, for fire-crackers cost a lot."

"Please don't waste your money on fireworks."

"Really, Angelina, you must not," added Martine.

But Angelina, making no reply either to Mrs. Stratford or Martine--unless a nod and three shakes of the head and a broad smile could be called a reply, flew down the little slope toward the road.

The morning of the Fourth was so quiet that Martine might have forgotten the great and glorious holiday but for Angelina. Before the breakfast dishes were washed, the latter was outside striking torpedoes against the stone that formed the kitchen doorstep.

When Mrs. Stratford went with her books to her retreat under the trees in the garden, she found two small flags standing in the vase that was usually filled with flowers.

When once her mind was turned toward the Fourth, Martine began to recall Independence Days of the past. What fun she and Lucian used to have!

Why, they often had been up before sunrise to play with their fire-crackers and torpedoes. Then at night--

"I wonder," mused Martine, "if any other children ever had half the sport we had. Set pieces, and fire balloons, as well as rockets; how indulgent father always was. No wonder I feel blue to-day, and expect too much--when it isn't likely that in this town a single person is thinking about us."

The day, as befitted the holiday, proved hot, and Martine, swinging languidly in the hammock, at length admitted to herself that she was glad that she had no troublesome social engagement to keep, and she maintained this opinion even in face of Angelina's report, after a walk to the village, that there seemed to be a great deal going on.

To oblige Angelina, dinner instead of tea was served at five, and it proved a great success.

"I would like to have served red white and blue ice-cream, but I didn't know how to make it blue, so it's red and white," apologized Angelina.

"I might have supplied the blue this morning," said Martine. "It's too late now." But no one understood her feeble attempt at a pun.

"It seems worse," said Angelina, as they gathered up the dishes, "to leave dinner things to be washed until morning, but if your mother don't mind--"

"I am sure that I don't," said Martine, "and as for mother--why, of course she won't care."

"Well, I have some very important business to attend to--if you'll excuse me."

Upon this Angelina disappeared, and in the pleasant twilight Martine went outside with her mother to the little retreat in the garden.

"I half wish," said Mrs. Stratford, "that we had had a few fireworks.

Even if we are shut off from the world, we ought not to forget the Fourth. I didn't suppose there would be much celebrating down here, but see!"

Looking where her mother pointed, Martine saw a great fire balloon soaring slowly into the air. They watched it until it disappeared and as the twilight deepened, they counted many rockets and Roman candles going up in various directions.

Before Martine could decide whether it would be wise to recall the Fourth when Lucian almost put his eye out by blowing into a fire-cracker to see if it was still burning, Angelina appeared on the scene with a number of packages. These she deposited on the slope in front of the house with consequential air.

"Angelina," cried Mrs. Stratford.

"Yes'm," responded Angelina.

"Angelina," called Martine, and without waiting for a reply walked down to where the girl was undoing her packages.

"Then you really have fire-crackers here?"

"Yes, Miss Martine, and rockets, and Roman candles, and fire balloons, at least only one balloon. It didn't seem homelike not to have something doing on the Fourth, and now that I can spend my own money, there's no reason why I shouldn't celebrate."

Martine had no reply for this unanswerable argument, and in a second she, too, was busy helping.

"I might have bought some myself, if I had thought of it in time."

"That's it, if you'd thought of it in time. My, that's fine," and Angelina clapped her hands, as a rocket shot into the air falling in a shower of golden stars.