Nancy Pembroke in Nova Scotia

It was one of those chilly, rainy days that sometimes come in early summer, when a grate fire is not only cheery but almost necessary. Mrs. Pembroke was embroidering at one side of the hearth, while she visited with the guest her daughter had brought home from college the preceding evening.

“It is too bad that Nancy had to leave you the very first thing,” observed Mrs. Pembroke, glancing at the girl who was sprawled in the big chair opposite her.

“Oh, I don’t mind; but I’m sorry about her tooth. She said it began to trouble her yesterday, and I guess she slept very little last night. I didn’t know about it, or I should have stayed awake with her.”

“Nancy certainly would not have wanted you to do that. So you slept well; did you?”

“Just like a log. Nan’s room is lovely; but I was so surprised to find twin beds in it. I had hoped that we would sleep together.”

“We think it is better for people to sleep alone; and Nan so often has someone here for the night, that I took out the big bed which used to be in there, and substituted the two singles; though it does crowd the room a bit.”

Mrs. Pembroke did not mention that the change had been a very recent one. When her daughter wrote for permission to bring home for the first two weeks of the summer vacation this singularly unattractive classmate, she immediately replied that if Nan were willing to have the girl share her room, she might invite her.

“What’s the idea?” Mr. Pembroke had inquired when he read the letter.

“A twofold one. In the first place, using the guest room makes a lot more work; and in the second, it is not unwise to let Nancy put up with a few things. She has always enjoyed all the privileges of an only child, which have naturally resulted in the development of numerous little faults——”

“I can’t see them,” interrupted her husband. “Nan’s one fine girl—_I_ think!”

“And I agree with you. I’m just as fond and proud of her as you are; but you must admit that she is over-impulsive. She jumps into something without thinking; and then when she gets into difficulties, someone has to help her out. I just want her to learn to consider all sides of a project before she undertakes it.”

“Sure, that’s all right; but what has it to do with this Kane girl who is coming here?” Mrs. Pembroke had smiled and patiently explained. Men were so slow to grasp an idea, sometimes!

“Nan, who evidently felt sorry for the girl in question—I understand she has been shunned by all the rest—suddenly decided to ask her here for a couple of weeks. That is all right, and I admire her for it; but I want her to carry out her good deed to the very end. If I put Emma in the guest room, and take her off Nan’s hands a great deal of the time, how is the experiment going to help our girl? Don’t you see the situation?”

“No,” Mr. Pembroke had replied bluntly, “I’m afraid I don’t; but as long as you do, and are satisfied, it’s all right with me.”

A couple of days before college closed, Mrs. Pembroke, who had been giving some serious thought to the matter, went downtown one morning and purchased twin beds, a new rug, and new curtains for her daughter’s room. A wave of gratification swept over her now as she recalled Nancy’s surprise, delight, and rapturous thanks. She had left Emma getting ready for bed, and had flown to her mother’s room to give vent to her enthusiasm which she had concealed from her guest.

Mrs. Pembroke was aroused from her reverie by a question from Emma.

“Jeanette comes here a lot; doesn’t she?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Has she always known Nancy?”

“Since they were little bits of tots. We moved here when Nancy was little more than a baby, and they went through grade and high school together. When they were graduated, Nancy did not know whether she wanted to go to college or not; so she planned to stay home with me a year, and try to decide. Jeanette was getting ready for Smith when Mr. Pembroke had to go West on business, to be away for a year. My brother, Dr. Donovan, persuaded me to go too, as I was not very well at the time, saying that Nancy could go to the college at Eastport where he lived. So it was decided; and Jeanette changed her plans, and went to Eastport too.

“My brother had to go abroad with a patient the following summer, and Nancy spent the time at Jeanette’s. They took a little trip up the Rideau Lakes; and later in the summer a friend of Mrs. Grant’s, a Miss Ashton, took them down the St. Lawrence and up the Saguenay. They stopped at Tadousac, Quebec, and Montreal, and had a wonderful time. In the fall, Nancy felt that she simply couldn’t go back to Eastport, with her uncle still away. You see, they had been very devoted to each other ever since Nan was a baby, and naturally they had seen a great deal of each other during Nancy’s Freshman year at Eastport. So she and Jeanette begged to go to Roxford. From there on, you know their story too.”

“But I thought that the summer after their Sophomore year they went to New Orleans to visit Nan’s uncle and aunt,” said Emma, frowning in a puzzled manner.

“They did. Dr. Donovan’s patient, Mr. Doyle, died shortly after they took him to Germany; and since his widow was ill from strain and shock, and my brother was taking a course at one of the medical schools, the two stayed on for a time. Some months later, they married, and the doctor had an offer of a position in a New Orleans hospital. So they settled there.”

“Oh, I see. And where are the girls going this summer? I haven’t heard Nancy say.” Emma had an insatiable curiosity, which she made no attempt to conceal.

“Miss Ashton and Madelon want them to go to Nova Scotia with them.”

“Madelon? Who is she?”

“A little French girl whom they met in Beaupre, and who came back to live with Miss Ashton in Boston, and go to high school. She had always wanted to continue her education in ‘the States,’ as she refers to this country, and since her foster parents (her own died when she was very young) did not need her, Miss Ashton invited her to return with them. She goes to high school in the morning, and takes charge of a doctor’s office afternoons and a couple of evenings each week.”

“I should like to see Nova Scotia,” observed Emma. “When are they going?”

“Their plans have not been fully worked out yet; so the exact date has not been set. But your summer is entirely taken up with invitations from your college mates; is it not?” asked Mrs. Pembroke, hastening to discourage any idea of her following the others. She had some Spartan theories regarding her daughter’s character development, but she did not want them to spoil a vacation trip.

“Y-e-s, but——”

“I think it is a very fine opportunity for you,” interrupted Mrs. Pembroke, “and one you should make the most of. It is good for all of us to share the home lives of others occasionally. We see how things are done, and get all kinds of new and beneficial ideas. While most of the girls whom you will visit are not especially wealthy, they are all very fine girls who know exactly what to do, and how to do it under all circumstances. Excuse me for being rather frank, Emma—I am speaking to you exactly as I should if you were Nancy; but since you have not had the same advantages of home life and training as they, why not observe closely the ways and customs of your hostesses? Many little personal habits and niceties you will probably want to adopt for your own.”

The suggestions were difficult to make, but Mrs. Pembroke presented them in so gentle and charming a manner, that a girl considerably more sensitive than Emma Kane could hardly have taken offense. She gave all her attention at this point to a difficult spray in the embroidery pattern, and Emma thought about the various girls whom she was to visit.

Nancy and Jeanette, with eight other girls of their class, had, during Junior year, formed a secret club whose object was charity of various kinds. When Nan and Janie had announced their intention of devoting part of their summer vacation to trying to “make over” Emma Kane, the other members of the club had each volunteered to entertain the girl for a week.

Emma had been unpopular all through her college course. Besides being unattractive, she was careless about her personal appearance, lacking in all the niceties of manner that seemed to come so naturally to the rest of the girls, and was always forcing herself upon people. She was naturally sociable, and apparently failed to realize why the other girls avoided her.

Early in their Junior year, she paid considerable attention to Nancy, who, acting on the advice of her friends, discouraged any intimacy. The matter rather troubled Nancy throughout the year; for she thought that something might be made of the girl, and that at least some effort ought to be made. Hence her invitation to Emma to spend the first week of the vacation at the Pembroke home.