It would make a long story to tell what every one said on the subject of Brenda's folly. For this was the name given it, and by this name it was long remembered, much to Brenda's discomfiture, when the subject of Mrs. Rosa and her money was brought up.

There were so many persons who had a right to express an opinion, that poor Brenda felt that simply to listen to what they said was punishment enough. There were all the girls who had worked for the Bazaar, and all their parents, and all the girls at school who hadn't worked for the Bazaar, but had done their share of buying. There were the boys from Harvard, whose criticism took the form of mild chaffing, and there were—but the list, it seemed to Brenda, included every one whom she had ever known, and some with whom she was sure that she had no acquaintance.

Mr. and Mrs. Barlow were especially severe, and told her that she must gradually reimburse The Four from her allowance. "For the money," said Mr. Barlow, "did not belong to you, you held it in trust for Edith, and Belle, and Nora, and indeed I wonder how they ever came to entrust it entirely to you. You are too heedless a girl to have any real responsibility, and I only hope that your thoughtlessness is not going to deprive Mrs. Rosa of the country home that Miss South and the others have planned for her."

Poor Brenda! Before that fatal Saturday two hundred dollars had seemed to her very little, but now it seemed an almost infinite amount. Her father, of course, could easily have given her the sum at once, but he preferred to make her realize her heedlessness. Indeed the lesson had already begun to benefit her; for the first time in her life Brenda realized the value of money. How in the world could she herself ever save the required sum from her allowance. Why, if she should not spend a cent upon her own little wants it would take her more than two years to get together two hundred dollars. For her allowance it should be explained, was large enough only to provide little extra things that she needed, or thought that she needed. She had not to use any of it for clothes, or other useful purposes. Yet when Brenda began to count the things that she must give up for two years, or longer, it seemed as if she could hardly bear the sacrifice. But her sense of justice prevailed, and at last she admitted that she deserved this punishment.

"Poor Brenda!" said Mr. Barlow to Mrs. Barlow, as Brenda walked away after this interview with her head bent as if in reflection. "Poor Brenda! This lesson will be a hard one, but if we are ready to help her out of every difficulty, she will never be able to stand alone. I, at least, could not feel justified in coming to the rescue just now."

After this conversation with her father, Brenda walked upstairs sadly, at least her head drooped a little, and any one who had followed her to her room would have found that the first thing she did was to fling herself, face downward on that broad chintz-covered lounge of hers. While she lay there, she did not hear a gentle knock at the door, nor the soft footstep of some one entering the room.

"Why, Brenda Barlow," cried a pleasant voice. "Why, Brenda Barlow, why are you lying in this downcast position?"

"'Why, Brenda Barlow, why are you lying in this downcast position?'"

At first there was no reply from the prostrate figure. Then Julia—for it was she who had entered the room—ventured a little nearer, and repeated her question in a somewhat different form.

Thereupon Brenda sprang to her feet, and though she attempted to smile at Julia, there were very evident traces of tears on her cheek.

"Brenda," said Julia, "you know that I am very apt to go straight to the point, if I wish to say anything, and so I will not apologize for what I am going to say. I am sure that you won't be offended if I tell you that you are thinking too much about the loss of Mrs. Rosa's money. I have been noticing you for several days." (It was now about a week since Miss South had made the discovery of the loss.)

As Brenda made no reply, Julia continued, this time a little timidly, "Nora and Edith feel sorry that you will not take an interest in the plans for moving Mrs. Rosa to Shiloh. You know we have been out to see the cottage, and we missed you dreadfully. Belle wasn't there either, but since the Bazaar she hasn't been as much interested in the Rosas. But we thought that you really had some interest."

"Why, yes, I have," replied Brenda. She did not resent Julia's "we" in speaking of the efforts now making for the Rosas, although not so very long before Brenda herself had opposed having Julia considered one of "The Four."

"Why, yes, I have an interest in Mrs. Rosa," repeated Brenda, then with a return of her old light-heartedness. "Two hundred dollars' worth of interest, and what bothers me is to know how to turn it into capital." (You see from this that Brenda had not altogether forgotten her arithmetic.)

"There, Brenda, that is just what I have been wishing to speak about to you. I have been afraid that you have been worrying over this. For Uncle Thomas has told me that he has decided not to help you to pay it."

Again the girl to whom she was speaking seemed unlike the old Brenda, for she did not resent the fact that Julia had apparently been taken into Mr. Barlow's confidence to so great an extent.

