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- float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -/* DIV */ -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -<title>THE GIRLS OF CHEQUERTREES</title> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="The Girls of Chequertrees" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Marion St John Webb" /> -<meta name="MARCREL.ill" content="Percy Tarrant" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2014-11-26" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1918" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="The Girls of Chequertrees" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="47471" /> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> - -<link rel="schema.DCTERMS" href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" /> -<link rel="schema.MARCREL" href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators/" /> -<meta content="The Girls of Chequertrees" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="/home/ajhaines/girls/girls.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2014-11-26T22:26:25.509826+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47471" /> -<meta content="Marion St John Webb" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="Percy Tarrant" name="MARCREL.ill" /> -<meta content="2014-11-26" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="Ebookmaker 0.4.0a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="the-girls-of-chequertrees"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">THE GIRLS OF CHEQUERTREES</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> included with -this ebook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>. If you -are not located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws -of the country where you are located before using this ebook.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: The Girls of Chequertrees -<br /> -<br />Author: Marion St John Webb -<br /> -<br />Release Date: November 26, 2014 [EBook #47471] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE GIRLS OF CHEQUERTREES</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 84%" id="figure-41"> -<span id="pamela-read-the-signature-of-beryl-s-mother-through-a-blur-of-tears"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="PAMELA READ THE SIGNATURE OF BERYL'S MOTHER THROUGH A BLUR OF TEARS (*P.* 120)" src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">PAMELA READ THE SIGNATURE OF BERYL'S MOTHER THROUGH A BLUR OF TEARS (</span><em class="italics">P.</em><span class="italics"> </span><a class="italics reference internal" href="#id1">120</a><span class="italics">)</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold xx-large">THE GIRLS OF -<br />CHEQUERTREES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">BY</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">MARION ST JOHN WEBB</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="small">AUTHOR OF -<br />'THE LITTLEST ONE' 'THE LITTLEST ONE AGAIN' 'KNOCK THREE TIMES' -<br />'THE HOUSE WITH THE TWISTING PASSAGE' -<br />ETC.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">ILLUSTRATED BY -<br />PERCY TARRANT</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">GEORGE G. HARRAP & CO. LTD. -<br />LONDON CALCUTTA SYDNEY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">First published September 1918 -<br />by GEORGE G. HARRAP & CO. LTD. -<br />39-41 Parker Street, Kingsway, London, W.C.2 -<br />Reprinted February 1923</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics small">Printed in Great Britain by Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CONTENTS</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">CHAPTER</span></p> -<ol class="upperroman simple"> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-window-opposite">THE WINDOW OPPOSITE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#pamela-receives-a-strange-invitation">PAMELA RECEIVES A STRANGE INVITATION</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#beryl">BERYL</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-room-with-the-locked-door">THE ROOM WITH THE LOCKED DOOR</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#making-plans">MAKING PLANS</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#millicent-jackson-gives-some-information">MILLICENT JACKSON GIVES SOME INFORMATION</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#beryl-goes-through-an-ordeal">BERYL GOES THROUGH AN ORDEAL</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#which-concerns-a-visit-to-inchmoor-and-a-woman-with-a-limp">WHICH CONCERNS A VISIT TO INCHMOOR AND A WOMAN WITH A LIMP</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#isobel-makes-trouble">ISOBEL MAKES TROUBLE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#pamela-befriends-beryl-and-meets-elizabeth-bagg">PAMELA BEFRIENDS BERYL AND MEETS ELIZABETH BAGG</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-wishing-well">THE WISHING WELL</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-which-elizabeth-bagg-paints-a-picture-and-isobel-hears-some-pleasant-news">IN WHICH ELIZABETH BAGG PAINTS A PICTURE AND ISOBEL HEARS SOME PLEASANT NEWS</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#mr-joseph-sigglesthorne-forgets-the-date">MR JOSEPH SIGGLESTHORNE FORGETS THE DATE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#caroline-makes-a-discovery">CAROLINE MAKES A DISCOVERY</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#about-a-bazaar-and-a-meeting-in-the-ruined-windmill">ABOUT A BAZAAR AND A MEETING IN THE RUINED WINDMILL</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#pamela-s-wish-comes-true">PAMELA'S WISH COMES TRUE</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#in-which-old-silas-laughs-and-isobel-dances">IN WHICH OLD SILAS LAUGHS AND ISOBEL DANCES</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#the-door-is-unlocked">THE DOOR IS UNLOCKED</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#beryl-confesses">BERYL CONFESSES</a></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-new-beginning">A NEW BEGINNING</a></p> -</li> -</ol> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">ILLUSTRATIONS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#pamela-read-the-signature-of-beryl-s-mother-through-a-blur-of-tears">PAMELA READ THE SIGNATURE OF BERYL'S MOTHER THROUGH A BLUR OF TEARS</a><span> </span><em class="italics">Frontispiece</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#on-the-first-floor-landing-pamela-pointed-out-the-locked-door">ON THE FIRST FLOOR LANDING PAMELA POINTED OUT THE LOCKED DOOR</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-woman-who-frowned-and-put-her-forefinger-to-her-lips">A WOMAN WHO FROWNED AND PUT HER FOREFINGER TO HER LIPS</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference internal" href="#a-pailful-of-garden-rubbish-descended-in-a-shower">A PAILFUL OF GARDEN RUBBISH DESCENDED IN A SHOWER</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-window-opposite"><span class="bold x-large">THE GIRLS OF CHEQUERTREES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER I</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE WINDOW OPPOSITE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On a cold, damp January evening a woman -sat in the dusk of a fire-lit room gazing -through the window. For half an hour -she had been sitting there fidgeting impatiently -with her hands and feet every few minutes, but -never moving from the position she had taken up -by the window. Her expectant gaze was centred on -the outline of a house that stood on the opposite -side of the village green at Barrowfield.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From the window, or for the matter of that from -the green or the road that encircled the green, little -could be seen of the house, as the high ivy-topped -walls which surrounded the garden guarded it jealously -from prying eyes. It was only through the tall -iron-rail gate set into an arch in the stone wall that -you could ascertain that the house was flat-fronted -and square, a house entirely covered with ivy, out -from whose dark, rustling leaves many windows -peered like deep-set eyes. A broad gravel path -swept from the gate to a flight of white steps that -led up to the front door. The garden, stretching -away on either side of the path, appeared to be -thick and bushy with shrubs and tall old trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This much the woman at the window had observed -from the gate, and now she was sitting—waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A little breeze sprang up and scurried through -the ivy leaves as if it and they were whispering -together about something. Although the house -seemed silent, it was not deserted, for presently, as -it grew darker, a light appeared in one of the lower -windows and a blind was drawn—a red blind -through which the light glowed, seeming to -increase in strength as the house gradually faded -into the dusk and was lost to sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman who was watching sighed and nervously -bit the nail of her thumb.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's where she is," she muttered to herself, -gazing at the red blind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At that moment the sound of wheels and jingling -bells became audible, and a light flickered at -the top of the main road that led down to the -village from the station. The woman frowned and -strained her eyes toward the dancing light on the -road. It was the station cab approaching, jogging -along at its usual pace, slowly but surely, with stout -old Tom Bagg, the driver, snugly ensconced on the -box-seat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outside the gate of the ivy-covered house the -cab came to a stand-still, and a young girl alighted. -She was plainly visible as she paused beneath the -street lamp outside the gate before entering the -dark garden, followed by Tom Bagg much beladen -and struggling with boxes. In a few minutes the -old cabman came out again, and the cab jogged -away back to the station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman who had watched all this intently -then moved away from the window, and, limping -slightly as she walked, made her way to the fire. -Crouching down on the hearth she poked the fire -into a blaze and warmed her cold hands—her eyes -fixed broodingly on the leaping flames. After a -while she pulled a chair toward her and sank into -it—still with her eyes on the fire, lost in thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was aroused from her reverie by the sound -of wheels and jingling bells again, heralding the -return of the cab. Instantly she got up, limped -back to the window, and peered out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once more the cab stopped at the gate of the -ivy-covered house, and this time two girls got out -and passed through the garden gate, followed by -Tom Bagg still more beladen and struggling beneath -boxes and parcels and travelling rugs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman watched until old Tom Bagg had -departed again, then she gave an odd, short laugh, -and for a while stared gloomily out at the closed -iron-rail gate in the wall opposite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently she said to herself, "Well—now we -shall see!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she pulled down her blind.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="pamela-receives-a-strange-invitation"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER II</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PAMELA RECEIVES A STRANGE INVITATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A few days before the incident occurred -which is recorded in the previous chapter, -Pamela Heath was standing at the dining-room -window of her home in Oldminster (a town -about forty miles from Barrowfield). Pamela, like -the woman who sat watching the ivy-covered house, -was also gazing through a window—but on to a -very different scene: morning, a bright January -morning, and a busy stream of people passing up -and down the sunny street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was a tall, slim girl, about sixteen years -old; she was very pleasant to look at with her -curly, chestnut-coloured hair, tied at her neck with -a brown ribbon bow, and her brown eyes and clear -complexion, which were emphasized by the dark -green dress she was wearing. Strictly speaking -Pamela would not have been called pretty—in the -sense that regular features stand for prettiness; -her nose was a tiny bit square at the tip, and the -distance from her nose to her upper lip was a trifle -more than beauty experts would allow, and her -mouth was a little too wide for prettiness. But -those who met Pamela for the first time found her -expression of frank good-humour far more attractive -than mere prettiness. And when she was in one -of her 'beamy' moods (as her brother Michael used -to call them)—that is, when she was vivaciously -talking, and laughing, and keenly interested in -making other people enjoy themselves—then she -was irresistible. However grudgingly you -admitted it, you found you </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> to confess to yourself -that you were enjoying yourself—when Pamela was -'beamy.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This sunny Saturday morning when we first see -Pamela she stands drumming on the window-pane -with her fingers, watching for Michael to come -round the corner of the street from the post-office, -where he has been to post their father's Saturday -morning letters. Michael is her elder brother—a -year older than Pamela—and the two are great -chums. There are two sisters and another brother -younger than Pamela, but they will be introduced -by and by, as Pamela is not thinking of them at -the moment; she is thinking of Michael, and wishing -he would hurry up so that they might start off -on their sketching expedition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They were both fond of sketching, and used to -tramp out on Saturday mornings with their sketch-blocks -and pencils (and some sandwiches and fruit -in a satchel) and try to picture some of the beautiful -scenery outside Oldminster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was to be no sketching for either of -them this morning. For on his way to the house -where Pamela lived was a little old man, with a -very high bald forehead, and a top hat, and a shiny -black coat—and the news he was bringing was to -drive all thoughts of sketching from their minds -for some time to come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long afterward Pamela remembered every detail -of this Saturday morning, all the little familiar -sounds going on in the house—the clatter of dishes -downstairs; the murmur of Mother's and Doris's -voices in the hall, and John's high, childish tones -asking them some question—and then their -laughing at him. Father's typewriter could be heard -faintly clicking away in the study, and in the -drawing-room Olive was playing the only tune -she knew on the piano. The butcher's cart came -clattering down the street and pulled up next door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela stopped drumming on the window and, -pushing it open, leant out to see if Michael was -coming. Then it was she caught sight of a rather -round-shouldered old man in a top hat hurrying -down the street, stopping every other second to -peer closely at the numbers on the gates. When -he reached Pamela's gate he not only stopped and -looked at the number but, straightening himself -up, he pushed the gate open and came in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela withdrew her head hastily and stepped -back into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whoever can this be?" she thought. "He -looks rather shabby, poor soul—I wonder if he's -come begging or trying to sell machine needles."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the little old man's business had nothing to -do with either of these things, as Pamela was soon -to find out. A few minutes later she found herself -in her father's study being introduced to Mr Joseph -Sigglesthorne, whose mild blue eyes and nervous -manner ill accorded with the businesslike news -which he was endeavouring to convey. Mr and -Mrs Heath and Pamela sat facing the nervous little -man, who had removed his top hat of course, and -now exposed the high bald forehead which gave -him, so he fancied, a slight resemblance to Shakespeare. -Slight though it was, this resemblance gave -Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne a considerable amount of -happiness; it always made him feel more important -directly he took his hat off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I ought to say, first of all," began Mr -Sigglesthorne, producing a pair of spectacles from -his coat pocket and commencing to polish them -nervously with his handkerchief, "that I—that I -am—you will excuse me, sir, </span><em class="italics">and</em><span> madam," he turned -to Mr and Mrs Heath and inclined his head, "that—I -was going to say, I have the honour to be a kind -of distant relation of a distant relation of yours." -He rubbed the glasses a little quicker. "You -remember Miss Emily Crabingway, doubtless. The -lady is, if I am not mistaken, a fourth cousin -to—to madam here?" He inclined his head again -toward Mrs Heath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Emily Crabingway! Why, yes," said Mrs -Heath. "But I haven't seen her for years—quite -twelve years I should think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So she says, madam, so she says," continued -Mr Sigglesthorne. "Well—I am her second cousin -once removed, if I may say so—and she has -entrusted me with a little—er—a little transaction—I -mean proposal, or rather suggestion—er—with -regard to your daughter Pamela." Mr -Sigglesthorne was still polishing his glasses energetically. -"Miss Emily Crabingway is obliged to go up to -Scotland—on business. That was all I had to tell -you about that part, I believe—yes, that's correct—on -</span><em class="italics">business</em><span>, she said. She will be away for six -months..." He hesitated, his eyes on the top -of the window curtains behind Mr Heath's head. -"Yes—six months—and during that time she -wants to know if Miss Pamela will go and live at -her house in Barrowfield, and look after it for -her—and—" he went on, emphasizing each word -as if repeating a lesson, "certain conditions being -undertaken by Miss Pamela, and fulfilled -properly—Miss Crabingway will—er—bestow upon the -young lady a sum of—if I may say so—a not -inconsiderable sum—er—in short, fifty pounds." Mr -Sigglesthorne removed his gaze from the top of -the curtains to Mr Heath's boots, which he appeared -to study intently for a space.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr and Mrs Heath exchanged surprised glances, -but Pamela was looking wonderingly at Mr Sigglesthorne's -magnificent forehead, and did not move. -Before any of them could speak Mr Sigglesthorne -resumed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If Miss Pamela agrees to accept the offer she -would be required to sign this paper, promising to -obey certain instructions of Miss Crabingway's; -but doubtless you would like to read it—I have it -here in my pocket."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr Sigglesthorne stopped polishing his glasses, -and resting them on the top of his hat, which lay -on a chair beside him, he felt in his coat pocket. -But his memory had played him false; it was the -wrong pocket. He turned the contents out, but -not finding what he sought he tried another pocket, -fumbling with nervous, clumsy fingers, and -producing various papers and envelopes and odd bits -of string. The longer he searched the more nervous -he got. "Tut! tut!" he kept saying to himself. -"But how careless of me! Tut! tut! Exceedingly -annoying!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs Heath tried to ease the situation by -murmuring something polite, but Pamela was suddenly -seized with an intense desire to start laughing. Mr -Sigglesthorne looked so funny and perplexed, and -he kept dropping his papers on the floor in his -nervousness, and once he knocked his hat down, -and the glasses too. Pamela, almost choking with -the effort of keeping her face straight, was glad -of the opportunity of rescuing the hat and placing -it back on the chair; she was thankful to be able -to do anything at all instead of sitting still and -trying to keep serious. Mr Sigglesthorne's apologies -and thanks for his hat were profuse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, after going through five pockets, Mr -Sigglesthorne found what he wanted, to -everybody's relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perhaps I should mention," he said, as he -handed an envelope across to Pamela, "that Miss -Crabingway is inviting three other young -girls—somewhere about Miss Pamela's age—to stay at -her house also—but you will see about that, though, -in the letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela opened the envelope and spread out the -sheet of paper it contained so that her mother and -father could read it at the same time. It was a -sheet of foolscap paper covered with black, spiky -handwriting, writing which Mrs Heath recognized -as Miss Emily Crabingway's from the Christmas -card she received from her every year, the -interchange of Christmas cards being the only -communication she had held with this distant cousin -of hers for the last twelve years.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Read it aloud, Pamela," said her father. So -Pamela read the following letter:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>CHEQUERTREES,</span></dt> -<dd><dl class="docutils first last"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>BARROWFIELD,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><em class="italics">January 3rd</em></p> -</dd> -</dl> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>DEAR PAMELA,</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Although I have not seen you since you were -four years old, I have a fancy that I should like you to -come to Barrowfield and look after my house and its -inmates while I am away on business....</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Here Mr Sigglesthorne smiled and nodded his -head vigorously, and leaning back in his chair -began to polish his glasses again.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>... I shall be away for six months, and during that -time—if you agree to come—you must promise to -obey the following instructions. You will please sign -your name under them and give the paper to Mr -Sigglesthorne, who is acting for me in this matter, as -I am unable to come and visit you myself owing to my -urgent call from home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These are the instructions to be obeyed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>1. While you are staying under my roof you are not -to visit, nor invite to the house, any relatives -whatsoever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>2. No letters are to be written home, but one -postcard every month may be sent; and you may -only receive post-cards, no letters, from your -relatives—and then only one card each month.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>3. On no account may you try to open the locked-up -room at the end of the first floor landing. -Nor may you peer through the keyhole.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A faint chuckle escaped Mr Sigglesthorne, a -fleeting, scarcely audible chuckle which he suffocated -immediately. There was a blank space after the -'instructions' for Pamela to sign her name; and -then a few more lines ended the letter.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I am leaving my two trusted servants, Martha and -Ellen, to cook, and clean the house. When I return -at the end of six months I will hand over to -you—providing you have not broken any of the above -conditions—the sum of £50, which is deposited -meanwhile with my banker. (Enclosed you will find -banker's guarantee for same.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>I am likewise offering the same sum of money to -three other girls who are being asked to come and -stay at my house, and to whom I want you to act -as hostess. The girls' names are: Beryl Cranswick, -Isobel Prior, and Caroline Weston.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Send me a wire to reach me by Saturday evening -saying whether you accept this invitation or not. If -you accept you must arrive at Barrowfield not later -than Tuesday next.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Trusting you will be sensible and wire 'yes,'</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<dl class="docutils"> -<dt class="noindent"><span>Yours sincerely,</span></dt> -<dd><p class="first last noindent pfirst"><span>EMILY CRABINGWAY</span></p> -</dd> -</dl> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was silence for a few moments when Pamela -finished reading. She handed the banker's guarantee -across to her father, who took it without a -word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" queried Mr Sigglesthorne, polishing -nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said Mrs Heath, "I think we must -have a little time to consider the matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why does Miss Crabingway want to cut me -off from you all like that, Mother, for six whole -months?" burst out Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs Heath shook her head and looked across -at Mr Sigglesthorne, who, catching her inquiring -glance, shook his head also.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know no more than I have told you, madam," -he said. "Miss Crabingway sent for me—she has -been very good to me occasionally, when I have -been temporarily embarrassed for money—if you -will excuse my introducing such a subject—and -asked me to go and see the parents of the young -ladies she wished to invite, and present them -personally with her letter and instructions. I have -already seen one of the young ladies——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is she willing to come—the one you've -seen?" asked Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is going to make up her mind and wire -to-day to Miss Crabingway, and if she wires 'yes' -she will post on to me the paper of instructions, -duly signed, to my address by Monday morning." Mr -Sigglesthorne stood up and began gathering -his belongings together preparatory to taking his -leave. "I will leave you my address; will you -kindly send me your paper, if you decide to accept? -Unfortunately, you have very little time to -consider the matter—only a few hours—as Miss -Crabingway is expecting your wire this evening.... -Now is there anything more you would like to ask -me, madam, or sir?" he asked politely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But although Mrs Heath put one or two anxious -questions, he could throw no further light on the -matter than before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think—if you will forgive my saying so—that -it is just a whim—a fancy on Miss Crabingway's -part. I feel sure your daughter will be well -cared for at Barrowfield—and if she does not -like it (although I suppose I shouldn't say this) -she can always come home—and forfeit the fifty -pounds, can't she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that's true," said Mrs Heath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm, h'm ... yes—anyway, we can talk the -matter over together and wire by this afternoon," -said Mr Heath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is my address," said Mr Sigglesthorne, -handing Pamela a thumbed and dog-eared visiting-card -on which was printed: "Joseph Sigglesthorne, -Fig Tree Court, Inner Temple, London." "And -now, if you will kindly excuse me, I must hurry -away, as I have other visits to pay this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs Heath invited him to stay and have some -refreshment before he went, but he declined, -saying that he must lose no time in informing the other -young ladies of Miss Crabingway's invitation. So -shaking hands all round he departed, leaving them -not a little perplexed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No sooner was he gone than Doris and Michael -burst into the study, anxious to know what the -queer little old man's business with Pamela could -be. They were soon told all about it, and read -Miss Crabingway's letter with much curiosity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Doris, who was a year younger than Pamela, -was as unlike her sister in looks as she was in -temperament. Doris was pale, very pale, with very -fair hair and eyelashes, and light blue eyes. She -was inclined to be pessimistic and over-anxious -about most things, and lived up to this reputation -on the present occasion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Michael, with handsome features, an infectious -laugh, and chestnut-coloured hair (like Pamela's), -was nothing if not optimistic; he and Pamela -were always getting sighed over by Doris because -of the levity shown by them over things which -Doris considered "too important to be laughed -at." But to-day Michael's optimism seemed to -have suddenly deserted him, and he put down Miss -Crabingway's letter in silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was watching his face anxiously. "What -do you think about it, Michael?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know. I suppose it's all right. What -do you think about it yourself, Pam?" he said. -("Six whole months! And only a few miserable -post-cards! Whatever was old Miss Crabingway -thinking of!" said Michael to himself.