--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Carroll, Elsie C. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 20 number: 10 published: 1917-08 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Elsie C. Carroll, "The Little Gray Wren," *Improvement Era* 20, no. 10 (August 1917): 860–864.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera20010unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera20010unse start_page: 860 end_page: 864 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1917-08) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera20010unse publication_year: 1917 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1917, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Little Gray Wren The Little Gray Wren By Elsie C. Carroll Betty sank gratefully into the shadow of the huge fern which half filled the recess of the large window. She was hot and flushed and embarrassed. She was quite sure she had never felt so uncomfortably and out-of -place in her life before. Why had they insisted upon her coining? Why hadn't Grace told her how it would be? Yet she could not feel resentful toward her cousins. They were doing everything to make her brief visit pleasant. She had parted with Richard at the entrance hall of the palatial house. Of course he had supposed she understood where to go and what to do. But it was all so glittering and strange she had felt as if she were in a dream and had per- mitted herself to be escorted by footmen and maids through halls and stairs and corridors to the ladies' dressing room and back again to the door of the reception room. Of course she knew now that she should have waited there for Richard, but she didn't understand, and somehow she had got pushed into the crowd and carried down the receiving line. She was still conscious of the queer questioning coolness with which the hostess had pronounced her unfamiliar name, and she still burned with the memory of the expression of sur- prise and condescending disapproval which had followed her down the line. She felt that she should have explained, but there had been no opportunity. Her humiliation was unbear- able. She shrank farther within the shadow of the friendly fern, and watched the stream of sleek, black-coated men and gorge- ously gowned women pass down the line. There was the mur- mur of many low pleasant voices, blended with little ripples of subdued laughter as the women gathered in little groups about the room, greeting each other with nods and smiles, and as the men passed from group to group to lavish time-worn compli- ments. Betty sat apart from them all, an on-looker. She was very grateful indeed that no one seemed to notice her, once she had escaped the receiving committee. Her face was still flushed and she knew the tears were near the surface. She was smothered bv a great wave of homesickness, the first she had felt since leaving the dingy little Norrisville station for her mission three weeks before. If the musical world were like this she need not THE LITTLE GRAY WREN 861 feel sorry she had had to sacrifice the privilege of coming into it. There was Cousin Richard looking for her now. He had just come into the room and everywhere he was greeted with Warm smiles and pleasant words which revealed his popularity. Betty thought with a sense of disgust how different her own re- ception would have been if she had come in with her popular cousin. She was almost glad for her blunder. She hated in- sincerity. If she could not be recognized for her own merit she would rather never be recognized at all. But. why had those finely gowned ladies treated her with such patronizing superi- ority even if she was a blundering stranger? That still puz- zled her. Ever since Cousin Richard's western tour a year ago when he had heard her sing and had predicted a future for her, Betty bad dreamed of the time she would take her place in the musical world of which she was now getting her first glimpse, but was not entering. It is true that after Richard's return home he and his wife had written offering to give Betty a chance to develop her talent. She had felt as if heaven itself had fallen into her lap at this unlocked for good fortune. Her parents were grate- ftil for the opportunity extended to her also and preparations were begun for her departure to the eastern city. Then two days before she was to leave, her mother had met with a serious accident which had sent her to the hospital for long weeks. Betty had uncomplainingly given up her trip and had assumed the management of the home. After her mother's recovery they began to talk of her music again. Then had come the letter from the Church offices, ask- ing her to go on a mission. With the same cheerfulness with which she had sacrificed her personal ambitions for her family, she now responded to her Church. She had been assigned to the Eastern States Mission and was on her way to her field of labor now. Her route had brought her through her cousin's city and she had arranged to stop off for a short visit with Richard and Grace. They were both greatly disappointed with her present plans and did not fail to tell her so, nor to use every argument they could think of to persuade her to remain with them and go on with her music instead of wasting her time, as they expressed it, on a mission. Betty promised them she would come to them when she had earned her honorable release from the work she had been called to do, but not before. When her relatives were convinced that their arguments were useless they had devoted themselves to making her brief visit as pleasant and profitable as possible. 862 IMPROVEMENT ERA They had talked of this musical ever since her arrival and of the pleasure she would get from it. It was the opening number of the series of yearly concerts given by the Phila- delphia Opera league, and Professor Arthurs of the Metropol- itan Concert Company was to be the artist of the evening. The great tenor was a former teacher of Richard's and Betty had heard a great deal about him. Naturally she had looked forward to the evening with a great deal of pleasant anticipation. These opening sessions of the League were al- ways most interesting Richard had assured her, aside from the pleasure of listening to a great master. "You see," he had explained, "at the opening concert, members of the League art given the privilege of presenting some of their best pupils or proteges or undeveloped stars they have discovered during the year. It is a sort of debut, you see, for young amateurs and means a good deal to any one who happens to be presented." He named a number of prominent artists who had first been heard of in the musical world at