"Now, Brenda," continued Julia, "as I have said before, I always prefer to come straight to the point, and so I must tell you that the two hundred dollars has been paid to Miss South—the other girls have voted to make her the treasurer—for Mrs. Rosa's benefit."

"Where in the world,—" began Brenda, in a most astonished tone. Then with a glance at Julia's face, over which an expression of self-consciousness was spreading, "Why, Julia Bourne, had you anything, did you, why I really believe that you had something to do with it. Did you get some one to give you the money?"

"No," replied Julia, with a look of relief, "oh, no, no, I made no effort to collect money."

Brenda's wits were now well at work.

"There, Julia, I begin to see; it seemed funny when you paid one hundred dollars for that picture, at least I thought very little about it then, but to-day when I was going over everything connected with the Rosas in my mind, it occurred to me that one hundred dollars was a rather large amount for you to pay, and I meant to ask you how it happened—" then stammering a little, as she realized that this was not a very polite way of putting things, "at least, I know that I should never have so much money saved up from my allowance for any one thing. But you are more sensible than I, and of course you can make money go a great deal farther."

Julia smiled pleasantly, for she understood in spite of a certain confusion of statement, pretty well what her cousin meant.

But still she did not answer immediately, and Brenda, who was now thoroughly herself, exclaimed,

"Do tell me, Julia, did you give that two hundred dollars to Mrs. Rosa, that is, was it a present from you?"

For a moment Julia was silent, then she replied with some hesitation, "Yes, yes, although I had not meant to tell you, it is my little contribution to the plan you all have made for helping the Rosas. I have been wishing to do something, and it seemed better to give this now, when the money was so much needed, rather than to wait until later, as at one time I had thought of doing. Though I am sure," she continued modestly, "that there would have been little trouble in raising the money, only I thought that it was better for me to make my contribution promptly now, while you were——"

"Then it was just to help me; so that there would not be so much fault finding with me. Why you are a perfect angel, Julia," cried Brenda.

"Hardly," said Julia, laughing. "Hardly an angel, though if this makes you feel more comfortable, I shall be very happy."

Brenda was on the point of asking her cousin how she happened to have all this money, for the more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed.

Before she could ask a question, Julia however had bidden her good-bye, saying that she had an engagement with Edith, and Brenda was forced to wait an opportunity for getting the information she wished from her mother. After all, the explanation was fairly simple. Brenda and Belle without good grounds had decided at the first that Julia was entirely dependent on Mr. Barlow. Instead of this Julia had a good income of her own, which when she came of age would be largely increased. The girls had wrongly assumed that Julia was studying and working diligently simply because she expected at some time to be obliged to earn her living, whereas the real motive behind all her efforts was her genuine love of study. Had circumstances made it necessary Julia would have enjoyed the teacher's profession, as a means of earning her living. In fact sometimes when she thought about her future she found herself regretting that she could not adopt this profession. But she knew that the ranks were already fairly crowded, and she felt that she would have no right to enter a profession that could barely support those who needed it as a means of livelihood. Brenda and Belle had made many mistakes not only in their estimation of her fortune but in the reading of her character.

Brenda was beginning to find out her own mistakes, and when once she was convinced of a fault she was seldom slow to acknowledge it. In the end she would have been fair to Julia even if her cousin had not established a certain claim upon her by her generosity towards the Rosas. For really by giving the money so promptly she had saved Brenda from a continuation of annoying criticism. Two hundred dollars was not an extremely large sum for a rich girl to give to a good cause, but Julia's delicacy and thoughtfulness made Brenda her firm friend. Belle, naturally enough, was not so ready to change her point of view. When she did permit herself to show greater cordiality towards Julia, it was rather because she had a full appreciation of what it would mean to her to have a girl of Julia's wealth her friend. It was hard for Belle to take an impersonal view of anything, and this, perhaps, was largely the reason why she became of less consequence in the little set which had been called "The Four Club." As the others of the quartette grew older, Belle's selfishness became more and more disagreeable to them. Although there was still a quartette of friends, Julia began to have the fourth place, while Belle gradually withdrew to the more congenial society of Frances Pounder. But in saying this I am anticipating a little, for Belle retained her interest in the Rosas long enough to be one of those who helped move the little family to the little house which had been chosen for them in Shiloh.