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After all, it's a very simple matter," said Mr -Heath. "Pamela to look after Miss Crabingway's -house for six months. There's nothing in that. -Six months' rest from her studies won't harm her, -and she can keep up her sketching and take some -books with her.... It'll be quite a holiday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's only those restrictions about not being -allowed to see any of us—and—and that curious -mention of a locked door..." said Mother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, yes! I don't like the sound of that at all," -said Doris, shaking her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come now—it may be only her private and -personal belongings she's put in that room," said -Mr Heath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It </span><em class="italics">might</em><span> be, of course," said Doris, in a tone -that implied that nothing was more unlikely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course that must be it," continued Mr Heath -(from whom Michael and Pamela inherited their -optimism). "Miss Crabingway wouldn't want all -those strange girls upsetting her personal things.... -And remember the fifty pounds—it'll be most -useful for Pamela. But still, you must decide -yourself, Pamela, what you would rather do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I </span><em class="italics">don't</em><span> want to go—and I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span>—if you know -what I mean," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They understood what she meant. But the -matter had to be decided immediately, and so they -all sat down and began to discuss it from each and -every point of view, until at length, after much -hesitation, Pamela made up her mind to accept -Miss Crabingway's invitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later in the day she and Michael walked round -to the post-office and sent off the wire to -Barrowfield; and Pamela also sent the signed paper off -to Mr Sigglesthorne.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the next few days Pamela lived in a state -of excited rush and hurry. There seemed so much -to be done, so many friends to see and say -good-bye to; so many clothes to get ready and pack; -so much shopping to do; and then there were a -hundred and one odd jobs that she meant to attend -to before she went away, and never got time to see -to any of them after all. Everybody seemed very -kind and anxious to help her as much as they could. -Even John and twelve-year-old Olive begged to be -allowed to help, and proposed that they should -take a hand at packing Pamela's trunk. Olive, -indeed, could not be persuaded that her help was -not needed until she had been pacified with the -gift of Pamela's glove-box and a scent satchet to -keep for herself. That was always the easiest -way to divert Olive's ambitions—make her a -present of something you didn't want and she quickly -forgot what she had been clamouring for a few -minutes earlier. John, who was two years younger -than Olive, was the 'baby' of the family in name -only. John was sturdy, noisy, and emphatic in -all he said and did—and was not so easily put off -with gifts. He would accept the gift and then go -on asking for the other thing as well. Fortunately -he was not so insistent on helping to pack as on -being allowed to sit on the lid of the trunk to squash -it down when it was full and about to be locked. -This little matter was easily arranged, and when -everything was quite ready he was called in, asked -to be so obliging as to cast his weight on to the top -of the trunk—which he did with great alacrity—and -the trunk was locked in triumph.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the Monday night Mother came into Pamela's -bedroom and wished her an extra good-night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be sure to come home if you are unhappy, -dear. Or if you are ill or anything—let me -know—and bother the old fifty pounds," said -Mother. "Promise me, Pamela—or I shall be so -unhappy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Pamela promised. "But I'm sure to be all -right, Mother, and you're not to worry about me -at all, dear. But do take care of yourselves, all -of you, till I come back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela said good night quite cheerfully, but -after her mother had gone downstairs again she -found that she did not feel cheerful a bit. She -began to think things like "This is the last time -I shall sleep in my own little room," and "This is -the last time I shall hear Michael whistling on -his way upstairs," until she made herself cry. -Then she scolded herself for being so silly, and fell -asleep.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="beryl"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER III</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">BERYL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Pamela alighted at Barrowfield -station on the Tuesday afternoon -daylight was beginning to fade and a fine -drizzling rain had set in. She gazed round the -deserted platform, and gave a shiver as a chilly -little breeze rustled past her, stirring the loose bits -of paper on the stone paving and making the -half-closed door of the General Waiting Room creak -dismally as it pushed it farther open. Pamela -had been sitting for an hour and a half in the train, -and she felt cold and stiff and suddenly depressed. -She was the only passenger to get out at Barrowfield, -and the only living soul about the place as -far as she could see was a porter, who now came -strolling down the platform and took charge of her -luggage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where to, miss?" inquired the porter; and -his voice at once reminded Pamela of the voice of -a man who used to come round selling muffins in -Oldminster, and this made her conjure up an -instant's vision of home and Mother and Michael -and all of them sitting round the fire while Doris -toasted muffins for tea. It was a ridiculous thing -to think of at this moment, but she could not help -it. How she wished she were at home, toasting -muffins.... But the man was waiting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Crabingway's house, Chequertrees," she -answered. "Is it far from here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Bout a mile an' 'arf, Chequertrees is," said -the porter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, dear," said Pamela. "Well, can I get a -cab or anything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the porter could reply the sound of heavy -footsteps was heard on the wooden floor of the -station entrance, and the next moment Tom Bagg -hove into sight. Of course Pamela did not know -what his name was then, though she knew it well -enough afterward; you could not help knowing -it if you stayed in Barrowfield more than a couple -of hours, because Mr Bagg was a local celebrity. -However, all Pamela knew at present was that a -fat, burly man with an enormous waterproof cape -and a waterproof hat stood before her. Here was -the very person she wanted—the Barrowfield -cab-man. He touched his hat with a fat forefinger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Evenin', miss. Ascuse me, but are you the -young lady for Chequertrees?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Pamela had informed him that she was, -he told her that he had had instructions from Miss -Crabingway to convey her and her luggage from -the station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Pamela got into the welcome cab outside, -and was driven away through the dusk. She -could not see much through the blurred and -steaming windows, and the little she could make out -appeared to be all hedges and trees. Presently -she could feel that the cab was going downhill, -then the pace slackened and it seemed to climb a -little, then for a long time (or so it seemed to -Pamela) the cab jogged along on level ground. -The slow pace at which the cab moved along, -the impossibility of seeing anything through the -windows, and her impatience to reach her journey's -end, made it seem a very long mile and a half from -the station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All at once the cab stopped with a violent jerk. -And here was Chequertrees, at last. Tom Bagg -clambered down from his seat and held the cab -door open while Pamela got quickly out. He -smiled genially down at her, and then pulled the -iron bell-chain outside the gate of the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Tom Bagg got her boxes down from the -cab Pamela gazed at the house which was to be her -home for the next six months. She could not see -very much of the house from the gate—a tall -iron-barred gate set into a high wall topped with ivy. -There was a long and wide gravel path up to the -front door, and Pamela could see that the house -was covered with ivy and had many windows. -The garden struck her as being a lovely place for -hide-and-seek, on account of its thick bushes and -number of big trees. As she passed through the gate -and made her way along the path, the cabman -following with her luggage, she saw that there was -a light in one of the windows behind a red blind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had no time to notice anything else before -the front door was opened by a middle-aged servant -in white cap and apron.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I'm Miss Heath—Pamela Heath," said -Pamela, as the maid waited silently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, please come in, miss," said the maid. -"Miss Crabingway told us to expect you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela stepped in, then turned to the cabman, -remembering his fare; but she was told that he -had already been paid by Miss Crabingway, and -was going back to meet the next down train and -fetch another young lady to the house—"What I -was told you was expecting here," he said to the -maid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right," she replied. "Two more young -ladies we are expecting to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, aye. Two it might be—one for certain. -</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> remember. Good evenin', miss." And depositing -Pamela's boxes in the hall the cabman took -his departure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela then became aware that another white-aproned -servant was standing at the back of the -hall, waiting to receive her; she was quite an -elderly woman with white hair. Directly Pamela -caught sight of her kind, motherly old face, the -feeling of depression that had been with her ever -since she had got out at Barrowfield station fell -away from her, and she felt at home. This was -Martha, she learnt, and Ellen it was who had opened -the front door. In the few minutes' talk Pamela -had with them before being shown upstairs to her -bedroom to take off her outdoor things and have -a wash, she gathered that Miss Crabingway had -departed yesterday morning, and had left word -that all orders were to be taken from Miss Pamela, -"just as if it was Miss Crabingway herself that -was telling us what to do," volunteered Ellen. It -made Pamela feel awfully young and inefficient -and responsible to hear these two elderly, -experienced housekeepers asking </span><em class="italics">her</em><span> for orders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you'll please go on just as usual, won't -you? ... It's all so strange and new to me—I -do hope you'll help me to do things right. -I'll have to come and talk things over with you -presently," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And though Ellen declared in tones of great -solemnity that anything that she could do to be of -use to Miss Pamela would be done with pleasure, -yet it was the kindly smile in Martha's eyes that -comforted Pamela. Things would be all right, she -felt, so long as Martha was there.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela felt a great liking for Martha from the -first—she seemed such a sensible, cheerful soul; -and the more Pamela got to know about her -afterward the more she respected and trusted her. -Ellen she was not so sure about, though she grew -to like her later on, in spite of her melancholy -expression and tone of voice. Pamela was not -long in discovering that Ellen had grown to enjoy -her melancholy as other people enjoy their -happiness. It was an art in which Ellen certainly -excelled. She could relate at great length, when in -the mood, all the various strokes of bad fortune that -had fallen on her numerous relatives and acquaintances, -and all the illnesses they had suffered -from, and died of, and her favourite recreation -was wandering round old churchyards and -exclaiming over the early age at which numbers of -people died.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But though Martha and Ellen might be opposite -temperamentally, yet they certainly united in -making Pamela very welcome on her arrival at -Chequertrees, and she found them most kind and -willing and anxious to make her comfortable. -Ellen carried her boxes up to the bedroom, while -Martha bustled about, getting hot water for her -to wash, and pulling down blinds and lighting the -gas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as Pamela was left alone in her bedroom -she threw off her hat and sat down on a chair and -looked about her, taking stock of her new -surroundings. Of course she had not had time to -notice much so far, but as she had passed through -the square hall and up the soft-carpeted stairs to -her bedroom, which was on the first floor landing, -she had got an impression of a house well furnished, -but sombre. There were a great many thick -plush curtains hanging over doors and at windows, -and the walls were crowded with pictures, most -of them having heavy dark frames. And now, -this room, which Miss Crabingway had said was -to be Pamela's bedroom—well, it was handsomely -furnished and clean, but to Pamela's eyes, used -to her airy, sparsely furnished little room at home -with its fresh white paint, oak furniture, and plain -green linoleum, this room seemed dark and -overcrowded. The bedroom suite was dark mahogany, -and had as one of its pieces a huge wardrobe with -two glass doors which filled almost the entire length -of one wall; it was evidently intended, originally, -for a much larger room than the one it was in at -present; here it towered over the other furniture -like a bullying giant. The bedstead, dressing-table, -and washstand, although they were of dark -mahogany, were evidently not of the same set -as the wardrobe. Pamela observed that the -wallpaper was an all-over floral design in various shades -of green and raised gold roses; the gloomy, -old-fashioned fireplace, with its marble mantelpiece, -on which were arranged a score of old china -ornaments and photo frames, and a massive marble -clock, was the chief feature of the wall opposite -the wardrobe. The window-curtains, the duchess -set on the dressing-table, and the coverlet on the -bed were the only touches of white to relieve the -general sombreness that prevailed. Pamela was -sorry to see that there was a thick soft carpet -on the floor—she hated carpets in bedrooms. As -she wandered round the room she was to occupy -for many a day to come, becoming acquainted with -it from various angles, she sighed; everything -looked solid, expensive, and subdued, but it did -not please her eye at all (though she had to admit -to herself that everything seemed very comfortable -nevertheless).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The clothes you choose, and the furniture you -choose to surround yourself with, are an index of -your character to a stranger. To Pamela, who -could not remember ever seeing Miss Crabingway, -this room was an introduction. Of Miss Crabingway's -character she knew nothing, but in her -mind's eye she pictured Miss Crabingway fond -of solid, expensive things, as large and dark, with -rich, black, rustling dresses, and gold brooches, -and a lot of thick gold rings set with large stones -on her fingers. Her face she could not imagine—except -that it would be massive and well preserved. -Pamela never could imagine people's faces, in her -mind's eye; she could conjure up people's figures -and movements clearly—but the faces were always -dim and misty. It sometimes worried her that -even her mother's face or Michael's refused to be -clearly recalled when she was away from them. -Of course she knew their features by heart, and -every twist and turn of their heads—but she could -not see their features in her mind's eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having imagined Miss Crabingway, therefore, -as well as she was able, she hastily flung off her -outdoor things, washed her hands and face and -brushed her hair, and prepared to go downstairs. -She was wearing her artistic, dark green frock, -and as she stood a moment with her hand on the -door knob taking a final glance round the room, -she looked as fresh and clear-eyed a specimen of -girlhood as one could wish to see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She made her way downstairs, and seeing an -open door and a lighted room on the left of the -hall, she entered. It was, as she had expected, -the dining-room. Dark, sombre furniture again, -and rich hangings; there was a cheerful fire -burning in the grate, and a white cloth, and cups and -saucers on the table hinted at tea in the near -future.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela had come in silently, her footsteps making -no sound on the thick carpet, and it was not until -she had been standing for a few seconds inside the -doorway that she noticed that there was some one -already in the room—some one who had evidently -not seen, nor heard, Pamela enter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crouching by the fire, and almost hidden by a -big arm-chair that stood on the rug, was a girl; -she had her back to the door and did not move as -Pamela stood watching for a moment. The girl's -thin hands were stretched out to the blaze as if -she were cold, and her head leant against the side -of the chair; she made no sound, but there was -something in her attitude that suggested great -dejection and loneliness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was just about to go forward when a -slight sound between a sob and a sigh escaped the -figure, and Pamela paused. She felt that it would -make the girl embarrassed to think that she had -been watched and overheard. So Pamela backed -stealthily out of the room (hoping she wouldn't -run into Ellen or Martha), and crept up the stairs -again; she waited a moment on the landing, shut -her bedroom door with a snap, then came running -downstairs, humming and patting the banisters -with her hand as she came—so as to give warning -of her approach.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She entered the dining-room. The girl was -sitting in the arm-chair now, and stood up nervously -as Pamela came in. She was a pale, thin girl, -with large dark eyes and black hair, and her -movements were nervous and jerky. She wore a -dark-coloured skirt and a white silk blouse with -short sleeves to the elbow, which made her look -very cold, and emphasized the thinness of her arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two girls gazed at each other for a second, -then Pamela gave a friendly smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As there's no one here to introduce us, we'll -introduce ourselves, shall we? I'm Pamela Heath," -she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm Beryl Cranswick," said the girl, smiling shyly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela held out her hand, and they shook hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so glad to meet you," said Pamela. "I -suppose we are the first two to arrive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose so," said Beryl, which did not help -matters forward at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What time did you arrive?" asked Pamela. -"I came by the four o'clock train from Marylebone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I arrived here this afternoon about three," -Beryl informed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you've been here a long time then—it's -just gone six now. I didn't know you were here -when I came—they didn't mention it to me.... -But have you had any tea yet?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why—why ever not?" said Pamela, in surprise, -ringing the bell by the fireplace. "We'll -have some at once, shall we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They did ask me if I'd have some—but I said -I'd wait. I—I didn't like to—to bother -them—till you came," stammered Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, you must have been awfully cold and -hungry after that long railway journey; you -</span><em class="italics">should</em><span> have had a cup of tea and something—I'm -sure it wouldn't have been a bit of trouble to them," -said Pamela, seizing the poker and stirring up the -fire. "Sit down and have a good warm—you -look quite cold still. We'll soon have this fire -... there! that's better."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ellen appeared at this moment, in answer to -the bell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, could we have some tea, please?" said -Pamela. "What time are the other arrivals -expected, can you tell me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know, miss," replied Ellen. "At -least, not for certain—sometime to-day, that's -all Miss Crabingway told us. The last down train -gets in at Barrowfield at midnight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I see. Well, it's no good waiting for them, -I suppose—we'd better have tea now in case they -don't arrive till midnight," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, miss. I'll bring it in at once," and -Ellen departed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was rather a queer experience for Pamela, -playing hostess in this strange house to strange -people, but her frank, easy manners helped her -considerably.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl, in Pamela's position, would have suffered -agonies of indecision and nervousness, and she -felt thankful she was not in Pamela's shoes, though -she certainly envied the unself-conscious ease with -which Pamela managed things. They were really -quite small, insignificant things, but to Beryl, -very self-conscious and timid, they would have -caused much dismay. Beryl was passing through -a stage of acute self-consciousness, not due to vanity -in the slightest, but to nerves. Even to eat in -public was a misery to her; although she was aware -that she was scrupulously particular in the way -she drank or ate her food, yet she hated having -to have meals with other people; she always felt -that they were watching her—criticizing her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so, when she and Pamela had tea together -for the first time, she hardly ate or drank anything. -Unfortunately, by accident, she got a plum jam -stone in her mouth and did not like to remove -it, suffering much discomfort in consequence until -Pamela's attention being distracted to the window -blind behind her for a moment, Beryl quickly -conveyed the stone to her plate again, and finished -her tea in peace. Pamela, who was as fastidious -as anyone in her table manners, was yet quite easy, -and appeared to enjoy a huge tea with comfort -and daintiness combined. Beryl certainly did envy -her that evening. She wondered what Pamela -would have done if she had got a plum stone in her -mouth—and rather wished this could happen so -that she might see how easily Pamela would act. -But Beryl's luck was out; no such opportunity -occurred.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Over tea Pamela gave Beryl a long account of -her home and people, and then began making -inquiries about Beryl's home. But Beryl was -strangely reticent, and only stated a few bald facts. -She was an orphan, she said; no brothers—no -sisters—and her father and mother had been dead -many years; her aunt, with whom she lived, had -her home just outside London—at Enfield. Beryl -said she had never been to boarding-school; -no, she didn't go out much—didn't know many -people—they lived very quietly—and so on. From -Beryl's manner Pamela gathered that she did not -wish to discuss her home or aunt, so the matter -was dropped, and Pamela suggested that when -tea was over they should ask Martha or Ellen to -show them over the house, so that they would -know their way about.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both Martha and Ellen professed themselves -delighted to show them over the house, and so -both of them accompanied the two girls on a -tour of inspection. Martha, who liked to do -things thoroughly while she was about it, insisted -on them seeing every room and cupboard from -top to bottom of the house, with the exception, -of course, of the locked-up room at the end of the -first floor landing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On this landing there were five rooms: the -locked-up room ran right across the front of -the house, the locked door being opposite the -stair-head; on either side of the landing were two -rooms—all four to be used as bedrooms for the -girls, each having a separate room to herself. -The rooms allotted to Pamela and Isobel Prior were -on the left, Isobel's adjoining the locked room; -Beryl's room was opposite to Pamela's, and her -next-door neighbour was to be Caroline Weston.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another flight of stairs, starting near by Beryl's -door, led up to Martha's and Ellen's rooms, the -bath-room and airing cupboards, and another spare -bedroom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ground floor included the dining-room (which -we have already seen) and, on the opposite side of -the hall, a large drawing-room with French windows -that led into the garden. Next door to the -dining-room, and at the back of the house, was a queer -little room with books all round the walls, a huge -writing-desk (much too large for the rest of the -furniture), half a dozen odd chairs, an old spinning-wheel, -and a glass cabinet full of curiosities. This -was called the 'study,' Martha said, where Miss -Crabingway read or attended to her correspondence; -but, in spite of the books, it looked more like an -interesting museum of odds and ends. A spacious -kitchen and scullery with a big larder, and a cosy -little sitting-room, leading out of the kitchen, and -set apart for the use of Martha and Ellen, -completed the ground floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There seemed to be a good many windows in -each room, so it ought to be a light house in -the daytime, Pamela thought; otherwise her first -impression of sombre richness was strengthened -after seeing over the rest of the house. The -furniture and fittings were all good and heavy-looking; -the walls were everywhere crowded with pictures—some -originals, some copies of well-known pictures, -and some photographic picture studies of people -and places. There were carpets and dark furniture -in every room. And what struck Pamela as being -very strange was that each room in the house had -at least one odd-sized piece of furniture in -it—either much too large or much too small to be in -keeping with the rest of the room; and this -particular piece, in each case, seemed to occupy a -very prominent position, so that one couldn't help -noticing it. It reminded Pamela of the doll's -house belonging to Olive at home, where the doll's -kettle and saucepan were the same size as the -chairs, and too big to stand on the doll's kitchen -stove. She wondered how Miss Crabingway had -come to possess these odd bits of furniture, and -was just looking at the extraordinarily small -piano-stool set before the huge grand piano in the -drawing-room, when a sudden ring at the bell announced a -fresh arrival, and Martha hurried out of the room -to open the front door.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-room-with-the-locked-door"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE ROOM WITH THE LOCKED DOOR</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Isobel Prior and Caroline Weston had arrived -together, having travelled in the same railway -carriage, each ignorant of the fact that the -other was bound for Chequertrees, until the waiting -cab at the station had made this known to them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm simply </span><em class="italics">dead</em><span>," were the first words Pamela -heard as she came out of the drawing-room to greet -the new-comer. The speaker was a well-dressed, -fluffy-haired girl with an aristocratic voice and -bearing, who was standing in the hall amid a pile -of luggage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, that sounds a cheerful beginning! Who -is it that's dead?" asked Pamela laughingly, as -she came forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl stared rather haughtily at Pamela for -a second, then smiled and shook hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I suppose you are Miss Heath," she said. -"I am Miss Prior. I've had a perfectly impossible -journey here to-day, and I'm simply fagged out -and perishingly cold."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must get you something hot to drink," -said Pamela, "and you must have a good rest. -Would you like to come straight into the dining-room -and have a warm—there's a lovely fire -there—or would you rather go up to your bedroom -first?