fashion. Moreover, there was a little air of patronage in her tone that was novel to Brenda. In spite of the girl’s words, Brenda felt that she did consider the question a rudeness, and she found herself in the unusual position of wishing to apologize still further.
“I will get the pump for you,” said the other girl, “if you will excuse me for a minute.”
Had she been the hostess at a party, her manner could hardly have been more polite and formal. Left alone for a moment, Brenda looked with considerable interest at the house into which the other girl had just gone. It was of the same homely style as several other houses along the road. They had evidently been built at about the same time. They stood with an end to the street, with no bay windows or piazzas to soften their plain outlines. They were all painted a rather dingy brown, and in passing, Brenda had noticed that one or two of them seemed rather the worse for wear, with an outside window-blind missing here and there, or a pane of glass broken, or with a few palings broken from the fence. But the house where the strange girl lived was different from the others in several respects. Although it was of the same dingy brown as the others, the front door had evidently had a recent coat of paint of dark-green. This, with a brass knocker, made it look quite like a city door. The window-blinds, too, had been freshly painted dark-green, and so had the narrow strip of fence running across the front. Moreover, the little bit of lawn about the house was closely cut, and at one side there was a small circular bed, filled
