I knew she would see how silly they were. Thanks to Julia and Amy, the time has come a little sooner even than I hoped, and the burial of ‘The Countess’ will be observed without any tears on Brenda’s part.”
It would be far from the truth to say that Brenda never again cared to read a trashy novel, or that her taste for the best reading was completely established by the reading club. But it is true that she never again read one of these trivial books with great pleasure, and she never went out of her way to get one of them. Moreover, she had begun to see the value of the better books that are real literature, and with her eyes opened in this way, it was plain enough that in the future she would be able to use her powers of discrimination. She was surprised herself that she took such delight in such books as “The Caxtons,” and “A Chance Acquaintance,” and some of the more serious things that came in her way,—an occasional volume of essays, or a biography. She found herself even ready to comply with a request that the principal of her school had made a week or two before the vacation began.
“I wish that every girl would bring me an account, written on four large pages of letter-size, describing the best book that she has read this summer. I am not going to ask simply for what would be called improving books. Fiction will answer as well, only, if you choose fiction, I hope that it will be something of real value, by an author whose work is literature.”
When Miss Crawdon had made this request, Brenda