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, </span><em class="italics">please</em><span>—a wash and tidy up first," said -Isobel. "I must look such a fright——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then Pamela noticed that another girl was -standing beside Martha, just inside the front door. -A big plush curtain in the hall almost hid her from -view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm awfully sorry—I didn't see anyone else -had arrived," said Pamela. "Are you—are you -Miss Caroline Weston?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl gazed stolidly at Pamela—a heavily-made -girl, plumpish, and wearing spectacles; she -carried a very neat handbag in one hand and a -very neatly rolled umbrella in the other hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Y-e-s," she said, in a slow, drawling voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela shook her warmly by the hand, and then -offered to take the two girls upstairs and show them -their rooms. As they passed the drawing-room -door Pamela caught sight of Beryl, who was waiting -shyly in the background, and she immediately -introduced her to the others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beryl and I have just been shown over the -house," Pamela explained. "We only arrived -to-day, of course—a few hours ago—I expect you're -too tired to want to bother to see all round -to-night, and if you are you must go over it in the -morning. Then we shall all know our way about, -shan't we? Come along, Beryl, let's take these -poor weary travellers up to their rooms. And, -Martha, can we have some hot supper—in about -twenty minutes, please?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Once again the house was astir with the bustle -of welcoming the latest arrivals. Martha vanished -into the kitchen to prepare something hot and -tasty for supper, while Ellen hurried to and fro -with warm water for washing, and carried boxes -and parcels upstairs, and lit gases, and pulled down -blinds, and generally made herself useful, while -Pamela, followed by Beryl, showed Isobel and -Caroline to their rooms, doing her best as hostess -to make them feel comfortable and at home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Over supper the four girls became better -acquainted. Naturally they were all very curious -to know why Miss Crabingway had invited the -four of them to Chequertrees, and they studied -each other with interest, trying to find an answer -to the riddle. Following Pamela's friendly lead -they talked of themselves, and their homes, and -the journey to Barrowfield. That is, all of them -talked a good deal with the exception of Beryl, -who still seemed very shy and only spoke when she -was addressed directly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was in one of her 'beamy' moods that -night. She beamed and laughed and talked and -thoroughly enjoyed herself during supper, not a -little excited by all the strange surroundings and -the strange new acquaintances she was making; -perhaps it was her genuine interest in everything -and everybody that made her so jolly a companion—and -so unself-conscious a one. Anyway, she -liked girls—nearly all girls—and they liked her as -a rule. Of course she had her dislikes, but on the -whole she got on very well with girls of her own -age. How was she going to like and get on with -these girls, all about her own age, who were sitting -at supper with her this evening, she asked herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She felt vaguely sorry for Beryl, as if she wanted -to protect her, because Beryl seemed so painfully -shy and ill at ease; her clothes were cheap-looking -and unsuitable for the time of year.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel seemed to Pamela to be slightly -disdainful of everything and everybody; she had -a habit of over-emphasizing unimportant words -when she talked, and appeared at times to -exaggerate too much. Her clothes were well chosen and -evidently of very good material, and well tailored. -Her features, framed by her pretty, fluffy hair, -were clear-cut and refined; she would have been -a pretty girl had it not been for her eyes, which -were deep-set and a trifle too close together. She -talked a good deal about her 'mater' and 'pater,' -and her brother Gerald and his motor-car.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline, beside Isobel, looked very plain, and -almost dowdy, in spite of the fact that her clothes -were good—the reason being that her clothes did -not suit her at all. She had no idea how to make -the best of herself; her one great idea was to be -neat at all costs. Her drab-coloured hair was -brushed back smoothly, in a most trying fashion; -and never by any chance would she have a button -or hook missing from any of her clothing, nor a -hole in her stocking—and this was a credit to her, -because she worked as slowly with her needle as -she did with everything else, though it must be -owned that she was very fond of sewing. Very -slow, very methodical, very neat—such was -Caroline. "I believe she even dusts and wraps up in -tissue paper each needle and pin and reel of cotton -after she has finished with it," was Isobel's opinion -after she had known her a week; and although -this may sound like one of Isobel's exaggerated -remarks, yet it was nearer the truth than she -herself dreamt when she said it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What acquaintance had Miss Crabingway had -with these three girls, Pamela wondered. And -what had made her choose them—and herself. -They made an oddly assorted quartette.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they were rising from the supper-table she -asked them whether any of them knew Miss -Crabingway well, and learnt to her surprise that none -of them had more than the slightest acquaintance -with her. Neither Isobel not Caroline could -remember ever seeing Miss Crabingway, and Beryl -said vaguely that she had seen her once—a long -time ago. Beryl said she believed that her mother -had been a friend of Miss Crabingway's, many -years back. Isobel said her mater had met Miss -Crabingway abroad—had happened to stay in the -same hotel—about six years ago. An uncle of -Caroline's, so she informed them, had once done -some business transactions with Miss Crabingway, -and had corresponded with her since, at intervals.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I can't make it out at all," thought -Pamela to herself. "Why Miss Crabingway should -have invited us—four girls—practically strangers -to her—to come and stay at her house while she -is away.... I can't see any reason for it.... -Anyway, I suppose we shall know when she returns."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The supper having considerably revived Isobel, -she said she would like to see over the house before -she went to bed; and Caroline, having no objection -ready against this suggestion (except that she -was half asleep in her chair), found herself joining -in this tour of inspection and stolidly taking stock -of the house that was to be her home for the next -six months.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a whispered aside to Pamela Isobel pronounced -the dining-room wall-paper 'hideous' and -the drawing-room decorations 'perfectly -awful'—both remarks being overhead by Ellen, who -glared at the back of Isobel's head in silent -indignation at this reflection on her mistress's taste. -It was certainly not good manners on Isobel's -part, but she was not over-sensitive about other -people's feelings, and was rarely aware of the fact -when her words or tone of voice had hurt or given -offence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the first floor landing Pamela pointed out -the locked door. The girls knew that they were -forbidden to try to open it, or look through the -keyhole, their instructions being the same as -Pamela's.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 85%" id="figure-42"> -<span id="on-the-first-floor-landing-pamela-pointed-out-the-locked-door"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="ON THE FIRST FLOOR LANDING PAMELA POINTED OUT THE LOCKED DOOR" src="images/img-046.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">ON THE FIRST FLOOR LANDING PAMELA POINTED OUT THE LOCKED DOOR</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And to think that one little action—just -kneeling down and putting your eye to the -keyhole—would make you lose fifty pounds!" exclaimed -Isobel. "It's not worth losing all that money -just for curiosity, is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rather not," said Pamela. "I vote that we -all keep away from that door as if the paint on it -were poisonous to touch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sorry my room's next to it," Isobel went -on, "but it doesn't really matter—though I like -to keep as far away from temptation as I can ... not -that I </span><em class="italics">want</em><span> to look inside, but—you know the -feeling—just because I know I mustn't——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know the feeling," agreed Pamela. "But -don't you think it would be wisest not to talk about -it any more, or we shall all be dreaming about it -to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ellen, who was leading the way up to the top -floor where her own room and Martha's room were -situated, pricked up her ears at this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dreams go by contrary," she said to herself -mechanically, and, apparently, without meaning. -Besides being a mine of information on melancholy -events, Ellen was a great believer in dreams, -possessing as many as ten 'dream books,' which she -consulted frequently on the meaning of her dreams. -Ellen believed also in fortune-telling by -tea-leaves, and lucky stars, and the like. And many -a time she had made even Martha—who knew her -little ways and generally laughed tolerantly at -her—turn 'goose-flesh' at the terrible fate she would -read out for Martha and herself from the tea-leaves -left in their cups.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you believe it's possible to </span><em class="italics">dream</em><span> what is -inside that room—I mean dream truly—if you -set your mind on it just before going to sleep?" -Isobel asked of Pamela, as she glanced round the -bath-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline, who was examining everything in the -bath-room closely and minutely, as was her habit, -raised her head as if to speak, but Pamela, who -had her back turned to her and did not see her -mouth open, replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know. I'm afraid I'm not an expert -on dreams—I hardly ever dream myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't it be fun," suggested Isobel, as they -all made their way downstairs again, "if each of -us tried hard to dream what was inside the -room—and then tell each other what dreams -we had had, in the morning—and when Miss -Crabingway comes back we will see if any of us -are right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't know," said Pamela. "Somehow -I don't think we'd better even try to dream what -is inside the room. Perhaps it isn't quite fair -to—to—I don't know how to put it— Anyway, I -think it would be better if we left the subject -entirely alone, don't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again Caroline opened her mouth and was -about to say something, when Isobel burst in with,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but Miss Crabingway didn't say we were -not to </span><em class="italics">dream</em><span> about it, did she? ... That would -be impossible to forbid.... But still, perhaps -it's best not to meddle with the subject. -It's not worth losing fifty pounds over, anyway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl, although she had accompanied the others -over the house, had not spoken a word since they -left the dining-room, but she had listened to all -that was going on with much interest. Here was -another girl, Isobel, who seemed quite at home -among strangers in a strange house, thought Beryl; -but she did not envy Isobel; she was vaguely -afraid of her. Caroline appeared more at her ease -than Beryl had expected her to be; though -Caroline seemed to others slow and awkward, she was -not aware of this herself, and so was not made -uneasy on that score. Caroline did not know her -own failings, while Beryl was keenly alive to </span><em class="italics">her</em><span> -own—and suffered accordingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the four girls bid each other good-night a -few minutes later, Caroline found the opportunity -she had been waiting for, and mentioned -something that had been fidgeting her since her -arrival.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh—er—do you know if my room has been -well aired?" she asked slowly, reminding Pamela -irresistibly of an owl as she gazed solemnly through -her spectacles. "I'm rather subject to chills—and -mother told me to be sure and see that my bedroom -had been well aired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately Martha was able to assure her on -this point, and Caroline went upstairs apparently -content. But before she went to sleep she -thoroughly fingered the sheets and pillow-cases to -satisfy herself that Martha was a strictly truthful -person.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, at length, every one had retired and all -was quiet, a little breeze arose in the garden and -scurried round the house, whispering excitedly -among the ivy leaves. But though the breeze -ruffled and agitated the cloak of ivy, it had no -power to stir the old house beneath, which stood, -grim and unmoved, brooding in silence over the -strangers within its walls.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="making-plans"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER V</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MAKING PLANS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the morning, as soon as breakfast was over, -Pamela held an informal 'council meeting' -in the drawing-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought we'd better just talk over some sort -of plan for organizing things, so that we shall all -be as comfortable as possible," she said, leaning -her elbow on the small round table before her and -resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "You -see, it isn't as if there was a real hostess here—you -know what I mean—it isn't as if we could drop -into the ordinary life of the household. Here we -are—four strangers yesterday, four acquaintances -to-day—and we've got to live and work and play -together for the next six months. Now what are -the best arrangements to make, so that we'll all -have a good time? It's left entirely in our hands. -Anybody got any suggestions?" She looked -smilingly round at the other three girls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel was the only one who answered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course we didn't know </span><em class="italics">what</em><span> we should be -expected to do when we came here," she said. -"It was all such an </span><em class="italics">awful</em><span> hurry and scramble—there -was no time to think of anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," agreed Pamela. "But now we are -here, we'd better have some sort of plan, don't -you think—so as to leave each other as free as -possible—I do hate tying people down to time -and—and things—but we'll have to have some sort -of arrangements about meals, for instance, or else -we'll keep Martha and Ellen busy all day long. -Luckily, we've got hardly any housekeeping -difficulties. I had a talk with Martha and Ellen this -morning, before breakfast, and they're going on -with their work just as usual. Martha does all the -cooking and washing, and Ellen does the general -work. But I expect four girls in the house will -make a good bit of difference! So I propose that -we each make our own bed and tidy our own room -every morning—and Ellen will clean the rooms out -once a week. It won't take each of us long of a -morning. What do you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl agreed at once; and Isobel, though she -said she wasn't </span><em class="italics">used</em><span> to doing housework, promised -to do her best; Caroline was understood to say -she preferred making her own bed because other -people never made a bed to her satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having settled this little point, Pamela went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As regards shopping—Martha says she always -sees about getting in provisions, but she would like -us to say what we'd like for breakfasts, and dinners, -and so on. She says Miss Emily Crabingway left -a sum of money with her for purchasing enough -food for the next three months; after that time -has elapsed, Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne is to send on -a further sum—enough for the final three months. -You see that's all arranged for us; but we've got -to choose the meals, and I thought it would be a -good plan if we took it in turns, each week—first -one, then the other—to draw up a list of meals for -the week. Write it all out, and take it in to -Martha. What do you think? Martha likes the idea."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm quite willing, but I don't believe I could -think of enough variety for a week straight off," -said Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, you could," said Pamela, "with the -help of Mrs Beeton's Cookery Book—there are no -end of hints in there. Martha has a copy of the -book on a shelf in the kitchen; she'll lend it to us. -She says it's very useful, but rather too extravagant -for her liking, with its 'break eight eggs and beat -them well,' and 'take ten eggs' and 'take six eggs' -and so on. Martha says she always looks up a -recipe in Mrs Beeton's, and then makes it her own -way (which is always quite different)."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As long as you don't choose boiled haddock -every morning," said Isobel, "and don't give us -lamb chops and mashed potatoes every dinner-time—with -rice pudding to follow—I'm sure we'll none -of us try to assassinate you on the quiet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't mind taking my turn at choosing the -meals," said Caroline, thinking tenderly of suet -roly-poly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I'll do what I can," remarked Isobel, more -in her element when choosing work for others to -perform than in doing work herself. She had -momentary visions of how she would astonish the -others by the magnificence of her menus; none of -the 'homely' dishes for Isobel; with the aid of -Mrs Beeton, who knows what might not be accomplished -in the way of exclusive and awe-inspiring -dishes. "But </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> choose the first week's meals, -</span><em class="italics">do</em><span>," she begged Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As this suggestion was proposed, seconded, and -carried unanimously by the others, Pamela agreed, -and so the matter was settled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Having now disposed of our housekeeping -duties," Pamela laughed, "now what are we going -to do with the rest of our time? Had any of you -any idea of keeping up studies, or attending classes, -or anything of that sort? You see we are left -idle—to act entirely on our own initiative—without -any suggestions or arrangements whatever on Miss -Crabingway's part. And I know that, speaking -for myself, I don't want to idle away the next six -months."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> shouldn't mind being idle," observed Isobel. -"In fact mater said the six months' rest would do -me no harm. I was just going back to college, -you know, when we heard from Miss Crabingway—and -of course all my plans were upset—but I -didn't mind so much with the prospect of a lovely, -lazy holiday at Barrowfield. But still, if you are -all going to take up some sort of work, I suppose -I must, as well.... I should be bored to death -with my own company—if you are all going to work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I only suggest a few hours' work each day," -reminded Pamela. "It makes the day seem so -much more satisfactory when one has </span><em class="italics">done</em><span> something."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The question of what to study, and how to study, -gave much food for discussion; but the subject -was prevented from taking too serious a turn by -Isobel's constant stream of facetious remarks on -the kind of work she would take up. She seemed -to think it a huge joke; though Caroline, who was -apt to take things literally, was much perturbed at -the numerous studies Isobel proposed, until she -realized that Isobel was only making fun all the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should prefer to keep up my music," said -Beryl, presently. "And study hard at theory, -harmony, and counterpoint—and if it wouldn't -annoy anyone—perhaps I could practise on the -piano here. I—I should love that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course it wouldn't annoy anyone, would it?" -Pamela appealed to the other two, who said that it -certainly wouldn't annoy them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It isn't as if it were the five-finger -exercise—thump—thump—thump," added Caroline -cautiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we should </span><em class="italics">hope</em><span> you'd got beyond that," -said Isobel to Beryl, who flushed nervously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," she hastened to assure them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are worse things than the five-finger -exercise," broke in Pamela. "I have a sister at -home who knows </span><em class="italics">one</em><span> piece, and whenever she gets -near the piano she sits down and plays it—thumps -it, I should say—because she 'knows we love it,' -she says. We always howl at her, on principle, -and the nearest of us swoops down on her, and -bears her, protesting, out of the room."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others laughed with Pamela at this recollection -of hers, and attention was distracted from Beryl, -much to her relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said Pamela, "for myself—I am going -to do a heap of reading—especially historical books; -and I want most of all to continue my sketching. -I'm very fond of dabbling in black and white -sketching—and I want lots of practice. I've brought -with me some books about it—to study."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you </span><em class="italics">energetic</em><span> people," yawned Isobel. "It -makes me tired to think of the work you're going -to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are you going to do?" Pamela asked, -turning to Caroline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," drawled Caroline, "I like doing needlework -better than anything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel put her handkerchief to her mouth to hide -a smile. Fortunately Caroline was not looking -at her, but Beryl was. Caroline went on undisturbed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm not fond of reading or books, but I've -been thinking—if there were any classes near by, -on dressmaking—cutting out and all that, you -know—that I could attend, I wouldn't mind that; -but anyway I've got plenty of plain needlework to -go on with. I brought a dozen handkerchiefs in -my box to hem and embroider—and I've got a -tray-cloth to hem-stitch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mind you don't overtax your brain, my dear," -muttered Isobel, giggling into her handkerchief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh?" asked Caroline, not catching her remark.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing," said Isobel. "I was only wondering -what work I could do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I daresay you'll be able to find some dress-making -classes, Caroline," said Pamela. "We'll go -out and buy a local paper and see what's going on. -But, Isobel, what are </span><em class="italics">you</em><span> going to do?" Pamela -asked, looking across at Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah me!" sighed Isobel. "Well, if I must decide, -I'll decide on dancing. I'm frightfully keen on -dancing, you know. I'll attend classes for that if -you like—that is, if there are such things as dancing -classes in this sleepy little place.... I might do -a bit of photography too. I didn't bring my -camera—but perhaps I can buy a new one—it's great fun -taking snapshots."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If there are no classes in Barrowfield there is -almost sure to be a town within a few miles, where -we can get what we want," Pamela said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Matters now being settled as far as was possible -at the present moment, Pamela said she was going -out to look round the village, and Isobel -immediately said she would go with her as she wanted to -buy some buttons for her gloves. Beryl would -have liked to go with Pamela, but felt sensitive -about visiting the village for the first time in Isobel's -company—for more than one reason; so she said -she would go and unpack her box and get her music -books out, and look round the village later on. -Caroline also elected to stay and unpack and put -her room in order. So Pamela and Isobel started -off together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had been gone but five minutes when the -post arrived with a registered letter addressed to -Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," said Martha knowingly, as she laid the -letter in the tray on the hall-stand.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="millicent-jackson-gives-some-information"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MILLICENT JACKSON GIVES SOME INFORMATION</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What a one-eyed sort of place this is," -said Isobel inelegantly, as she came -out of the village drapery establishment -and joined Pamela, who was waiting on the green -outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was just thinking how charming the little -village looks," said Pamela, "clustering round this -wide stretch of green with the pond and the ducks. -And look at the lanes and hills and woods rising in -the background! It </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> picturesque."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it may be frightfully picturesque and all -that," Isobel replied, "but picturesqueness won't -provide one with black pearl buttons to sew on -one's gloves. Would you believe it—not one of -these </span><em class="italics">impossible</em><span> shops keeps such things. 'Black -pearl buttons, miss. I'm sorry we haven't any in -stock. Black </span><em class="italics">bone</em><span>—would black bone do—or a -fancy button, miss?'" Isobel mimicked the voice -of the 'creature' (as she called her) who served -in the tiny draper's shop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I suppose they're not often asked for -black pearl," said Pamela, as they moved on. -"And wouldn't black bone do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Black </span><em class="italics">bone</em><span>!" said Isobel disdainfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you can't expect to find Oxford Street -shops down here in Barrowfield," smiled Pamela. -"And it's jolly lucky there aren't such shops, or -Barrowfield would be a </span><em class="italics">town</em><span> to-morrow. Still, is -there anywhere else you'd like to try?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I shan't bother any more to-day," Isobel -sighed. "I did want them—but I'll wear my -other gloves till I can get the buttons to match the -two I've lost.... How people do </span><em class="italics">stare</em><span> at one -here. Look at that old woman over there—And, -oh, do look at the butcher standing on his step -</span><em class="italics">glaring</em><span> at us! He looks as if his eyes might go -off 'pop' at any moment, doesn't he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Although Isobel pretended to be annoyed, she -really rather enjoyed the attention she and Pamela -were attracting. Naturally the village was curious -about these strange young ladies who had come to -stay at Miss Crabingway's house. Thomas Bagg -had given his version of the arrivals last night as -he chatted with the landlord of the 'Blue Boar,' -and had professed to know more about the matter -than he actually did. In acting thus he was not -alone, for most of the village pretended to know -something of the reason why Miss Emily Crabingway -had suddenly gone away, and why her house -was occupied by four strange young ladies. In -reality nobody knew much about it at all. It speaks -well for Martha and Ellen that they were not -persuaded to tell more than they did; maybe they -didn't know more; maybe they </span><em class="italics">did</em><span>, but wouldn't -say. The village gossips shook their heads at the -closeness of these two trusted servants concerning -their mistress's affairs.... And so Pamela and -Isobel attracted more than the usual attention -bestowed on strangers in Barrowfield—the bolder -folk (like the butcher) staring unabashed from their -front doors, while the more retiring peeped through -their curtains.