During all these weeks Brenda had been no less interested than the younger girls in the question of what should be done for Cuba. Washington had become the centre of the world for her in the strongest sense of the word, and evidently for the time it was the centre of interest for the whole country. Arthur's letters to her continued rather brief. He spoke of being overworked, and Belle in writing rarely failed to say that she had seen him at this or that social function, and almost as often she mentioned how popular he was. Brenda at last wrote one or two brief notes to Arthur, asking him to return for a dinner that she was giving before Lent; but he took no notice of these missives, at least he did not write to her until Lent itself was half over, and then he made a simple little reference to her request with a mere "I was sorry that I could not do what you wished, but you must have known that I could not before you wrote." Then Brenda came to the point of deciding that she would never write to him again, and she threw herself into the work at the Mansion with much more zeal than Julia had ever expected from her. She was far less cheerful than the Brenda of old. It was not merely because she could not have her own way, but rather that she felt the shadow of the impending war cloud hanging over the country. Every Thursday she assisted Agnes at the informal studio tea, and this was really her only amusement, and in the early spring the conversation around the tea-table hovered between the two subjects,--the prospect of war and the correct costume for the Festival. The Artists' Festival was an institution that the artists of the city planned and enjoyed with the assistance of their friends. Each year those who were invited were asked to appear in costumes suited to a chosen period, the range of which might be several hundred years, but within the limits of time and place each costume had to be artistically correct, and meet the approval of the costume committee. This was to be Brenda's first experience of the Festival, and earlier in the season, when she and Arthur had talked about it, she had planned a certain style of fourteenth-century costume, and Arthur was to go as her page. Ralph had selected the plates, and though the time was then far off, they had talked very definitely of what they should expect from the Festival. But now-- Brenda decided to make a final test of Arthur. She would remind him of the approaching Artists' Festival. "I shall be mortified to death," she had said to Agnes, "if Arthur does not return in season for it." "Oh, I fear that he cannot, Brenda, from what he writes Ralph; I should judge that he has work enough to keep him busy all the spring." "Well, it would be nothing for him to come here for two or three days and then return to Washington; he used to be so fond of travelling." "You might write," responded Agnes. "Perhaps he may come."