one of these concerts. "Now, Betty," he had urged half in earnest, "if you would only give up this foolish church business of yours, I'd present you to the club tomorrow evening and your career would be begun." "Wait two years," Betty had laughed, but now as she sat miserably in the shadowy corner she wondered how she had ever dreamed that she could make her way in a place like this. On the afternoon of the concert evening Grace had been forced to bed with a wild headache, but had insisted upon Richard's bringing Betty to the Musical. Betty wished over and over she were home with Grace. She could still see Richard looking for her, but she hoped he would not see her. He would want her to meet people. She felt she could not bear the cool formal condescension of those women again. What was wrong with her anyhow? She had always thought she had a knack for making friends. The room was becoming more crowded. A great many were seated in cozy groups about the big room, while others stood in little crowds laughing and chatting. Gradually a little group had formed almost directly in front of Betty. None of them had noticed her, and she was grateful for the protection they gave her. Presently their words began to penetrate through the gray wall of misery which had shut everything out from her senses. "Oh, by the way, Olivia, do you know who that queer little thing was who came in just behind you? Betty looked up. She remembered the pretty brunette who had passed down the receiving line ahead of her. "Why, no," the girl laughed. "I wondered myself. Did THE LITTLE GRAY WREN 863 you get the style of her evening gown?" They both laughed. Betty's cheeks burned. So it was her dress that made her so out of place here. Her eyes glanced over the groups of gleam- ing white shoulders, bare, tapering arms and snowy bosoms above low cut bodices. The flush on her face deepened. Well, at any rate she was glad she was not dressed as they were. She wondered how a woman could leave her own room dressed as these women were. To be sure she knew that Norrisville was an old-fashioned little village, but she was glad for some of its old-fashioned ideals. There she had been taught that the beauty of a woman's body is a treasure too sacred to be exposed to the eyes of the world. She fell to wondering vaguely, if it could be possible that she and her people were the only ones who held such notions; that she, because she chose to cover her body, must be a laughing-stock to other people. The girls in front of her went on in reckless merriment. Another one spoke up: "I saw her, too. You mean the little Quaker, don't you? I wondered if she thought this was a character ball?" There was another laugh. Then the first girl spoke again. "She didn't remind me of a Quaker, though of course that fits. But she looks for all the world like a little gray wren who had her nest in our eaves this summer." Then a masculine voice broke into the conversation. "A little gray wren?" he asked. "Yes, for all the world. Really, Don, you must see her. She's perfectly ridiculous." "I don't see why she need be," the man's voice protested. "That is, I don't see why a wren would be out of place in a gathering of song-birds. Did it never occur to you that one lit- tle gray wren makes more real music for the world than all the peacocks put together? Besides I did see the lady in question, and as far as I'm any judge of costumes, she struck me as being the on/y decently dressed woman in the room." As the young man turned and walked away to escape the menacing looks and words of his sister and her friends, his eye fell upon Betty. He was instantly embarrassed, but he gave her one quick, friendly smile which she never forgot. Just then Richard espied her and hurried to her corner. "Why, Betty, how did I lose you? I've been looking every- where. There are a lot of people I want you to meet. But there comes Profeseor Arthurs, so we shall have to wait until after the program." Betty was grateful for the flutter of excitement which kept even her cousin's eyes from her. She wouldn't have him know for anything what she had suffered. During the hour that followed the arrival of the great mas- 864 IMPROVEMENT ERA ter Betty forgot her misery and sat entranced, drinking in the deep, rich tones which filled the room. After all, she told her- self, she was glad she was there. Then the president of the league announced that a number of members were ready to present students of unusual promise. There were two solos following, the first by a young man with a rich baritone voice, and the other by a young lady with sweet contralto. Both numbers were received with appreciative ap- plause. The president arose again and Betty was electrified to hear her own name called out. "Miss Elizabeth Marshall is presented by Professor Richard Pemberton." There was an unusual hush of expectancy; partly due to Richard's popularity, and partly because Betty's name was unknown to them. Betty's head was swimming. She looked at her cousin. Surely she had been mistaken. But Richard's face did not re- assure her. He was smiling encouragingly. "Come on, Betty. I decided to show them what I had found even if I can't keep you now," he whispered. "Oh, but I can't," the girl protested. "Of course, you can. Come. Sing that little swallow song you sang for me last night." Betty looked helplessly over the sea of strange faces who were now regarding her in a new light. From across the room she met the gray eyes of the young man who had championed her earlier in the evening. He was smiling at her again in that friendly way he had done when he discovered her there in the corner. His words sounded again in her ear. "One little gray wren makes more real music for the world than all the pea- cocks put together." She felt a sudden desire that he should not be disappointed in her, figuratively or otherwise. Mechan- ically she left her chair and followed her cousin across to the piano. Richard played the air and she began the song. She forgot the strange faces and tried to imagine she was a real little gray wren pouring forth the melody of her golden soul to the world. She sat down amid a sincere burst of applause and in a moment she was surrounded by the friends of her cousin eager to extend congratulations and the hand of fellowship. The ovation meant nothing to Betty, however, in the light of her earlier experience of the evening. But she was glad when the young man with the smiling gray eyes drew near, to be presented. His name was Mr. Lawrence and her cousin ad- dressed him as Don. He took a seat beside Betty and talked to her all during the rest of the evening, which time was given over to conversation and refreshments.