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barrowfield itself was certainly very picturesque; -no wonder it appealed to Pamela's artistic eye. -Surrounded by tree-clad hills, the village lay jumbled -about the wide green—in the centre of which was -a pond with ducks on it; white-washed cottages, -old houses, quaint little shops, and inns with -thatched roofs, stood side by side in an irregular -circle. Seen from one of the neighbouring hills -you might have fancied that Barrowfield was -having a game of Ring-o'-Roses around the green, -while the little odd cottages dotted here and there -on the hill-sides looked longingly on, like children -who have not been invited to play but who might -at any moment run down the slopes and join in. -The square-towered church and the Manor House, -both on a hill outside the magic ring, stood watching -like dignified grown-up people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Chequertrees was one of the biggest houses -in the circle around the green, and a few dozen -yards beyond its gate a steep tree-lined avenue -led up to the big house of the neighbourhood—the -Manor House, where lived the owners of most of -the land and property in Barrowfield. The Manor -House was about a quarter of a mile beyond the -village, and stood half-way up the avenue, at the -top of which was the square-towered church. Close -beside the church, but so hidden among trees as to -be invisible until you were near at hand, was the -snug vicarage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The railway station at which the girls had arrived -on the previous evening was a mile and a half away -on a road that led out from the opposite end of -the green to where Chequertrees stood. Several -lanes climbed up from the green and wound over -the hills to towns and villages beyond—the nearest -market town being four miles distant if you went -by the lane, six miles if you followed the main road -that ran past the station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course Pamela and Isobel would not have -known all this on their first short walk round -Barrowfield had they not fallen into conversation with the -girl who served in the newsagent's, and who was only -too ready to impart information to them when they -went in to buy a local newspaper. She was a -large-boned girl with a lot of big teeth, that showed -conspicuously when she talked; she eyed curiously, -and not without envy, the well-cut clothes and -'stylish' hats that the two girls were wearing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela noticed that the girl wore a brooch made -of gold-wire twisted into the name 'Millicent,' and -as 'Jackson' was the name painted over the shop -outside, she tacked it on, in her own mind, as -Millicent's surname.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It being still early in the day Millicent Jackson's -toilet was not properly finished—that is to say, she -did not appear as she would later on about tea-time, -with her hair frizzed up and wearing her brown -serge skirt and afternoon blouse. Her morning -attire was a very unsatisfactory affair. Millicent -wore all her half-soiled blouses in the mornings, -and her hair was straight and untidily pinned up; -she had a black apron over her skirt, and her hands, -which were not pretty at the best of times, looked -big and red, and they were streaked with blacking -as if she had recently been cleaning a stove. Poor -Millicent, she found it impossible to do the -housework and appear trim and tidy in the shop at the -same time. She discovered herself suddenly wishing -that the young ladies had postponed their visit -till the afternoon, when she would have been dressed. -But there were compensations even for being 'caught -untidy'; for could she not see that young Agnes -Jones across the way peering out of her shop door, -overcome with curiosity, and would she not dash -across to Millicent as soon as the young ladies had -departed, to know all about the interview! So it -was with mixed feelings that Millicent kept the -young ladies talking as long as she could.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it's a vurry ole church, and vurry interestin'," -said Millicent for the third time. "But uv -course you ain't been in these parts long enough, -miss, for you to 'ave seen everything yet, 'ave you, -miss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, we only arrived last night," said Pamela -in a friendly way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't say!" exclaimed Millicent in great -astonishment; although Thomas Bagg had been -in the shop a few hours back and told her all about -their arrival. "Oh, well, uv course, miss—!" -she broke off and waited expectantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Pamela's next remark was disappointing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think it's an awfully interesting-looking village -altogether," she said. "Whereabouts is the ruined -mill you mentioned just now? Very far from the -village? I wonder if we have time to go and see -it this morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a goodish way," said Millicent reluctantly. -"Well, about two mile over that way," she pointed -toward the back of the shop. "Along the lane -that goes through the fields.... I expect you'd -find it vurry muddy in the lane after all the rain -we've been 'aving."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I don't mind that," said Pamela, but Isobel -wrinkled up her nose and looked down at her dainty -shoes. "But have we time before lunch—um—no, -it's half-past twelve now—what a shame! ... Never -mind! I must go along to-morrow if I can. -I feel I don't want to use up all the country too -quickly—it's so nice exploring." She smiled at -Millicent, and gathered up the papers she had -bought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, by the way, who lives at the Manor House?" -asked Isobel, addressing Millicent, directly, for the -first time; her voice was slightly condescending—it -was the voice she always adopted unconsciously when -addressing those she considered her 'inferiors'; -she did not mean to be unkind—she had been -taught, by those who should have known better, -to talk like that to servants and tradespeople. -But Pamela, whose upbringing had been very -different, frowned as she heard the tones; they -jarred on her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Millicent did not seem to notice anything -amiss.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Henry and Lady Prior, miss," answered Millicent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel raised her eyebrows and gave a short -laugh. "Prior! That's strange! I wonder if -they're any relation to me," she said to Pamela. -"I must try to find out." She turned to Millicent -again. "Sir </span><em class="italics">Henry</em><span> Prior, you said?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, miss," said Millicent, looking at Isobel -with fresh interest. (Here was a choice tit-bit to -tell Aggie Jones.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm," said Isobel. "Yes—I know pater had -a cousin Henry—I shouldn't be at </span><em class="italics">all</em><span> surprised—Wouldn't -it be delightful, Pamela, if it turns out -to be this cousin——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She broke off, feeling that until she was sure it -would be wiser not to talk too much before Millicent, -who was listening, with wide eyes and open mouth. -To say just so much, and no more, was agreeably -pleasant to Isobel, and made her feel as though, to -the rest of the world, she was now enveloped in an -air of romantic mystery. As far as Millicent -represented the world, this was true. Millicent at once -scented romance and mystery—for surely to be -related to a titled person, and not to know it, is -mysteriously romantic! She looked at Isobel with -greater respect.... Pamela's voice brought her -suddenly back to the everyday world again—the -shop, the papers, and the fact that she was untidy -and not dressed; she noticed with sudden distaste the -blacking on her hands and hid them under her apron.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who lives in that pretty little white cottage -opposite to Chequertrees?" Pamela was asking. -"I'm sure it must be some one artistic—it's all so -pleasing to the eye—it took my fancy this morning -as I came out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The little white cottage—" began Millicent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With the brown shutters," finished Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes, I know the one you mean, miss," said -Millicent. "Mrs Gresham lives there, miss. I don't -know that she's an artist—she lets apartments in -the summer—and has teas in the garden, miss. -Does vurry nicely in the season with visitors, but -she's terrible took up with rheumatics in the winter—has -it something chronic, she does. But she's a -nice, respectable person—always has her daily paper -reg'lar from us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Her garden must look lovely in the summer," -remarked Pamela. "There are some fine old Scotch -fir trees in it, I noticed." She had already taken -note of these particular trees by the cottage, for -sketching later on; they were the only Scotch firs -that she had seen in Barrowfield so far.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As she and Isobel walked across the green on -their way back to Chequertrees the picturesque -blacksmith's forge claimed her attention, and she -stopped to admire it. As she did so a woman came -down the lane beside the forge, and passing in front -of the two girls walked quickly over the green. -Pamela's attention was immediately attracted to -her, firstly because she was carrying an easel (also -a basket, and a bag, evidently containing a flat -box); secondly, because she was dressed very -quaintly in a grey cloak and a small grey hat of -original design; thirdly, because she went into the -garden gate of the little white cottage opposite -Chequertrees; and lastly, because, as the woman -turned to latch the gate after her, Pamela caught -sight of her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who </span><em class="italics">does</em><span> she remind me of?" said Pamela. -"I'm sure I've seen some one like her——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Isobel was not listening to Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If Sir Henry Prior is related to us, mater will -be frightfully interested to hear what——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Pamela was not listening to Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, p'r'aps she doesn't live there then—I -wonder," said Pamela, as the woman in grey, -after handing the basket in at the front door of -the cottage and speaking a few words to somebody -inside, who was invisible to Pamela, came quickly -out of the gate again and hurried away down the -village, the easel under one arm and the bag under -the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who </span><em class="italics">does</em><span> she remind me of?" puzzled Pamela, -as she and Isobel turned in at the gate of Chequertrees.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="beryl-goes-through-an-ordeal"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">BERYL GOES THROUGH AN ORDEAL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Pamela opened the registered -envelope that was waiting for her she -found inside twelve pounds in postal -orders, and a short note from Mr Joseph -Sigglesthorne informing her that Miss Crabingway had -desired him to send this pocket-money for her to -share between 'the three other young ladies' and -herself. That was three pounds each—the -pocket-money for the next three months. To those girls -who already had some pocket-money in their purses -this little addition came as a pleasant, though not -unduly exciting, surprise; to those who had little -or no money of their own the three pounds was very -welcome indeed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela shared out the money, wrote a note of -acknowledgment to Mr Sigglesthorne, and then -retired into the 'study,' after dinner was over, -with a copy of Mrs Beeton, a paper and pencil, and -a business-like frown on her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nobody must disturb me for half an hour," -she said, in mock solemnity, "for I am going to -do most important work—make out a week's list -of </span><em class="italics">meals</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline was not likely to disturb anyone, as she -had betaken herself upstairs to her bedroom again -to continue arranging her belongings. The morning -had not been long enough for her to finish unpacking -properly, she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl, who besides being quicker than Caroline -had also less to unpack, had finished her room long -ago; so this afternoon she wandered into the -drawing-room, and closing the door after her -carefully, crossed over to the piano.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The drawing-room with its long French windows -leading into the garden was about the pleasantest -room in the house. It was lighter than most of the -other rooms, and there were fewer hangings about, -which was a good thing for the piano, Beryl thought. -"I wonder if it would disturb anyone if I played," -she said to herself, opening the piano and stroking -the keys with her fingers. The house seemed -suddenly so quiet—she hardly liked to break the -silence; she feared somebody coming in to see -who was playing, for Beryl was nervous at playing -before others, although she loved music and could -play very well. She would have to make a beginning -</span><em class="italics">some time</em><span>, she told herself, if she really meant -to practise—so why not now? But still she -hesitated, her fingers outstretched on the keys.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She could hear faintly, the sound being muffled -behind closed doors, the clatter of dishes in the -kitchen—Martha and Ellen washing up. Pamela -was in the study, she knew, and Caroline was -upstairs; but where was Isobel? Beryl wished -she knew where Isobel was. She had a dread of -Isobel coming in to disturb her, and she would be -sure to come, out of curiosity, if she heard the -piano.... Beryl felt suddenly annoyed with -herself. Why should she care who came in—if -she really </span><em class="italics">meant</em><span> to practise——</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl began to play—softly at first; but as she -became gradually absorbed in the music, her touch -grew firmer and the notes rang out clearly, and she -forgot all about anyone hearing—forgot everything -but the music. The only time Beryl quite lost -her self-consciousness was when she was playing -or listening to music.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She played on, happily absorbed, when suddenly -her former fears were realized; the door handle -clicked and some one put her head round the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's you, is it?" said Isobel's voice; and -Isobel pushed the door open and came in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl stopped playing, and swung round on the stool.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This room's not so bad when one gets used to -it," said Isobel, walking across to the French window -and pushing the curtains back; she stood looking -out into the garden. "Anyway, it's better than -that perfectly hideous dining-room. What awful -taste Miss Crabingway must have! I really don't -know whether I shall be able to endure it for six -whole months." She threw herself on the couch -beside the window and yawned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel felt rather bored this afternoon. Caroline -was still unpacking—besides, who wanted to talk -to Caroline?—Pamela was still busy, and waved -threateningly to anyone who looked into the study, -keeping her eyes fixed on Mrs Beeton. There was -no one but Beryl to talk to. Isobel was rather -curious about Beryl, because she seemed so -unwilling to talk about herself and her home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you learnt music at college?" Isobel -observed, studying Beryl's slight, stooping figure, -as she sat with her back to the piano, her pale face -gazing rather anxiously at her questioner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No—oh, no," said Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you have a music master—or mistress—at -home, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Beryl. "Mother taught me a -little—and I—and I picked up the rest for myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel raised her eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We had a frightfully handsome music-master -at our college at Rugford," said Isobel. "Most of -the girls raved over him—but I'm not so keen on -Roman noses myself.... What college are you at?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh ... Just a school—near where we live—at -Enfield," replied Beryl; and Isobel saw to -her surprise that Beryl was blushing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've never been away from home then—to -boarding-school?" Isobel suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's great sport," said Isobel. "But you -want plenty of spare cash to stand midnight feasts -to the other girls, and have a bit of fun. Pater and -Gerald used to come down in the car and fetch -me home for week-ends sometimes, by special -permission; and sometimes one or two of the girls -would be invited to come with me. The girls were -awfully keen on getting invitations to our place; -they used to 'chum-up' to me, and really almost -beg for invitations. And you should have heard -them simply rave about Gerald.... There was -one girl, I remember, who practically implored me -to ask her home for the holidays—but she wasn't -a lady—I don't know how she managed to get into -the college—the Head was awfully particular as a -rule. This girl was only there one term, though, -and then the Head wrote and told her people that -she could not continue at the college— Well, what -do you think they found out about her? ... She -was a </span><em class="italics">Council</em><span> school girl! And her parents said -she had been educated 'privately' at home! I -suppose her father had scraped up a little money -and wanted her to finish off at our college—to get -a sort of polish. But we weren't having any— Good -gracious! What a colour you've got!" she -broke off, and gazed at Beryl, whose cheeks were -scarlet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's—I'm rather hot," said Beryl. "What are -'midnight feasts'?" she asked hurriedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, they're picnics we have in the dormitories -after all the lights are out and we're supposed to -be in bed," Isobel explained, still eyeing Beryl -curiously. "We choose a moonlight night, or -else smuggle in a couple of night-lights with the -cake, and fruit, and chocolates. It's frightfully -exciting—because at any moment we may get caught."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What happens if you are?" inquired Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—we never were—not while I was there.... -I wonder if I shall go back for a term or two -when my visit here is ended?" Isobel mused.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Will you be going back again to your school after -you leave here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I don't think so," said Beryl, who was now -quite pale again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you get up to any larks? Were there any -boarders at your school?" Isobel persisted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Beryl answered. "It was only a day -school. We didn't have any special larks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't you like the school?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not very much. It was all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why? Weren't the girls nice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, they were nice enough," said Beryl. "It -was a nice school. But nothing specially exciting -ever happened. Just work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um ... I shouldn't have liked that," said -Isobel. "By the way, your father and mother are -dead, aren't they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl nodded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Many years ago?" asked Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ever so many years, it seems to me," Beryl -replied very quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was your father a musician?" Isobel went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," answered Beryl. "Why?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no reason. I only wondered. What was -his profession, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl gazed at her in silence, and Isobel thought -perhaps she did not understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His work, I mean. What did he do for a living? -Or had he independent means?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He—I don't know what he did—he went to -the City every day," Beryl ended lamely; her face -was ghastly white. "It's so long ago—I can't -remember—I was only very young when he died."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This seemed to satisfy Isobel for a time, and she -began talking of her brother Gerald and his taste -in hosiery, until presently she began to inquire -about the aunt with whom Beryl said she lived at -Enfield. But on this subject Beryl was decidedly -reticent, and answered vaguely, and as often as -possible in monosyllables, so that Isobel could gain -little or nothing from her questionings. All she -gleaned was that Beryl's 'Aunt Laura' lived at -Enfield, and that she was a widow, with one -daughter about eighteen years old, whose name was -also 'Laura.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently the conversation veered round to -schools again, and Isobel asked,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the way, what was the name of your school -at Enfield?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl hesitated but a moment, then said, -"Rotherington House School."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I believe that's the very school a friend -of mine went to at Enfield—that's why I asked -you the name. How quaint! I must write and -tell her—that is, when we are allowed by these silly -old rules to write to anyone. She'll be frightfully -interested to know I know some one who went -to the same school with her. But I expect you -know her; her name is Brent—Kathleen Brent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl shook her head. "I don't recall the name," -she said. "But what were you saying at dinner -about some one living at the Manor House named -Lady Prior—who is a relation of yours?" asked -Beryl all at once, desperately anxious to change -the subject. Her ruse was immediately successful. -Isobel plunged into the trap headlong, leaving -behind her, for the moment, her curiosity concerning -Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, I don't know for certain that they -are relations, but I know Pater has a cousin or -second cousin named Henry who was knighted -some years ago—but it is a branch of the family -that we've somehow lost touch with—they've lived -abroad a lot. But I </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> find out if these </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> the -same Priors! It's strange! I've never heard Pater -mention that they had a country seat down here—but, -as I said, we lost sight of them, and besides, -they may have only returned to England recently. -I must make inquiries and find out all I can—then, -of course, if I find they </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> my relations—" Isobel -chattered on, but Beryl was scarcely conscious of -what she was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl's mind was obsessed by the awkward -questions she had just evaded—the questions -about her father, her aunt, and her school. Only -about the last subject had she been forced into -telling a direct untruth, she told herself, trying to -remember what she </span><em class="italics">had</em><span> said to Isobel about all -three subjects; and it was only the name of the -school that had been—incorrect. But it was in -vain that Beryl tried to ease her mind. She -knew she had never been inside Rotherington -House School in her life; it was the best school -in Enfield for the 'Daughters of Gentlemen,' and -Beryl knew it well by sight and had made use of -its name in a weak moment. Beryl sat on the -piano-stool, apparently listening to Isobel, but -raging inwardly—hating herself for telling a lie, -and hating Isobel for driving her into a corner -and making her say what she had. She felt -perfectly miserable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel's flow of conversation was suddenly checked -by the entrance of Caroline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought I heard some one in here," said -Caroline slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo! Have you finished unpacking yet?" -asked Isobel, in a laughing, sarcastic way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I've practically finished," replied Caroline -composedly, seating herself in a chair by the fire, -and bringing some needlework out of a bag she -carried on her arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you industrious creature! What </span><em class="italics">are</em><span> you -going to do now?" exclaimed Isobel despairingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm just working my initials on some new -handkerchiefs," said Caroline solemnly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no mystery about Caroline, and consequently -no incentive to Isobel's curiosity. She -had already found out, while they were waiting -for dinner, where Caroline had been to school, what -her father's occupation was, where she lived, and -who made her clothes; and everything was plain -and satisfactory and stolid, and if not exactly -aristocratic, at any rate eminently respectable—like -Caroline herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel's glance wandered from Caroline, with -her smooth plait of hair, and her long-sleeved, tidy, -unbecoming blouse, to Beryl, with her pale, sensitive -face, and white silk blouse with the elbow sleeves that -made her arms look thin and cold this chilly January -day. Why didn't she wear a more suitable blouse, -Isobel wondered—and looked down at her own -sensible dark blue </span><em class="italics">crêpe de Chine</em><span> shirt blouse with -a sigh of satisfaction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What became of those papers Pamela and I -bought this morning?" Isobel yawned. "I quite -forgot—I was going to look in the local rag to see -what was going on in this place—and to see if there -is any information about dancing classes——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think the papers were left in the dining-room," -said Beryl. "I'll get them for you." And she was -out of the room before Isobel could say another -word. She felt that if she had sat still on the -piano-stool a minute longer she would have had -to do something desperate; pounce on Isobel -and shake her, or snatch the serenely complacent -Caroline's needlework out of her hands and tear it -in half. People had no right to be so complacent; -people had no right to be so horribly inquisitive. -Then she shivered at the thought of the scene she -might have created—and dashed out of the room -for the newspapers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She was quickly back with the papers, for -which Isobel yawned her thanks and then proposed -to read out some 'tit-bits' for Caroline's benefit. -"For I really do think your mind must want a -little recreation, my dear Caroline," she remarked, -"after the fatiguing work it has had in deciding -whether you shall embroider C.W. upon your -handkerchiefs or just plain C."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am embroidering C.A.W. upon all of them," -said Caroline seriously, and not in the least offended, -stopping to look over the top of her round spectacles -for a moment at the crown of Isobel's fluffy head -bending over the newspaper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the first opportunity to slip away unobserved -Beryl made her way up to her bedroom. As soon -as she was inside she locked the door, and throwing -herself on the bed she began to cry, her face buried -in the pillow to stifle the sound of her sobs.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="which-concerns-a-visit-to-inchmoor-and-a-woman-with-a-limp"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER VIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">WHICH CONCERNS A VISIT TO INCHMOOR -<br />AND A WOMAN WITH A LIMP</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The following day was dry, with a hint of -sunshine in the air, which tempted the -four girls to plan a four-mile walk over -the hills to Inchmoor, the nearest market town. -They each wanted to do some shopping, and Isobel -wanted to make inquiries about a 'Dancing -Academy' advertised in the local paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So, with great enthusiasm, the girls set about -their morning tasks before they started out—each -making her own bed and tidying her room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Martha shook her head and smiled as she -crossed the landing, duster in hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Too good to last," she thought to herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>True, the enthusiasm did not last longer than a -week, but the girls stuck to their plan nevertheless, -and whether they felt enthusiastic or not they -made their beds and tidied their rooms each day -without fail; it became, after a time, a matter of -habit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Martha crossed the landing and was passing -Pamela's bedroom door the door sprang open and -Pamela ran out, almost colliding with Martha, -whom she grasped by the arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Martha, I'm so sorry. I didn't hurt you, -did I?" she cried. "But you're the very person -I wanted. Do come and look out of my window -for a second, and tell me who this is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She hurried old Martha across to the window, -and pointed out to her a woman dressed in -grey, who was walking briskly away along the -green.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't see very well without my glasses," said -Martha, peering intently through the window, -while Pamela added a few words of description of -the woman in grey to help Martha to recognize her. -"Oh—</span><em class="italics">that</em><span> young person," Martha exclaimed -suddenly; "well, she isn't exactly what you might -call young—but still— That's Elizabeth Bagg, -Miss Pamela. Old Tom Bagg's sister."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tom Bagg?" queried Pamela, who had not -heard the name yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old cabman what brought your luggage -up here the other night, Miss Pamela."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! That is whom she reminds me of then," -Pamela said. "I knew I'd seen some one like her -recently, but do you know, I couldn't think for -the life of me who it was. But tell me—is she an -artist? I saw her carrying an easel—and she -dresses very artistically."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, she do go in for painting a bit, Miss Pamela," -said Martha. "But, poor creature, she don't get -much time to herself. She keeps house for her -brother—and him a widderer with six little -children—so you may depend she's got her hands full. -How she manages to keep the children and everything -so nice, and yet get her painting done and -all, is more'n I can understand. She gives lessons -over at a young ladies' school at Inchmoor -too—twice a week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to get to know her, and see some of her -pictures," said Pamela, watching the figure in grey -as it disappeared in the distance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's rather difficult to get to know—keeps -herself </span><em class="italics">to</em><span> herself, if you know what I mean, Miss -Pamela," said Martha.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know," Pamela replied. "But people who -paint always interest me so much——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I daresay she'd be glad of some one to take an -interest in her work—it isn't much encouragement -she gets from her brother, </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> know—not that she -ever says anything about it; he seems to expect -her to be always cooking and baking and sewing -and cleaning for him and the children—and he -don't set any value on her pictures at all. Yet -what </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> nicer, I always say, than a nice picture to -hang on the walls! It makes a place look furnished -at once, don't it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela nodded. "Where does she live?" she inquired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know the blacksmith's place, Miss Pamela?—well, -half-way up that lane that runs beside the -blacksmith's—a little house on the right-hand side -as you go up is Tom Bagg's, called 'Alice Maud -Villa'—out of compliment to old Tom's aunt what -they thought was going to leave them some -money—but she didn't."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Alice Maud Villa,'" mused Pamela. "I -thought perhaps she lived at that little white cottage -opposite, as I saw her go in there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, no, she don't live there," said Martha. -"She was probably only leaving some new-laid eggs -or a plaster for Mrs Gresham's rheumatics—she do -have rheumatics something chronic, poor dear. -That's what it was, most likely, Miss Pamela. -Elizabeth Bagg is a very kind-hearted creature."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall do my best to get to know her," said -Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later—after a slight delay caused -by Caroline being unable to make up her mind -whether she should take her mackintosh as well as -her goloshes and umbrella, and finally deciding to -take it in spite of Isobel's unconcealed mirth—the -four girls started off on their walk to Inchmoor. -Beryl and Caroline were introduced to the village -by the other two girls, before they all turned up -the lane that led through the fields, and over the -hill, to the market town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was the lane that led past the picturesque -old windmill that Millicent Jackson had told -Pamela about in the paper-shop; and knowing -this, Pamela had brought a notebook and pencil -with her in case she felt tempted to stop and make -a sketch of it while the others went on to Inchmoor. -There was nothing she wanted to get particularly -at the shops in the little town, and a fine day -in January was a thing to seize for sketching—there -were so few fine days; and one could always do -shopping in the rain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lane that ran between the fields was very -pretty even in January, and Pamela found -herself wishing that her brother Michael was with -her; he always appreciated the same scenery as -she did, and her thoughts were with him and those -at home while she joined in, more or less at random, -the animated conversation that was going on -around her. She dared not let herself think too -much about her home, or such a wave of homesickness -would have engulfed her that she would have -wanted to go straight off to the station and take a -through ticket to Oldminster at once. She felt she -could not possibly endure six whole months without -a sight of her mother or any of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I've got to see this thing through now," -she told herself. "I mustn't be silly. And six -months will pass quickly if I've got plenty to do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela had thought over her duties as hostess -carefully, and was convinced that it was necessary -to have some kind of work for each of them to do, -day by day, if they were not to become bored or -irritable with each other, and if their six months' -stay in Barrowfield was to be a success. Of course, -it was too early to be bored with anything -yet—everything was so fresh; but presently, when they -had got used to each other and Barrowfield, she -feared things might not run so easily—unless -there was plenty of interesting work to be done. -Cut off from their home interests, they were left -with many blank spaces in their lives which needed -filling—and Pamela meant to see that these spaces -were filled; she was a great believer in keeping busy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Enthusiasm is generally catching. And Pamela's -enthusiasm had been communicated to the other -three—which explains Isobel's desire to -interview the principal of the Dancing Academy; and -Caroline's determination to inquire about dress-making -lessons in Inchmoor, though unfortunately -she had not been able to find anything about the -matter in the local paper. Beryl was in quest of -some musical studies which she meant to buy out -of her three pounds. But enthusiasm can keep at -white heat with but few people; and those who are -naturally enthusiastic must keep the others -going—as Pamela was to find out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The four girls soon began to ascend a steep incline -in the lane, with tall hedges bordering each side -now, and separating them from the fields. Whenever -they came to a gate set in a gap between the -hedges, and leading into one or other of the fields, -they would stop for a moment and look over the -bars of the gate at the fine view of hills and -woods that unfolded itself before them. They were -certainly in the midst of charming country; even -Isobel admitted this involuntarily, and she rarely -if ever expressed any appreciation of scenery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, as they turned a bend in the lane, the -old windmill came in sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a fine picture it makes!" thought Pamela; -then she exclaimed aloud, "Oh, and there's a pond -beside it—Millicent Jackson never mentioned the -pond. It's just exactly what it wants to complete -the picture."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So attracted was Pamela by the windmill, which -proved on nearer inspection to be even more -picturesque than it had appeared from a distance, -that she arranged at once to stay behind and make -a sketch of it while the other three went on to -Inchmoor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And if I've finished before you return I'll come -on to the town and meet you. But if you don't -see me wandering round Inchmoor, look for me here -as you come back. You don't mind me staying -behind, do you? But I feel just in the mood to -try sketching this old place to-day," Pamela said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others said that of course they did not mind, -and after refreshing each other's memory with the -reminder, that five o'clock was the hour they had -told Martha they would be home for 'high tea,' -they left Pamela beside the old mill on the hill-top -and started to wend their way down the lane on -the other side, toward the distant spires of -Inchmoor, two miles away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know, I've been thinking quite a lot -about that locked-up room next to mine," said -Isobel to the other two, as they went along. "Oh, -yes, I know Pamela thinks it wiser not to talk too -much about it for fear of adding 'fuel to the flames' -of curiosity! But one can't help thinking about -it! It's so frightfully strange. Now what do you -think—in your own mind, Caroline—what do you -think </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> inside that room?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," replied Caroline slowly, "I shouldn't -be surprised if Miss Crabingway kept all her private -papers and possessions that she treasures, and does -not want us to use or spoil, locked up inside the -room. I know that's what I'd have done if I'd -been Miss Crabingway."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You think it's only </span><em class="italics">things</em><span> then?" Beryl broke -in. "Not—not a person?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean?" cried Isobel instantly, -turning to Beryl with great interest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seeing that the other two were waiting eagerly -for her reply, Beryl felt a momentary thrill of -importance, and let her imagination run away -with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I mean," she said nervously, "supposing there -was a secret entrance leading into that room—so -that a person could get in and out without us -knowing anything about it. And supposing some -one occasionally crept into the room and—and -spied on us through the keyhole—just to see what -we were doing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Beryl, what an idea!" gasped Isobel in -delight. "Whatever made you think of that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know—it—it just came into my head," -stammered Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't think it's at all a likely idea," Caroline -deliberated. "Surely one of us would have heard -some little sound coming from the room if there -had been anyone inside there! I haven't heard -anything myself. Besides, who would want to spy -on us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's only one person, of course—and that's -Miss Crabingway," said Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline's eyes grew wide and round with surprise; -but Isobel narrowed hers, and looked at Beryl -through the fringe of her eyelashes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't mean to say," Isobel said incredulously, -"that Miss Crabingway would spend her -time ... well, I never! What an idea!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Miss Crabingway's in Scotland, isn't she?" -asked Caroline in mild astonishment. She had been -told that Miss Crabingway had gone to Scotland and -had never questioned the matter—of course having -no reason to do so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—so we're told," said Isobel; then she -gave an exaggerated shiver. "Ugh! I don't like -the idea of an eye watching me through the -keyhole!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We might ask Martha to hang a curtain in -front of the door—say we feel a draught coming -through on to the landing," suggested Beryl. "But -really, please don't take this seriously—I only made -it all up—in fun, you know—it isn't a bit possible. -I—p'r'aps we ought not to have talked about it. -Pamela said 'fuel for the flames.' ... And it does -make you more curious when you discuss it, doesn't -it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know," said Isobel. "</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> certainly shan't -be tempted to look through the keyhole myself—in -</span><em class="italics">case</em><span> there's anything in your idea, and Miss -Crabingway sees me, and I lose my fifty pounds. -But I shall </span><em class="italics">listen</em><span>, and if I hear any sounds coming -from the room——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel was evidently rather taken with Beryl's -suggestion, for she referred to it more than once -before they reached Inchmoor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they at last arrived in the busy little -market town they decided that it would probably -be quicker for each of them to go about her own -affairs, and then all to meet in an hour's time at -a certain tea-shop in the High Street, where they -would have some hot chocolate and sandwiches -to keep them going until they got home again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"P'r'aps Pamela will have joined us by then," -said Beryl hopefully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inchmoor was a bustling, cheerful little place, -with very broad streets, plenty of shops, a town -hall, and a picture palace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl quickly discovered a music shop, and here -she spent an enjoyable half-hour turning over a -pile of new and second-hand music, and picking -out several pieces that she had long wanted to buy. -When she at length tore herself reluctantly away -from the music-seller's, it occurred to her that -perhaps she might buy a new and warmer blouse -if she could see one in a draper's window; -but she was not used to buying clothes for herself -and rather dreaded the ordeal of entering a -big drapery establishment when she was not -sure what kind of material she preferred, nor -how much she ought to pay for it. She passed -and re-passed one draper's shop, but catching -sight of the Wellington-nosed shop-walker, and a -fashionably dressed lady assistant, eyeing her -through the glass door, her courage failed her -and she passed on down the street to another -draper's. Here the exasperated tones of a -girl serving at the blouse counter came to -Beryl's ears, and she hesitated, lingered for a -few moments looking in the window, and then -decided not to bother about a blouse to-day—there -was not much time left before she would -have to meet the others at the tea-shop. She -looked about for a clock, and spying one, found that -there was no time left at all, and, inwardly -relieved, she walked briskly away down the street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the meantime Isobel had found Madame -Clarence's Dancing Academy, and was now occupied -in interviewing no less a personage than Madame -Clarence herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Academy was in a side-street, and was a -tall, flat-fronted old house with a basement and an -area; it did not look as if it belonged to -Inchmoor at all, being quite unlike the other houses -in its neighbourhood, which were frankly cottages, -or really old-fashioned country residences. The -Academy was an alien; it looked so obviously the -sort of house that is seen in dozens on the outskirts -of London. It gave one the feeling that at some -time or other it really must have been a town house, -and that one night it must have stolen away from -the London streets and come down here for a breath -of the fresh country air. And once having reached -Inchmoor it had stayed on, lengthening its holiday -indefinitely, until every one had forgotten that it -was only to have been a holiday, and had accepted -the Academy as a permanent resident.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Madame Clarence, who received Isobel in a -drawing-room which seemed to be mostly blue -plush, long lace curtains, and ferns, was a small, -bright-eyed woman, dressed in a black and white -striped dress. Madame walked in a springy, dancing -manner, and when she was not talking she was -humming softly to herself. She wore a number of -rings on her short white fingers—fingers which -were never for a moment still, but were either -playing an imaginary piano on Madame's knee, -drumming on the table, toying with the large yellow -beads round Madame's neck, or doing appropriate -actions to illustrate the words Madame said. -Madame had grey hair, though her skin was soft -and unwrinkled, except for a certain bagginess -under the eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To all appearances Madame must have been -inside the house when it came down from London, -for she gave an impression of being town-bred, -and, judging by her conversation, of having -conferred a favour on Inchmoor by consenting to reside -in so unimportant a spot. She said she would be -charmed to have Miss Prior as a pupil, and ran -over, for Isobel's benefit, a long list of names of -Society people to whom she claimed to have given -dancing lessons. Isobel was duly impressed and -inquired her fees. After ascertaining what kind of -dancing Isobel wished to be instructed in, Madame -said the fee would be three guineas a term; and -as Miss Prior had come when the term was already -well advanced, Madame said she would give her -extra private lessons until she caught up with -the rest of the class. This seemed so generous of -Madame that Isobel closed with the offer at once, -although the appearance of the Academy was not -quite what she had expected; but still, Isobel -reminded herself, Inchmoor was only a little country -town, and it was a marvellous and fortunate thing -to find anyone so exclusive as Madame in such a -backwater. And Isobel wondered how the little -dancing-mistress had drifted here.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel's thoughts were interrupted by Madame -rising and offering personally to conduct her over -the dancing-hall, which she proceeded to do, -humming as she led the way into a large room with -polished floor, seats round the walls, and a -baby-grand piano; around the piano were clustered -bamboo fern-stands and pedestals, which supported -large ferns growing in pots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This floor is a perfect dweam to dance on," -Madame informed Isobel. "I'm sure you will -enjoy it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After exchanging one or two polite and complimentary -remarks with Madame, and having arranged -to come over to the Academy every Tuesday morning -and every Friday afternoon, Isobel was about to -depart when Madame said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is a long way for you to come fwom Bawwowfield -alone—have you not a fwiend who would -care to come with you and take lessons also?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel had not thought of this before, but told -Madame Clarence she would see if she could arrange -for a friend to come with her, admitting that she -would certainly prefer it to coming alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On her way to the tea-shop she turned the idea -over in her mind, and speculated on the likelihood -of one of the other girls joining her. She had not -much hope of Pamela (whom she would have preferred), -because she did not seem to be interested -in dancing and wanted all her spare time for her -sketching and reading. Beryl was a doubtful -person—no, Isobel thought it unlikely that Beryl -would join. Caroline—Isobel smiled to herself at -the idea of slow, clumsy Caroline dancing. "It -would do her a world of good though," she thought -to herself. "And, anyway, though I'm not frightfully -keen on her company, she'd be better than no -one." She would put the matter to all three, -Isobel decided, and see if any of them seemed -inclined to join her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She found Caroline and Beryl waiting at the -tea-shop for her, and the three of them went in and -ordered hot chocolate and sandwiches. They chose -a table near the window so that they were able to -watch all that went on in the street outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline was rather sulky over the meal because -she had failed to find out anything at all about -dressmaking classes in Inchmoor, and was -consequently disappointed. Such classes did not seem -to exist, and she had spent her hour in fruitless -inquiries, and in trying to get a certain kind of -embroidery silk to match some that she already -had. The silk had been unobtainable also, and -Caroline's time had been wasted on disappointing -quests. This was not the time to talk about -dancing; Isobel had the wisdom to know this, -but nevertheless she was dying to talk about it. -She forbore, however, in her own future interests.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose nobody's seen Pamela yet?" Isobel -observed. "We shall find her still sketching those -few old bricks, I expect—unless she's found it too -cold to sit still! And my goodness! won't she be -hungry by this time!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could we take a couple of sandwiches along -with us, do you think?" suggested Beryl. "In -case she would like to have them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a bad idea," said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So that is what they did. The short January -day was already well advanced, and a chilly little -breeze had sprung up by the time they emerged -from the tea-shop. Isobel and Caroline fastened -their furs snugly round their throats, and Beryl -buttoned up her coat collar. Then the three girls -started briskly off toward Barrowfield.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Pamela, when the other three left her, -had first of all explored the mill and then settled -down to her work. That the mill was partly ruined -and wholly deserted made matters perfect, according -to Pamela's ideas. She wandered up to the open -doorway and looked inside. Bricks and dust and -broken timber within—nothing else. It was quite -light inside, owing to the many holes in the walls. -Pamela stepped cautiously in, picking her way -through the dust and dried leaves that had drifted -in, and over the loose bricks and wooden laths, and -clambering on to a small mound of accumulated -dust and rubbish she looked through one of the -holes in the wall at the magnificent sweep of country -stretching away downhill to the little cup in the -hill-side where Barrowfield lay. She could see -the smoke rising up from the houses in the village; -and beyond this, on the farthest side of the cup, a -range of tree-clad hills closed the view. Barrowfield -was not in a valley, but in a little hollow among the -hills.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the other hand, Inchmoor, which could be -located from a hole in the other side of the windmill, -was certainly down in a valley; the road leading -to the market town was only visible for a short -distance beyond the mill; it twisted and curved -and then dived out of sight—to become visible -again far in the distance when about to enter -Inchmoor. Pamela, gazing from the hill-top, could not -see anything of the three girls on their way to -Inchmoor, as they were already hidden from her sight -by a bend in the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when she went back to her former position -and took a final look over Barrowfield way before -starting work, her eye caught sight of a figure -coming rapidly up the hill, along the lane which -the girls had just traversed. Being the only living -thing in sight at the moment, Pamela watched the -figure until it was hidden from her sight for a few -minutes by the tall hedges that grew at the sides -of the lane. She was not particularly interested in -the figure, but had noticed casually that it was a -woman, and that the woman appeared to have a -slight limp. When she lost sight of her Pamela -came out of the old windmill, and taking up the -position she had chosen for making her sketch, she -got everything ready and set to, and was soon -absorbed in her work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How long she had been sketching before she -became aware that some one was standing watching -her Pamela did not know. It was probably a -considerable time, but she was so engrossed in what -she was doing that she had not heard footsteps -passing in the lane behind her—footsteps that -ceased suddenly, while a woman dressed all in -black and wearing a black hat with a heavy veil -over her face, and a thick silk muffler wound round -her neck and shoulders, stopped and stood gazing -with a strange and curiously vindictive look at the -unconscious Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly, without any other reason except that -queer, sub-conscious feeling that one is being -watched, Pamela shivered and looked quickly round -over her shoulder—and saw the woman in the -lane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as Pamela stirred the woman turned her -head away and moved on, hastily limping forward -up the hill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, in accordance with the usual country -custom, called out in a friendly tone, "Good-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The woman made no reply, but continued her -limping walk, and was quickly out of sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose she didn't hear. P'r'aps she's deaf," -said Pamela to herself, and thought no more -about it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could she have seen the expression on the woman's -face as she stood in the lane a few minutes earlier, -watching, Pamela would not have resumed her work -with a mind as free from curiosity as she did.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="isobel-makes-trouble"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER IX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ISOBEL MAKES TROUBLE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Pamela had just finished her sketch, and -had begun to be aware that a chilly breeze -was blowing down her neck, and that her -hands were cold, when the sound of voices came -floating toward her; she suddenly realized that it -must have been a long time ago when the other -girls had left her. And then she heard Isobel's -voice exclaiming:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, she's still here! Good gracious, Pamela, -you don't mean to say you're still drawing those -old bits of wood and bricks! ... Well!" The -voice ended on a note of despair that was meant -to signify Isobel's conviction that Pamela was -qualifying for an asylum. "You must be frightfully -hungry," Isobel continued, as the three girls -came up to Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then it was that Pamela woke up to the fact -that she was hungry—very hungry, and very glad -of the sandwiches which Beryl now produced and -handed over to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, that was thoughtful of you. Thanks so -much," she smiled at Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did you finish your sketch? May I see it?" -asked Beryl shyly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela brought the drawing out. "But I'm not -a bit satisfied with it," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I think it's splendid," said Beryl, gazing -admiringly at Pamela's picture of the old windmill -and the pond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was certainly well done; Pamela's style was -uncommon, and her treatment of the subject bold -and decided. She had talent, undoubtedly, but -how far this talent would take her, time alone -would show. Pamela was very ambitious, but -very critical of her own work, and though full of -enthusiasm over a picture while at work upon it, -was rarely satisfied with it when finished, which -was a very good thing, as it always spurred her on -to try to do better. However, Beryl, who was no -judge of pictures, thought Pamela's sketch was -perfect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not until they reached home and were sitting -round the fire after 'high tea' did Isobel remember -that she had meant to buy a camera in Inchmoor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I must get it when I go over to Madame -Clarence's for my first lesson," she said. "It will -be amusing to keep a photographic record of my -visit here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had told them all about Madame during the -walk home, and now tried to persuade one of them -to join her in having dancing-lessons. Nothing -definite was settled that night, and Isobel left them -to think the matter over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The following day the girls made an attempt -to start on their programme of work. Caroline -put in a couple of hours sewing. Beryl practised -and copied out some music. And Pamela got out -her sketch-book. But what was poor Isobel to do -without a Madame Clarence, or a camera at hand? -She wandered round the garden for a time, and then -she went indoors and talked to Caroline; but finding -this too dull, she roamed round the house—keeping -a safe distance from the locked door—and went in -and out of various rooms, and stood looking out of -windows and yawning, until she was almost bored -to tears. It was curious, she thought to herself, -that the very sight of other people working made -her restless and disinclined to settle down to read -or write or sew or do anything at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Unfortunately this seemed to be the case -throughout her stay at Chequertrees; she never wanted -to work when other people were working, and -consequently there were frequent interruptions from -her. Pamela found that the only time she could -work indoors undisturbed was when Isobel was -over in Inchmoor at her dancing-lessons. Isobel -was one of those unhappy people who cannot -entertain themselves, but who always want -somebody else to be entertaining them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On this first occasion, when the other three were -working and Isobel yawning, Pamela bore it as -long as she could, then, packing her sketching -materials away with a sigh of regret, she invited -Isobel to come out and do a bit of gardening with -her. Isobel hated gardening, but it meant some one -to talk to, and so she jumped at the idea eagerly. -Pamela was not over-fond of gardening, she knew -very little about it, but anything was better than -hearing Isobel's restless feet wandering about and -listening to her audible sighs and yawns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Out of doors it was rather cold, so they wrapped -up warmly, and set to work to 'tidy up a bit' in -the garden at the back of the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a while all went well and Isobel chatted -away to her heart's content, while Pamela tied up -some withered-looking plants (whose name she did -not know) with a length of twine she had found in -the kitchen. Martha was upstairs getting dressed -for the afternoon when the two girls started on -their new occupation, and Ellen was out shopping -in the village, otherwise Pamela and Isobel might -have been warned about old Silas Sluff. As it was, -they continued their gardening, blissfully -unconscious that old Silas was just round the corner of -the gravel path, behind the privet hedge that -separated the vegetable garden from the lawn and -flowers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think," said Pamela, "this old bush ought -to be trimmed a bit—I wonder if there's a pair -of shears handy.... Is this the right time -of year to cut it though? ... What do you -think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I expect so," said Isobel at random, knowing -nothing about it. "Any time would be all right -with those sturdy old bushes—I don't know where -the shears are, but here's a pair of old scissors I -brought out from the kitchen—they'd do, wouldn't -they? Here, let me do a bit of trimming. And, -do you know, mater had promised me and Gerald -that in any case we should..." She continued a -lengthy story that she had started to recount for -Pamela's benefit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then old Silas came round the privet hedge -to fetch his wheelbarrow. He came to an abrupt -standstill when he caught sight of the two girls, -and stared, open-mouthed, his hat pushed back on -his head and his watery blue eyes wide with -astonishment. He had had no idea that there was anyone -in the garden; he had not heard any talking, as -he was afflicted with deafness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere!" was all he said, when he recovered from -his surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela and Isobel started, and turned round at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They beheld a very wrinkled little old man, with -a ruddy complexion and a tuft of white beard -under his chin; he wore a green baize apron, to -protect his clothes from the soil, and had a vivid -pink shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. As -the girls returned his gaze steadily, they saw his -face begin to work and twitch with indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere!" he said again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg your pardon," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you want, my good man?" inquired -Isobel, haughtily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere! Wot yer doin' to that there bush? -You leave it be, my gels!" called Silas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel's eyebrows were raised in indignant surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why—we're only doing a little gardening! What -is it? Who are you?" asked Pamela, unaware that -old Silas was deaf.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere's me—done this gardin—man and boy—for -forty year—and I don't 'ave no interference," -cried Silas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I suppose you are Miss Crabingway's -gardener?" said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave it be, my gels," was all Silas replied. -"If you'd </span><em class="italics">arxed</em><span> me I'd a-given you summat to -do—but not that bush—you oughter arxed me first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How dare you speak to us like that—" began -Isobel, angrily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Pamela interrupted with, "It's no good, -Isobel, I think he's deaf. He doesn't seem to hear -anything we say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care whether he's deaf or not deaf—I -won't be spoken to like that by a servant. Such -impertinence!" cried Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silas meanwhile had continued talking without -a pause, while he advanced slowly down the path -toward them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela moved forward to meet him, and raising -her voice tried to make him understand what they -were doing and who they were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sorry if you think we've done any harm -to the garden—but I don't think we have, you -know," she cried. "And we didn't know Miss -Crabingway had a gardener."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silas caught the last sentence. This indeed -was adding insult to injury, though Pamela had -not meant to be in the least insulting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't—know—Miss—Crabingway—had a gardener," -repeated Silas, amazed. "Why—I done -this gardin——man and boy—forty year, I 'ave. -Don't it </span><em class="italics">look</em><span> like it?" he demanded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it does—of course it does," answered -Pamela, trying to appease him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well then—" he began, then caught sight of -Isobel treading on the side of the garden bed. -"'Ere! Get orf that, my gel," he cried. "You're -crushin' them li'l plants."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was too much for Isobel. The gruff, -disrespectful tones, the ordering manner, and the 'my -gel,' made her suddenly enraged, and her temper -got beyond her control.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How—how dare you!" she flared up. "This -is no more your garden than it is—than it is mine, -and </span><em class="italics">I won't</em><span> be spoken to like this!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As her words seemed to be making no impression -on Silas, she deliberately stamped on the little -plants; then, her temper being properly roused, -she turned and snatching at a branch of the bush -behind her she twisted and bent it and snapped it -off, and flung it on to the pathway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There!" she panted. "</span><em class="italics">Now</em><span> perhaps you will -understand that </span><em class="italics">I will not</em><span> tolerate your insolent -manner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With her head high in the air, and her cheeks -burning, she walked haughtily away into the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Silas was dumbfounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, how silly!" cried Pamela, ashamed for -Isobel. "I'm so sorry she did that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Silas's watery blue eyes were still more -watery as he stooped down and tried with gentle -hands to remedy the mischief that Isobel had done -to the little plants. Pamela knelt down on the -path to help him, and was bending over the garden -bed when all at once she heard the old gardener -give a chuckle. She glanced round in surprise. -Silas was wagging his head from side to side and -chuckling to himself. The plants were not very -much damaged, and the bush—well, it would grow -again. But it was not these discoveries that filled -old Silas's soul with glee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who'd a thought it!" he chuckled. "There's -a high sperrit for yer! 'Oighty-toighty is it, my -gel? Ho! Hall right! We shall see. Ole Silas -Sluff'll learn yer to darnse on 'is gardin. You -wait!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took no more notice of Pamela, but -seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, and when -Pamela left him and went indoors he was still -giving occasional chuckles and muttering to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What made you do it?" Pamela said to Isobel -afterward. "It didn't do any good——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the man was preposterous!" said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know he spoke gruffly, but I don't think he -meant to be rude," said Pamela. "It's just his -manner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then it's time he learnt better," Isobel replied. -"I don't know what the world's coming to, I'm -sure, with all these inferior creatures setting up to -teach——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you count Silas Sluff your inferior, you should -be sorry for him and set to work to show him how -to behave, instead of——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If he were my gardener I'd dismiss him on the -spot," Isobel said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela realized the uselessness of continuing the -discussion any further at present, and so the subject -was dropped for the time being.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I ought to have warned you, Miss Isobel," said -Martha, when she heard the story. "Old Silas is -that touchy-like—but no one takes no notice of -what he says. He's worked about these parts for -years as a jobbing gardener. But no one takes no -notice of him. At present he comes and works -two days a week for Miss Crabingway, and the -other four days he gives a extra hand up at the -Manor House. He lodges down in the village—next -door but three to the blacksmith—nice little -house—overlooks the stables of the 'Blue Boar' -from the back windows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when Martha recounted the incident to -Ellen, over supper that night, Ellen remembered -previous occasions when Silas had been put out with -people, and, thinking of his subsequent revenges, -her only comment on the story was, "Oo-er!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first dinner of Pamela's choosing was voted -a great success by Isobel and Beryl. Caroline, who -always liked to be as accurate as possible in her -remarks, said she would have liked the pudding -to have been a little more 'substantial'; chocolate -</span><em class="italics">soufflé</em><span> was very tasty, but there was no inside -to it. Caroline had a strong preference for solid -puddings—as the other three were to learn when -Caroline's turn for arranging meals came round. -Meal-times had been fixed so as to give everybody -at Chequertrees as much freedom as possible. -Breakfast was at 8 a.m. and dinner was at 6.30 p.m., -and between those hours there was sometimes lunch -at 12.30—and sometimes there was not. If the -girls were going out for the day they would get lunch -out, or take some sandwiches with them. A tea-tray, -daintily set for four, with milk, sugar, tea-pot, -spirit kettle, and a plate of cakes, was always -to be found in the drawing-room in the afternoons, -so that the girls could make a cup of tea when they -fancied it; and Martha and Ellen were thus left -free in the afternoons. This had been one of -Pamela's ideas, and had astonished Martha, who -had protested that it was no trouble for her to get -them a cup of tea; but Pamela had insisted, and -when Martha got used to the arrangement she -appreciated it very much. It was good to know -that the whole afternoon was her own, and that -she would not be disturbed. A glass of hot milk -just before bedtime was the last meal of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the end of January the four girls had settled -down fairly comfortably in their new surroundings. -Isobel had had her first dancing-lessons at the -Academy, which she enjoyed immensely, although -she had not been able to persuade one of the other -girls to join her yet. Pamela had started an -ambitious piece of work—a picture of Chequertrees, -as seen from the front garden—which she meant -to work on from time to time whenever the weather -did not tempt her to go farther afield than the -garden; she wanted to take a picture of -Chequertrees home with her, so that Mother and Michael -could see what the house was like—the house -where she had spent six months away from them. -Beryl had kept up her practice each day, and spent -a good deal of time studying books on theory, -composition, and the biographies of great musicians. -And Caroline had finished her handkerchiefs and -had started on a linen brush and comb bag.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening after dinner the four girls were in -the drawing-room, Pamela deeply engrossed in a -historical story, Beryl copying some music into a -manuscript music-book, Caroline sewing as usual, -and Isobel reclining on the couch by the crackling -fire and dividing her time between yawning and -glancing at the </span><em class="italics">Barrowfield Observer</em><span>; presently -she gave an exclamation of surprise, and sat up, -rustling the paper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen to this, girls!" she cried. "The local -newsrag informs its readers that Sir Henry and -Lady Prior and family return to the Manor House -next week, and that Lady Prior wishes it stated -that the annual bazaar and garden fête (in aid of -the Barrowfield Cottage Hospital) will be held as -usual at the end of May, and that those who intend -making gifts for the stalls at the bazaar should send -in their names to her ladyship's secretary, Miss -Daleham, as soon as possible. That's where </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> -come in!" Isobel continued. "That will be the -best way to introduce myself to their notice.... -So they'll be coming back to the Manor House -next week, will they? Isn't it ripping?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I love bazaars," said Caroline, slowly and with -relish; she saw in her mind's eye a vista of neatly -hemmed handkerchiefs, with initials worked in the -corners; plump pin-cushions, dorothy bags, -hair-tidies, cushion covers with frills, tea-cosies, all -worked by hand. Already she could see these -things spread alluringly out on a stall for sale, with -neat little tickets stuck on them. "I'll send in -my name to make something," she added.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She did not see Isobel frown as she picked up -her newspaper again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bazaars," said Pamela over the top of her book, -"I don't like bazaars. They are places where you -get the least value for the greatest amount of money -spent. I'd always rather give my money willingly -to any good cause or fund—rather than buy -something I didn't want at a price it wasn't worth—just -so that I could </span><em class="italics">see</em><span> something for the money I was -giving in this roundabout way to a deserving object."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline gazed at her in astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think bazaars are splendid things for helping -charities," she said slowly. "I don't think of -them as you do——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, what does it matter about the bazaar," -broke in Isobel. "What really matters to me is -that it's a chance to make the acquaintance of my -probable relatives. I wonder if there are any -daughters in the family about my age?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Caroline, who was not attending to Isobel -for the moment, threaded another needle, and went -steadily on with her line of argument.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"People buy much more at a bazaar than they -would in the usual way," she informed Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And they pay much more than they would in -the usual way," laughed Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And so more money is collected for the charity," -urged Caroline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I doubt it," said Pamela. "You think of all -the time and money spent in the making of the -articles for the stalls—and the arrangements and -correspondence in connection with the bazaar. -Now if the cost of all that were put into one side -of the scales, and the amount of money taken at -the bazaar put into the other side of the scales, I -think I know which side would weigh heavier."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," Caroline shook her head; "I don't think -you do. Each person who helps gives a little time -and money to the making of the things, which -are afterward sold all together for a substantial -sum. It seems to me a very good way to raise money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it's such a wasteful system," objected -Pamela. "If people gave what money they could -spare straight to the good cause they wished to -benefit, and then spent their time on doing more -useful work than stuffing pin-cushions and writing -out tickets for bazaars, I'm sure it would be more -practical."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But people won't do things that way," said -Beryl, joining in for the first time. "Though I -quite agree with you, Pamela, in disliking bazaars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyway," said Isobel, impatiently, because she -had again lost the reins of the conversation, -"although I don't care 'tuppence' about bazaars, -one way or the other, I'm going to this one for -reasons I've already stated. You see I'm quite -honest about it—I only want an excuse for meeting -my long-lost, or perhaps I should say new-found, -relations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, looking across at Isobel, suddenly realized -something, and marvelled that it had not occurred -to her before; maybe it was because she had not -paid much attention to Isobel's chatter about -Lady Prior—had not taken it seriously; but now -that she heard the Priors were returning, and that -Isobel was going to take the first opportunity of -meeting them, she cried impulsively,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Isobel, you </span><em class="italics">can't</em><span>! Don't you remember -that we all had to promise Miss Crabingway not -to visit or invite to this house 'any relations -whatsoever'!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A look of dismay flashed across Isobel's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," her voice dropped in quick disappointment; -but the next moment she recovered. "But -perhaps they're not my relatives after all," she -said, hardly knowing whether she wished they -were or were not. "Oh, bother those silly old -restrictions!" she cried irritably. "But what can -I do? How can I find out if they are my relatives -or not unless I meet them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela thought awhile. "Well—appoint a -deputy—some one to go and find out for you," she -suggested, half sorry for Isobel on account of her -obvious disappointment, and half amused at her -keenness to claim relationship with these titled -folk of the neighbourhood. Pamela felt sure that -Isobel would not dream of trying to claim kinship -with the village bootmaker, or grocer, if his name -happened to be Prior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Pamela's suggestion did not suit Isobel at -all; half the excitement would be lost if some one -else had all the introductory moves to do. "Oh, -I don't think Miss Crabingway's silly old rule -could possibly apply to Lady Prior," said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why not?" asked Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—you see—it's different somehow—you see -they are strangers to me at present, even if they -</span><em class="italics">are</em><span> my relatives. And I can't see how it would -matter if I get to know them. Miss Crabingway -must mean relatives one already knows."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not necessarily, I'm afraid," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what shall I do?" asked Isobel, blankly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you are really anxious to settle the matter, -I'm afraid a deputy is the only course open to you. -Of course, if they are your relations you must simply -ignore them; if they're not, you can cultivate their -acquaintance or not, just as you like," Pamela said, -trying her best to be helpful to Isobel, as she could -see the problem appeared to be of great moment -to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but I couldn't ignore Lady Prior in any -case, could I?" said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must settle that matter yourself," replied -Pamela, quietly. "But I think it would be -breaking your word to Miss Crabingway if you visit -'any relations whatsoever.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel was quiet for a while, thinking the matter over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Um! Well, I'll have to see," she said presently, -and fell silent again, making plans for the -future.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other three resumed their occupations, and -for a while there were no sounds in the room but the -rustle of paper, the scratching of a pen, and the -little plucking noise of Caroline's needle as it moved -in and out of the stiff linen she was sewing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by Beryl got up and went out of the room -to fetch another sheet of music from her box -upstairs. This interruption caused Isobel to break -silence again by making several remarks to Caroline -concerning Beryl's attire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And why ever she wears such short-sleeved -blouses this cold weather, I'm sure I don't know," -she ended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They don't look like new ones. Perhaps she's -had them some time," suggested Caroline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Certainly the style looks a bit out of date," -said Isobel, laughing. "I wonder her people didn't -get her some new ones when they knew she was -coming here, instead of sending her in old-fashioned -things like that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, deep in her book, became suddenly -aware of the turn the conversation had taken, and -fearing Beryl might return and overhear (because -Isobel was thoughtlessly talking in her usual clear, -penetrating voice), she clapped her book to, and -jumped up, saying:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you say to a tune—and, oh, I know—a -little dance—to tire us out before we go to bed. -May I have the pleasure, mam'selle? Get up, -Isobel, I want to push the couch out of the way -to make more room. Come and show us what you -learnt at Madame Clarence's on Friday?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel, welcoming any diversion for a change, -willingly helped to push the furniture out of -the way, and very soon she was waltzing round -the room to the strains of a haunting melody -that Pamela was playing on the piano. Caroline, -although she protested that she could not dance, -was made to join in by Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll show you, come on!" Isobel insisted; and -to the accompaniment of Pamela's tune and much -laughter and joking from Isobel (all of which -Caroline took very good-temperedly), Caroline was -piloted round the room, moving ponderously and -ungracefully in the mazes of a waltz.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course you're not </span><em class="italics">obliged</em><span> to dance on my -feet, dear child," groaned Isobel, laughingly. "It -would make a little variety for you if you danced -on the carpet just </span><em class="italics">occasionally</em><span>, you know. Take -care, you'll knock that chair over! Look out, -Pamela, we're coming past you!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was to this laughing, animated scene that -Beryl returned. Pamela, looking over her shoulder, -took a hurried glance at Beryl's face, and was -satisfied. "I'm so glad. She didn't overhear Isobel -then," she thought. But Pamela was wrong.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Beryl, having had time to cool her -tell-tale cheeks before she came in, joined in now -as if quite unconscious; and when, presently, -Ellen appeared with four glasses of hot milk on a -tray (followed by Martha, who was curious to see -what was going on), Beryl was playing a lively Irish -jig on the piano, and Pamela and Isobel were -dancing furiously in the middle of the room; while -Caroline sat gasping on the couch, fanning herself -with the </span><em class="italics">Barrowfield Observer</em><span>, and recovering -from the polka Isobel had just been trying to -teach her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I like to see young things dance and enjoy -theirselves," observed Martha, as she and Ellen -stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a long time since there was any dancing in -this house," said Ellen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yet what's nicer!" replied Martha, beaming into the room.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="pamela-befriends-beryl-and-meets-elizabeth-bagg"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER X</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PAMELA BEFRIENDS BERYL AND MEETS ELIZABETH BAGG</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On looking back at the first months' -happenings at Barrowfield, there were two -incidents that always stood out clearly -from all the rest in Pamela's mind; they made -a deep impression on her at the time, and afterward -influenced her actions considerably. The first of -these incidents was the confession Beryl made to -her; and the second, the beginning of her friendship -with Elizabeth Bagg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Passing Beryl's door on her way to bed one night -Pamela caught the sound of sobbing. She stood -still, listening; the sounds were faint, but -unmistakable. What should she do? She hesitated -for a moment, then tapped on the door; then, as no -one answered, and the sobbing continued without -a break, Pamela turned the handle and went in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A candle on the dressing-table lighted up the -figure of Beryl, still fully dressed, stretched on the -bed, her face buried in the pillows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Beryl! Beryl! What's the matter? -Can I help you, dear?" Pamela closed the door, -and, crossing the room, laid her hand on Beryl's -shaking shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl sprang up as if she had been shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! I didn't hear anybody—Oh! Pamela!" -and she burst out crying again—not noisily, but in -an intense, quiet way, that frightened Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ill, Beryl? Shall I go and fetch -Martha?" she asked anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl shook her head. "No, no," she sobbed. -"I—I'll be all right—in a—in a minute. Wait -a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela waited patiently, sitting on the edge of -the bed, her arm round Beryl's shoulders. "Poor -old girl," she said once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently Beryl became calmer, and began to -murmur apologetically,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's so silly of me. I'm so sorry if I gave you -a start—I didn't hear you come in—I thought -I'd locked the door—and I couldn't help crying -again when I saw you—I was all worked up -so. Please forgive me—being so silly—only—only -I was so miserable." And here the tears -began afresh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't, Beryl, you'll make yourself ill if you -cry like that. I wish I could help you— What -is it? Won't you tell me? </span><em class="italics">Do</em><span> trust me, if it's -anything I can help you in—I would be so glad -to help you. Do tell me what it is," urged Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Beryl felt inclined to prevaricate, -and say that she was merely overtired, or depressed, -and so account for the fit of crying; but the longing -to share her troubles with some one—and that -some one the most sympathetic person she knew -at present—conquered her usual reticence. She -feared losing Pamela's respect, and yet she felt as -if Pamela would somehow understand her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it that you're longing to go home?" asked -Pamela kindly, quite unprepared for the emphasis -with which Beryl replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, </span><em class="italics">no</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe I know," said Pamela, remembering -one or two occasions recently in which Isobel -figured as the cause of discomfiture to Beryl. -"Some one has been bothering you about things -that don't concern them in the least.... I -shouldn't mind about that if I were you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must think it silly of me—I wish I didn't -care—and I don't really," Beryl explained in a -confused way. "I care much more what you -think about me than I do what Isobel thinks about -me. It's what </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> do, when she keeps questioning -me, that upsets me." Beryl paused, and rubbed -her eyes with her handkerchief, then said suddenly, -"When she bothers me with questions I—it makes -me tell </span><em class="italics">lies</em><span>! ... And, oh, Pamela," she sobbed, -"I do </span><em class="italics">hate</em><span> myself for doing it." She went on to -explain more fully, pausing every now and again -to dab her eyes, or blow her nose, or cry a little bit -more; and Pamela, piecing the broken sentences -together, began to understand what had been taking -place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's always asking me about my school—and -I haven't told her the truth about that," said Beryl. -"When father and mother died, and left me in the -charge of my aunt, aunt was not able to afford much -for me, so she sent me to a </span><em class="italics">council</em><span> school. That's -where I was educated! And I haven't the courage -to tell Isobel this, because she might despise me, -as she seems to despise all people who have been -to such schools. I know it's stupid of me, and I -despise myself for being afraid to tell her. But -having once said I'd been to another sort of school -I have to keep on inventing things about it—about -a place I've never been to—and I feel so horrid all -the time.... And then, she ridicules my clothes—I -know she does—and I can't help it—I haven't -any others at present; some that I wear are my -cousin's left-off ones—I'd never have chosen them -myself.... Then she's always asking about my—my -father and mother—and the aunt I lived with, -after they died.... Aunt Laura keeps a little -shop in Enfield, where her daughter—Cousin -Laura—helps her to serve behind the counter. -And I haven't told Isobel this because she always -speaks of 'shop-people' with such contempt.... -We lived very roughly at Enfield, and Aunt Laura -was always shouting, and I couldn't bear the -slovenly way we had meals. Oh, I've hated it -all, and hated having it always thrust before my -mind by Isobel's questions, and hated myself for -deceiving everybody. I've felt all the time as if -I've been out of place—pretending to be used to -a nicely-kept household, when I'm not.... I've -sometimes almost wished that Miss Crabingway -had never invited me here—and yet, I love being -here.... Oh, I'm sure you'll think I'm ridiculous -for making such a fuss about these things, but you -can't think what a lot I've </span><em class="italics">felt</em><span> them—and how -I've dreaded Isobel finding out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl paused. "But most of all I've dreaded—" -she began, and then stopped, "I've dreaded—" she -was having great difficulty in getting her words -out now, "I've—dreaded—her knowing—about my -father. He—he died—in </span><em class="italics">prison</em><span>." She was not -crying now, but gazing with wide, frightened eyes -into Pamela's face. "I </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> tell you—I </span><em class="italics">must</em><span> tell -you the rest—it wouldn't be fair not to. Wait a -minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl put her hand inside her blouse and drew -out a little key attached to a long black cord; -scrambling hurriedly to her feet she went across to -a drawer in the dressing-table and brought out a -small black box; she unlocked this, and quickly -found what she wanted. It was a letter, written -in faint, thin writing, which she brought over and -placed in Pamela's hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Read it," said Beryl, and stood holding the -lighted candle just behind Pamela's shoulder so -that she could see to read the following letter:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>MY DEAR LITTLE DAUGHTER,</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Some day, in the distant future, you may -hear cruel things said about your father—things that -may not only be cruel, but false as well, and which -will cause you much suffering. The truth is cruel, -but I am going to tell you the truth now, so that -you will know all there is to know, and will not suffer -unnecessarily. I wish for your sake that my life -could be spared until you had grown to years of -understanding, but this I know cannot be.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As I write this you are playing happily on the rug -at my feet—such a little thing you are—my poor -little daughter. And you are laughing.... It makes -my heart ache to think that when you are old enough -to read this letter, and understand, you may be -crying—and I shall not be near to comfort you.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But we must face things bravely, my dear.... -Your father is dead. He died two months ago -in prison. They told me it was pneumonia, but I -know that it was because his heart was broken. -(People can die of broken hearts, you know, Beryl.) -When he died he was serving a term of imprisonment -for embezzlement; he stole a large sum of money -from his employers—hoping to be able to pay it back -before it was missed, he said; but he was not able -to do this. Never believe that he was a wicked man, -your father; he was tempted—and he could not -resist. He had been with the same firm for many -years, and large sums of money passed through his -hands each month. At home there were debts to -pay—I was ill, and you had been ill—and illness -uses up so much money; and your father's salary -was not over-high, although his position was a -responsible one. You can see how it happened—how, -when an opportunity occurred when he could -easily borrow the money, the temptation was too -much for him....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His employers were very hard on him, in spite of -his long and honourable years of service with -them—and he died in prison.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That is all. And if, in the future, you hear additions -to this story, do not believe them, little -daughter—they are not true.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Your father was a good man, in my eyes, in spite -of everything. Remember, he did it for us—so that -you and I might live and get well and strong. For -me, it was useless.... I know I am dying now. For -you—I am praying for you....</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="id1"><span>Pamela read the signature of Beryl's mother -through a blur of tears. She was not a girl who -cried easily, and she bit her underlip in an effort -to stop it quivering; but the tears forced their -way into her eyes so that she dared not look up -at Beryl for a moment. She stared instead at the -old letter in her hands—the letter written over -fourteen years ago, seeing nothing but the white -sheet of paper glimmering through her tears. She -did not realize that Beryl was waiting in an agony -of suspense for her to speak, until she looked up -at length and saw Beryl's face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Beryl," was all she could say. And the -next moment she had flung her arms round Beryl, -and both girls were crying together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see," said Beryl, after a while, "it isn't -that I'm ashamed of my father—oh, it </span><em class="italics">isn't</em><span> that, -but I couldn't ever explain to Isobel—I couldn't -talk to her about him at all—she'd be all out of -sympathy, and she wouldn't understand a bit.... -you understand how I mean, Pamela, don't -you? ... I've never shown this letter to anyone but -you. It was left to me—locked up in an old box -with some other things from my mother, with -instructions that I was to open it on my fourteenth -birthday.... I can't tell you how I felt when I -first read it—it came just at a time when I was -needing it badly.... But I wouldn't show it to -Isobel for anything—you do understand, Pamela?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I understand," said Pamela gently. -"But, Beryl, dear, about your school, and the other -things, you've let the thought of Isobel's opinion -gain an unreasonable power over you—and you -said just now you didn't really mind what she -thought of you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I know," said Beryl, tearfully. "It's -all been so silly, and it seems sillier when it's talked -of even than when I only thought about it.... -Pamela, do you—do you despise me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course I don't," replied Pamela promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not for anything?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not for anything, you old silly," said Pamela. -"And now, look here, I want us to make a plan -together. I was just wondering—what would be -the best thing for you to do about Isobel!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, we've all got to go on living under this -roof together for five more months, and you can't -go on being worried and miserable and dreading -things all that time! Besides, there's no need. -We might just as well all be comfortable together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you think I'd better do?" asked -Beryl. "You see, I can't let Isobel know that -I've been telling her stories all the time—I can't -tell her the truth now. Besides," Beryl's voice -was indignant, "what business is it of hers? She -shouldn't question me like she does."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course she shouldn't," agreed Pamela. -"But I'm sure it's done thoughtlessly. She -doesn't understand a bit; if she did, she'd be a -deal more kindly. She's not a bad sort really, you -know, Beryl. I've met several girls like her—I -think it's the fault of her upbringing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She can make people feel so </span><em class="italics">small</em><span> sometimes, -just by the tone of her voice," said Beryl. "Oh, -it's hateful! I—I couldn't bear it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look here," said Pamela, "I'll speak to her, -if you like—just give her a hint not to bother you -with questions. I won't tell her anything you -don't want me to. Will you leave it to me—and -trust me not to say too much?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Pamela, it is kind of you. If only you -would— Of course I trust you— Just tell her -what you think best.... Only I can't help -feeling a coward for not facing things myself...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right. It's easier to do it for another -person than it is for oneself," said Pamela. "And -now you must go to sleep—you'll look all washed -out in the morning if you don't. And, remember, -we've got to </span><em class="italics">enjoy</em><span> our stay in this house—let's -get all the fun out of it we can, shall we? ... Don't -worry any more about Isobel—it'll be all -right, you just see! ... Good-night, Beryl. -And—Beryl—thank you for showing me your mother's -letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Pamela had gone Beryl cried a little more, -but they were a different kind of tears this time, -because she had found a friend, and her heart was -full of gratitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this Pamela took the first opportunity -that occurred to speak with Isobel alone. She was -not quite sure of the best way to deal with Isobel, -but decided on the whole it would be best to tell -her quite straightforwardly as much as she meant -to tell her—arouse her sympathy and interest, -but not her suspicions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I say, Isobel," she began, "I know something -that I think you will be interested to hear—about -Beryl."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel pricked up her ears immediately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know you were wondering why she wore -that short-sleeved silk blouse?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied Isobel, smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You remember it amused you because it was -unsuitable?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," Isobel assented, and laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Beryl only possesses two blouses in the -world, at present—that silk one and another one; -she wears them in turn, poor kiddy—and hates -them both.... Her aunt, with whom she lived, -chose them for her. She hasn't got any others, -though she's going to buy some with her -pocket-money now. She's very sensitive about her -clothes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh," said Isobel, looking puzzled; she wondered -how Pamela meant her to take the information.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said Pamela, looking straight into -Isobel's eyes, so that Isobel presently began to -feel vaguely uncomfortable, "I believe she has an -idea that you laugh at them—and it hurts her. -So I thought I'd tell you, because I know you -wouldn't want to purposely hurt her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, of course not. I didn't know—" began Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She's had rather a rough time on the whole—losing -her mother and father, and being brought -up by an aunt with whom she is obviously not in -sympathy——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, from what she's told me, I don't think -she's had a particularly rough time," Isobel -interrupted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She makes light of it, no doubt," Pamela replied. -"But all the same she's not had a particularly -happy time, and I would like her to be happy while -she is here with us, wouldn't you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, of course," agreed Isobel. "Why -shouldn't she?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She tries to put her unhappy life behind her, -but—well, you know, Isobel, you keep reminding -her of it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">I</em><span> keep reminding her! What do you mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I found her crying last night because you kept -worrying her with questions," said Pamela bluntly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel flushed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good gracious! How ridiculous! But I only -ask her ordinary questions. Why should she mind -that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're questions about the past unhappy -life with her aunt—a time she wants to forget. -You keep reviving it. And if she wants to forget—we -have no right to force her to remember, have we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course not," said Isobel, haughtily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't mean to tell you about her crying, at -first—but I guessed if you knew you wouldn't let -it happen again. It was only because you didn't -know. Where she went to school, what she did -at her aunt's, where she bought her clothes—things -like that don't really concern any of us——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if there's nothing to hide," said Isobel -suddenly. "But it seems as if there is something -in Beryl's case—and so she won't talk about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why on earth should there be anything to -hide! If she's been unhappy—why should she -wish to talk about it? Let her forget it. Come, -Isobel, I know you'll be a good sport, and not bother -her with any more questions. Let's give her a -happy time while she's here, shan't we? Shake -hands on it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel took Pamela's outstretched hand, but her -dignity was still a little ruffled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beryl seems to have made a lot of fuss—if -there's nothing to hide," she said in a slightly -offended tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, she's only extra sensitive.... Why ever -should there be anything to hide!" repeated -Pamela, feeling as if she had not been quite -successful in convincing Isobel. "It's only that -she's been unhappy—and she's been poor. Lack -of money makes such a difference in one's confidence -in one's self. It oughtn't to—but it does," she -ruminated. "Anyway, you won't ask her any more -questions, will you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shouldn't think of doing so—after what you've -told me," Isobel replied coldly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks so much," said Pamela, with genuine -warmth. "We'll give her a real happy time while -she's here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And if Beryl's happiness had lain in the hands -of these two girls, it would have been assured during -the next few months. But, unfortunately, there -was a third person in Barrowfield whose hands were -to play an unexpected part in the future happiness -of Beryl.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A black kitten was responsible for introducing -Pamela to Elizabeth Bagg. Pamela found the -kitten crying in a field—a soft, purry, rather -frightened little kitten, that had lost its way. -Pamela picked it up, and made inquiries about -it in the village. No one seemed to own it, nor -recognize it, at first; and then Aggie Jones, who -was leaning out of her door as usual, said she -believed it belonged to the Baggs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Pamela went up the little lane by the blacksmith's -to inquire. She soon became aware of the -vicinity of 'Alice Maud Villa.' As she walked -along the lane her ears caught the sound of -laughter and the shouting of children's voices, -which proceeded from a small house on the -right-hand side; also Pamela's nose informed her that -a delicious smell of boiling toffee came from the -same quarter. Then she came to the house, and -saw the name painted over the doorway. It was -a very clean-looking little house, with brightly -polished door-knocker and letter-box, and the -curtains were fresh and dainty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela knocked several times before anyone -heard her, the noise inside the house being so great. -Then the door was flung open and a swarm of little -Baggs and a strong smell of cooked toffee came -out to greet her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The return of the kitten was hailed with joy, and -Pamela, though glad to find its home, watched -anxiously to see that the children did not pull the -kitten about nor tease it. Pamela was very fond -of animals, and had found the absence of a cat or -a dog at Chequertrees very strange. She watched -the little black kitten, and saw that it did not seem -at all afraid of the children, and that, on the other -hand, the children handled it very carefully, in -the way that only children who have a real love -for animals can handle a kitten. Pamela was -relieved to notice this; she knew too many cases where -a kitten had been thoughtlessly kept "for the -children to play with," a practice she thought most -bad for the children, who were not taught to treat -animals kindly, and most cruel for the little teased -kittens. However, there was nothing to worry -over in this case, and when, a moment later, -Elizabeth Bagg, in a holland overall, appeared in -the doorway, Pamela, glancing at her pale, strong -face, felt she understood why the children behaved -gently to the kitten. There would be no thoughtless -cruelty in the house Elizabeth Bagg ruled over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had a kindly face, with clear grey eyes and -a frank expression. It was strange that with such -different features, and with so pale a complexion, -she yet had a strong resemblance to her ruddy-faced -brother, the cabman. Her voice and manners, -though, were entirely unlike his. Her hair, -which was jet black, was parted in the centre and -brushed smoothly down each side of her face, and -coiled in one thick plait round her head; it was -a quaint style, rather severe, but it suited Elizabeth -Bagg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela explained about the kitten, and then -introduced herself, mentioning that she was staying -at Chequertrees, and then, as was her usual way, -plunged straight to the point that interested her -most.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been wanting very much to meet you," -Pamela said, "because I hear that you are an -artist. I do a little sketching myself, and I'm -awfully interested in anyone who paints. Would -you—would you think it very impertinent on -my part if I asked to see some of your pictures. -I should </span><em class="italics">love</em><span> to, if you don't mind—but only -when it suits you, of course—not now, if you're busy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A faint pink had crept into Elizabeth Bagg's cheeks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should be pleased to show you some of my -work," she said courteously. She spoke in a queer, -stiff little way, so that until one knew her it was -hard to understand exactly how she felt about -anything.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, for instance, was not at all sure whether -Elizabeth Bagg was pleased by her request or -resented it. Whereas Elizabeth Bagg was really more -astonished than anything else, though certainly -pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you please come in," Elizabeth continued. -"I'm not busy at present. The children -and I have just finished making some toffee. I -promised them last week that we should make -some to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If they were very good, I suppose?" Pamela -smiled down at the six little Baggs, who were -standing round, gazing with open-mouthed interest -at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," replied Elizabeth, to Pamela's surprise; -"I had promised it them in any case."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It smells delicious, anyway," said Pamela, not -knowing quite what to reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Would you like some when it's cool?" asked -the little Bagg girl, who was least shy and most -generous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you can spare a little bit—yes, I would," -laughed Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The nutty kind—or the un-nutty kind?" -anxiously inquired the elder Bagg boy, in a thick -voice. He was rather greedy, and hoped Pamela -would say the un-nutty, as he liked the nutty sort -best himself. Fortunately she did choose the kind -he liked least, and he eyed her with more favour -than he had hitherto done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The eldest of the children, a girl, was about eleven -years old, and the youngest was about five. There -were four girls and two boys, and Pamela noticed -that they were all dressed in sensible linen -overalls—things that were strongly made and easily washed. -The children seemed to be a healthy, noisy, -happy-go-lucky little crowd; but although Pamela was -fond of children, she did not pay so much attention -to the six little Baggs on this first visit as she -did on subsequent occasions. Her attention was -centred on their aunt, and her pictures.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Elizabeth Bagg took Pamela upstairs -to her 'studio' the little Baggs disappeared into -the kitchen to watch the toffee cooling, and with -permission to break some of the toffee that -had already set into small pieces; during which -operation long and excited arguments seemed to -occur with great frequency—arguments that more -often than not ended in a scream or a howl. -Hearing which, Elizabeth Bagg would put down -the picture she was showing Pamela, and with a -muttered apology would vanish downstairs, and -restore peace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elizabeth Bagg's 'studio' was really her -bedroom, but in the daytime, when the camp-bedstead -was covered with a piece of flowered chintz, -and the rest of the bedroom furniture made -as inconspicuous as possible, the room served -very well as a workroom. The walls were -whitewashed, making a good background for Elizabeth's -pictures, which were hung thickly all around. A -few had frames—but only a few. Most of them -were without. She seemed to do all kinds of -subjects, from landscapes to quaint studies of -children, painted in a bold, unusual style. On an -easel by the window stood Elizabeth's latest study, -half finished; Pamela was surprised to see that it -was a painting of the old windmill that she -herself had tried to sketch. As Pamela stood looking -at it, she realized that there was something in -Elizabeth Bagg's work that she herself would -never be able to get. "I'm only a dabbler," -thought Pamela to herself. "This is the real thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's splendid," said Pamela aloud, gazing at -the picture with admiration. "Do you know"—she -turned impulsively to Elizabeth, who was -standing behind her—"it makes me feel as if I -want to go home, and tear up all my drawings -and start afresh. Your pictures are so—so alive. -If only I could get that </span><em class="italics">living</em><span> touch into my -work. But I feel I'll never be able to do -it—when I think of my own things—and then look -at this."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am more than double your age," said -Elizabeth Bagg steadily, though her heart was -beating rapidly at these, the first words of genuine -praise and encouragement that she had had for a -long time. "I have been working for many years -past."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's not it," said Pamela, shaking her head. -"There's something in your pictures, that if you -had not got it </span><em class="italics">in</em><span> you, no amount of practice would -produce. I can't explain any better than that—but -you know what I mean, don't you? I think -your work's fine.... Have you ever exhibited -any of your pictures anywhere?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elizabeth Bagg shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," she replied, and a tinge of colour crept -into her cheeks again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, but you </span><em class="italics">should</em><span>," said Pamela, enthusiastically, -looking at a charming study of a little -girl in a red tam-o'-shanter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela's enthusiasm affected Elizabeth Bagg -strangely. She felt suddenly much younger than -she had felt for years past. It was so long since -anyone had noticed her pictures. Her days were -spent in household duties for her brother and the -children (just as Martha had told Pamela), with -every spare half hour snatched for her painting. -Some days, when she knew there would be no half -hour to spare, Elizabeth would get up very early -in the morning to continue a picture, and would -feel all the fresher to face the work afterward, -knowing that her picture was progressing, surely -if slowly. Twice a week she gave painting lessons -at a 'School for the Daughters of Gentlemen' -in Inchmoor, a practice at which her brother -had ceased to grumble when he found it brought -her in a few shillings a week. He considered her -'daubing' a fearful waste of time; she had far -better be employed in making a tasty apple-pie -or mending the children's stockings, he thought—work -for which Elizabeth received her 'board -and lodging.' Old Tom Bagg flattered himself that -he was good-naturedly indulgent to Elizabeth's -little hobby, nevertheless Pamela noticed that -there were no pictures of Elizabeth's anywhere -about the house—they were all packed away in her -own room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela did not know of the gratitude Elizabeth -felt toward her; she only knew that she admired -Elizabeth's pictures immensely, and felt a keen -interest in the painter of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Elizabeth said she would like very much to -see some of Pamela's work, Pamela arranged to -bring some round the following day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so the friendship began.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When Pamela reached Chequertrees that evening -she wrote a long post-card home—for the first -month was just ended. Surely there was never -a card with so much written on it before—unless -it was the card she received from home the -following day, telling her that all was well at -Oldminster.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-wishing-well"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE WISHING WELL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For a while things settled down into smoothly -running order. Now that the first month -had passed the days seemed to slip by -in an amazing fashion—as they generally do after -the newness of strange surroundings has worn off. -The four girls got on very well together on the -whole; of course, there were occasional little -breezes—which was only natural considering that -four such different temperaments were thrown -constantly into each other's society; but the breezes -never gathered into a tempest, and always, before -long, the sun was out again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the breezes sprang up during the sixth -week on account of a protest Isobel made regarding -Caroline's choice of puddings. It was Caroline's -turn again to arrange the week's meals, and it must -certainly be admitted that to choose suet roly-poly -on Monday and Thursday, apple dumplings on -Tuesday, and boiled treacle roll on Wednesday and -Friday, was, to say the least of it, asking for trouble. -But when on the Saturday a solidly substantial -Christmas pudding appeared, it was too much -for Isobel, and she protested vigorously at the -stodginess of Caroline's puddings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline, looking up from the solid slice of -pudding on her plate, took the remarks badly, and -after a few sullen replies got decidedly annoyed. -She was making the most of her week, she said, -because she knew she would not get another -pudding worth calling a pudding until her turn came -round again. Even the glories of Isobel's elaborate -puddings—with cream and crystallized cherries on -top—had failed to rouse any enthusiasm in Caroline. -Those kinds of pudding were all right to look at, -but they had 'no insides' to them, commented -Caroline, as she passed her plate for a third helping -of Christmas pudding.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha's patience and willingness in making the -various kinds of pudding chosen were things to be -marvelled at; but she seemed to take great pride -and pleasure in showing her skill at cooking -whatever the girls required. To be sure, there was no -lack of praise for her from the four girls, who -thoroughly appreciated her efforts to do her best -for them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It always does me good to go and have a -talk with Martha," Pamela would say. "She's so -cheerful—and so willing and unselfish. Nothing -is any trouble to her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha never demurred at nor criticized any of -the puddings chosen—not even Caroline's -recurring choice of roly-polies, though she looked a -trifle anxious and made them as light as possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And on Friday we'll have boiled treacle roll," -Caroline had informed her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what's nicer!" Martha had replied, unaware -of the chorus of muffled groans on the other side -of the kitchen door, as three girls, rolling their -eyes in an exaggerated manner, crept stealthily -away along the passage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then on the Saturday had come Isobel's protest. -Caroline maintained that she had a right to choose -any puddings she liked during her week, and while -quite agreeing with her as to this point, Pamela -mentioned that she thought it would be more -considerate of Caroline if she would make her choice -a little less 'suety.' They discussed the matter -thoroughly, and finally came to an agreement, -Caroline undertaking to vary her choice if the others -promised to have the kind of pudding that was -</span><em class="italics">really</em><span> a pudding on one day in each week. And -so matters were arranged and the breeze blew over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In spite of lack of encouragement or interest from -the others, Caroline had sent in her name to Lady -Prior's secretary as one who was willing to make -things for the bazaar. And there had followed -a day when two ladies of the organizing committee -had called to see Caroline to talk about the articles -that were most needed for the various stalls. It -was a blissfully important day for Caroline, and -she had dreams that night of crocheted cosy-covers, -and little pink silk pin-cushions, and afterward, -until the bazaar took place, was scarcely ever seen -without knitting-needles or sewing of some kind -or other in her hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two committee ladies were both very large -ladies, and were so well wrapped up in cloaks and -scarves for motoring that they looked even larger -than they really were. They drove up to the front -gate in a very large motor car, and being ushered -into the drawing-room by the respectful Ellen, -both sat down on the small couch, which they -succeeded in completely obscuring. They were both -exceedingly amiable, and discussed matters in rather -loud and assured voices with the bashful Caroline, -who not only promised to make a number of things -for the bazaar, but was eventually persuaded to -preside at one of the stalls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the stall-holders are to wear Japanese -costumes. A charming idea, don't you think -so?" smiled one of the ladies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A very, very sweet idea," said the other. "Of -course, there will be no bother of getting the -costumes ready; we are arranging to hire a number -for the day. You'll have to come up and choose -which one you like when the time draws near."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline smiled, and said she thought it a nice -idea. Fortunately, the fact that the Japanese -style, with chrysanthemums in her hair, would -not suit her in the least did not occur to Caroline. -She was not a vain girl with regard to her -appearance, though she was rather proud of her -accomplishments in the sewing line.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when Isobel heard about the Japanese -costume for Caroline she nearly suffocated herself -with laughter at the picture her mind's eye -presented her with of solemn Caroline in a butterfly -kimono and chrysanthemums pinned coquettishly -above each ear. However, Caroline was not within -hearing when Isobel learnt the news from Beryl, -so no harm was done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel would have liked to join in the bazaar -herself, but until she knew for certain about her -relationship with the family at the Manor House, -she decided that it was better not to lay herself -open to the chance of meeting Lady Prior. Of -course she had questioned Martha about the Priors, -but nothing Martha could tell her shed any light -on the Priors' connexions, as Sir Henry was -practically a new-comer to Barrowfield, having bought -the Manor House on the death of the late owner -a few years ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a rule Martha was a useful mine of information -on people and places in Barrowfield, and many an -interesting morsel of gossip had come to the girls -through Martha.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was through her, for instance, that they first -heard of the Wishing Well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening when Pamela was showing Martha -a sketch she had made of an old barn and some -pine trees, Martha said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, that's near the top of Long Lane, isn't -it?—near where the Wishing Well is! And a -very handsome picture it makes, to be sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Wishing Well!" said Pamela. "Where's -that? It sounds exciting."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you know as you gets near the top of -Long Lane," said Martha, busily stoning raisins -into a basin that stood on the kitchen table, "on -your right hand, as you're going up, you pass a -white gate that leads into a field and an old -disused chalk quarry—there's poppies and long grass -growing all about in the summer—and there's a -few trees at the top of the field, at the head of the -scooped-out chalk-pit.... Well, a few yards inside -the gate, on your left, and almost hidden by an -overhanging hedge, is the well. You probably -wouldn't notice it if you wasn't looking for it! -But there it is, as sure as I'm sitting here, stoning -these raisins—and Ellen will tell you the same as -it's the truth I'm speaking."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And why is it called a Wishing Well?" inquired Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, there's some old story that if you was to -write a wish on a piece of paper and throw it -into the well on a moonlight night, whatever you -wished would come true," Martha chuckled. "But -I don't know as I believes it—though I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> have -a wish that way once—in my young days, mind -you——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And did it come true?" asked Pamela, -eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, no—I can't say it did," replied Martha, -"but then, according to the story it was my fault. -I ought to have kept it secret, and I went and spoke -it out to some one, not thinking like—and so it -didn't come true."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Didn't you wish again ever?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha shook her head. "You can only wish -once—according to the story ... but mind you, -I don't say there's any truth in it, one way or the -other."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But don't you know anyone else who has wished -and who has had their wish granted?" asked -Pamela, to whom the idea appealed strongly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't truthfully say I do—not for certain," -said Martha. "Though I knows several what -have </span><em class="italics">said</em><span> such and such a thing has happened -because they wished it to—down the well—and -it's their wish come true.... But how do I -know they're speaking the truth? Eh? They -mustn't tell what they've wished till it does come -true, or else it won't come true at all. And -when a thing happens, it's easy enough to say -you wished it to, isn't it? ... So you see you -can't rely on no one—not knowing how honest -they are—but can only try for yourself and see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should love to have a wish," said Pamela, -gazing thoughtfully into the glowing kitchen fire. -"I like to </span><em class="italics">believe</em><span> I believe in Wishing Wells, and -goblins and spells and enchantments and things -like that, but I'm not really sure that I </span><em class="italics">do</em><span>.... -Anyway, I think we might all go up Long Lane -on a moonlight night, and have a wish—</span><em class="italics">just in -case</em><span> it really is a Wishing Well.... I'm -sure Beryl will love the idea—they all will, I -think. You'll tell us just what to do, won't you, -Martha?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha laughed. "Yes, indeed," she said. -"But, mind you, I don't say there's anything -in it."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The outcome of this conversation was an -excursion up Long Lane a few nights later when the -moon was at the full. All four girls entered into -the spirit of the adventure in high spirits, though -Caroline rather spoilt the romantic glamour that -Pamela had conjured up by insisting on wearing -her goloshes in case she got her feet wet in the -damp grass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Caroline, how </span><em class="italics">can</em><span> you! We ought not -to speak of such things as goloshes—practical, -matter-of-fact, everyday goloshes—in the same -breath as Wishing Wells," said Pamela, in a mock -tragic voice. "But still, I suppose it's very -sensible of you," she added, laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The four girls started off up Long Lane, chatting -and laughing, each with a piece of paper and pencil -to write her wish when the well was reached. -It would be so much more romantic, Pamela said, -to write it beside the well in the moonlight, -rather than beside the dining-room table in the -gaslight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope you each know what you're going -to wish," said Isobel. "It'll be too chilly to -stand about making up our minds when we get -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long Lane stretched from the blacksmith's forge, -that stood on the same side of Barrowfield Green -as Chequertrees, past Tom Bagg's house, and up -the hill to a small inn, and a handful of scattered -cottages a mile and a half away. The lane was -set with high hedges on either side, and was a -gradual ascent all the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the girls drew near the top end, and the gate -leading to the chalk quarry came in sight, they fell -silent, each trying to put into shape the wish she -was going to write in a few minutes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The well was much as Martha had described, -though even more hidden and overgrown with -trails of creeper from a high bank of shrubs above -it than they had expected to find. Pamela was -obliged to draw the trails aside before they could -see the dark, still water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you see the moon reflected in the -water? We must make sure of that," reminded -Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Long white clouds were drifting slowly across -the face of the moon, but as they passed, and the -moon emerged again, her reflection could be seen -in the well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Pamela. "So—now—quick—let's -write our wishes and wrap a stone inside the papers -so that they'll sink—and drop them in the water -while the moon's out." She looked up overhead. -"It'll be clear for a few minutes now, but there -are more clouds coming slowly—a long way off—and -if they reach her we shall have to wait some -minutes for them to pass."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A hurried search for convenient-sized stones was -made; and then, silence, while they wrote down -their wishes, using the top bar of the white gate -as a writing-desk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was the first to finish. At first Pamela -had thought of wishing something for Michael; -then she had thought of wishing that she could -paint as well as Elizabeth Bagg; but "Michael -and I are young," she had told herself, "and we've -plenty of years to work in—but Elizabeth Bagg -is getting old, and she's losing heart—I'll wish -something for her.... I'll wish that somebody -with influence, who can appreciate Elizabeth Bagg's -artistic talent, may see some of her pictures, and -that she may soon obtain the recognition which -she well deserves." This was the gist of Pamela's -wish. Wrapping a stone inside her paper, she -threw it into the well—the moon's reflection -scattering into a hundred shimmers and ripples -as the stone splashed into the dark water and sank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel was the next ready. "I wish that I may -do nothing to forfeit my fifty pounds," she had -written, and her 'wish' followed quickly in the -track of Pamela's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a wonder Caroline was finished third; but -she knew when she started out exactly what she -was going to wish. It concerned a little matter -that had been fidgeting her careful soul for the -last two days. "I wish I may find my silver -thimble." Such was Caroline's wish, and it -journeyed down after the other two just as Beryl -finished writing hers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl had taken longer because she had had -some difficulty in framing her wish, although when -finished it seemed quite straightforward enough. -"I wish I may never have to go back and live -with Aunt Laura again," Beryl had written.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurry up, and throw yours in, Beryl—the -clouds are coming over," said Pamela, as she and -Caroline and Isobel wandered a few paces away -toward the chalk quarry. They were talking -casually together when a slight scream from Beryl -made them turn hastily round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl was running swiftly away from the well -and toward the gate, which she pushed open, and -ran into the lane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The three other girls quickly followed and soon -overtook her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Beryl! Wait a minute! Wait for us! What's -the matter?" they called as they ran.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl stopped running directly she heard their -voices, and came to a standstill. She was looking -very pale and scared as they came up to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whatever is the matter, old girl?" asked -Pamela, taking hold of Beryl's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Pamela," she said, "I had just thrown -my wish in the well, when the bush—the big -overhanging bush close above—gave a rustle, and I -heard some one laugh—such a horrid laugh—as -if some one was hiding there, watching us. I—it -gave me such a turn—I just ran—I didn't notice -where you were—I just ran for the gate, to get -away quickly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl seemed quite unnerved, and it was in vain -that the others tried to persuade her that it was -only her imagination.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall we all go back together and make sure," -suggested Pamela, not very enthusiastically it -must be owned; but the others were certain it -would not be wise to do this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It might be some horrible old tramp asleep in -the hedge," said Isobel. "No. Let's get home—it's -getting chilly—and we couldn't do any good -really by going back, could we?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So they all linked arms, and made their way -home, where Martha was waiting up for them with -a jug of hot milk.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-which-elizabeth-bagg-paints-a-picture-and-isobel-hears-some-pleasant-news"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">IN WHICH ELIZABETH BAGG PAINTS A PICTURE -<br />AND ISOBEL HEARS SOME PLEASANT NEWS</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Pamela's friendship with the Bagg family -developed rapidly, and she became a -frequent visitor to 'Alice Maud Villa'—much -to Isobel's amazement; Isobel was more than -amazed, she was scandalized.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I simply can't understand Pamela," confided -Isobel to Caroline. "What can she find in those -Baggs? Even if Elizabeth Bagg can sketch a -bit—it's no excuse; they're not the </span><em class="italics">sort</em><span> of people -Pamela should like to mix with. After all, Tom -Bagg is only the village cabman! You can't get -away from the fact, can you now? You know -what I mean—they're not Pamela's sort -somehow—I really am surprised at her taste."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Isobel never said anything like this to Pamela. -There was a certain air about Pamela at times that -even Isobel respected, an air which, in the present -case, made Isobel feel instinctively that Pamela -would not brook any interference with her friendship -with Elizabeth Bagg. So Isobel did not criticize -openly Pamela's attitude toward the Baggs; but -she criticized, and wondered, and was amazed in -private to Caroline, whenever she thought fit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were two things that Isobel was trying to -avoid. One was meeting old Silas Sluff in the -garden, and the other was, asking any more -questions of Beryl. To avoid old Silas was fairly -easy, as he seemed to be trying to keep out of her -sight as much as possible. To refrain from questioning -Beryl was hard at first, but, although at times -intensely curious about some incident or other in -connection with Beryl, Isobel remembered that she -must be a sport, and managed to keep her tongue -quiet. It needed a great effort sometimes, but -she succeeded, which must certainly be put down -to Isobel's credit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As far as Pamela was concerned Isobel's approval -or disapproval of her friendship with the Baggs -never worried her in the least. The matter never -even crossed her mind. She spent many happy -hours in Elizabeth Bagg's 'studio' watching -Elizabeth paint, or finishing a sketch of her own, -helped on by valuable hints and suggestions from -Elizabeth, who greatly encouraged Pamela in her -work; just as Pamela helped Elizabeth by her -interest and genuine admiration for Elizabeth's -painting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sometimes, when they were both at work in the -studio, Pamela would begin to argue with Elizabeth -over her attitude toward her brother Tom and his -views on her painting.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's no right to call it 'wasting time,'" Pamela -would protest. "He ought to be </span><em class="italics">made</em><span> to understand -what splendid work you are doing—valuable -work, too, if I'm not mistaken."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He doesn't care for pictures at all," Elizabeth -would reply. "And it's no good crossing him—he's -been very kind to me, you know, and has given -me a roof over my head, and food to eat; I only -have to buy my own clothes and my painting -materials out of the money I earn by teaching; -he provides everything else."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But look what you do for him in return—cooking, -washing, cleaning, and last, but by no -means least, looking after his six children for him. -How you manage to do it all I'm sure I don't know! -And yet he doesn't even recognize that the work -you love most is done up here—here in your -studio—at all odd moments of the day. And he calls -this 'wasting time.'" Pamela gave a short laugh. -"Oh, it makes me so indignant," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But her arguments were always in vain. Elizabeth -would never make the smallest attempt toward -making her brother respect her art, but would -continue to go on as usual after Pamela had left, -smiling quietly to herself at Pamela's enthusiasm -and indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"She is very young," Elizabeth would say to -herself, and then give a sigh at the remembrance -of when she herself was young and enthusiastic and -indignant, when she had dreamed of doing great -things in the world of art—long before her -sister-in-law had died, and she had come to keep house -for her brother. Then, when she was young, it -had been an invalid mother who had claimed all -her attention, so that she had never had time -nor opportunities to make friends with young people -of her own age—young people who had interests -in common with herself. She had painted and -drawn in her spare time, and had even had a couple -of terms at an art school, in the days before her -mother had become a helpless invalid. Then, -when her mother had died, it had been Elizabeth's -intention to take a room in London by herself and -set resolutely to work to earn a living by her -painting; but before this plan could be put into -execution news came that her aunt (Alice Maud) -had met with an accident, and Elizabeth was asked -to go and nurse her. She went. Elizabeth planned -many things during her life, but other people always -seemed to step in and alter the plans—and Elizabeth -allowed them to be altered, and drifted into the -new plans with little or no resistance. That was -Elizabeth's chief failing, her inability to strike -out for herself. As far as art was concerned it -was a loss, but her relatives had certainly gained -in having so willing and conscientious a worker to -look after them in their illnesses. For it was always -somebody who was ill that sent for Elizabeth. First, -her mother, then her aunt, and finally, just when -her thoughts were once again free to turn toward -the room in London, her sister-in-law had begged -her to come and look after her house and the -children as she was taken dangerously ill. So -Elizabeth came. And when her sister-in-law died -she could not find it in her heart to refuse her brother -Tom's request to stay with him and look after -his six little motherless children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elizabeth used sometimes to dream about the -wonderful room she had meant to have in London—the -room where she liked to imagine that she -would have painted pictures that would have -brought her fame and wealth. As she grew older -she began to doubt whether she ever would have -painted pictures good enough or marketable enough -even to pay for the rent of the room. She began -to regret her want of initiative—after she had met -Pamela. She regretted that she had all along -allowed her own affairs to drift. Why had she -always allowed others to rule her life, she wondered. -She had worked hard at her pictures—and then -done nothing with them when they were finished. -There were scores of them packed one on top of -the other on the shelves of a big cupboard in her -studio.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having got permission to look through this -pile of pictures one day, Pamela discovered that -Elizabeth was decidedly clever at portrait painting; -the likenesses of one or two of the village folk, -whom Pamela knew by sight, and of Tom Bagg, and -of several of the little Baggs, were very well done -indeed; and she asked Elizabeth why she did not -do more of this kind of work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't done any portraits for a long time," -was all that Elizabeth replied. "I don't know why."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The discovery of this branch of Elizabeth's skill -set Pamela thinking. Apart from his annoying -indifference to his sister's talent Tom Bagg was a -genial, good-natured, and quite likeable man, Pamela -thought. She liked him more particularly after -discovering him one evening sitting by the fire -in his living-room, smoking, and telling a long fairy -story to his children, who were gathered around -him listening, enthralled. It was only occasionally -that Daddy could be got to tell them a -story; but when he chose he could tell a very good -story indeed. Perhaps that was one of the reasons -why he was so popular at the 'Blue Boar.' Ensconced -in a chimney-corner seat in the old-fashioned -parlour of the 'Blue Boar,' he would puff away -at his pipe, and yarn to a few bosom friends and -occasional strangers for an hour at a stretch, much -to the amusement of his audience. At home he -was just as popular as a story-teller, and the children -would listen enchanted to his tales of adventure, -of fairies, and of pirates—and when he came to -the humorous parts, where he always stopped to -chuckle and shake before he told them the joke, -the children could hardly contain their impatience, -and while he paused aggravatingly to take a pull -at his pipe and chuckle again, they would shower -eager questions upon him, giving him no peace -until he resumed the tale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Elizabeth Bagg, when she was not upstairs in -her studio, would sit in a corner by the fire on -these occasions, mending stockings by firelight, and -listening to the story, glancing up now and then -at the cheerful, ruddy face of the teller, and at the -children sitting on the hearth-rug, on the arms of -his chair, and on his knees, all listening intently. -The story-telling was always done by firelight; -directly the gas was lit, it was supper and bedtime.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was present at more than one of these -story-telling evenings. Old Tom Bagg was used to -talking before strangers and new-comers, and her -presence made no difference to him. He was always -polite, and pleased to see Pamela, and never seemed -outwardly surprised at her friendship with Elizabeth, -though sometimes he would scratch the bald spot -on his head and wonder to himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first time Pamela saw the group in the firelit -room listening to the story-telling she was struck -with an idea, which she afterward communicated -to Elizabeth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It would make a simply ripping picture—and -you're so good at likenesses—I wonder you don't -do it," she urged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And, after a while, Elizabeth Bagg did do it. -She set to work up in her studio, and began on a -picture of Tom Bagg sitting in a firelit room telling -a story to the children around him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get the expression on his face when he's -chuckling," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Elizabeth watched him and caught the chuckling -expression and transmitted it to her picture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"</span><em class="italics">Absolutely</em><span>," was the delighted Pamela's verdict -when she saw it; and her enthusiasm roused -Elizabeth to put her best work into the painting, -although she had no future plans for it when it -was finished. Possibly it would have drifted finally -into the cupboard in her studio. Elizabeth, with -her tiresome lack of initiative, would have taken -no further trouble with the picture after it was -done.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Pamela had a plan for the firelight picture -which she did not mention to Elizabeth Bagg, but -waited eagerly for the completion of the painting.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Meanwhile Isobel, unable to get Pamela or Beryl -to join in having dancing-lessons with her, had -at length, much to her own surprise, prevailed on -Caroline to come to Madame Clarence's with her -twice a week. As Caroline sat over her sewing so -much, and had very little exercise, these visits to -the Dancing Academy probably did her a great deal -of good. Not that she enjoyed dancing; but being -persuaded that it was good for her health, she took -her lessons regularly and solemnly, just as she -would have taken medicine twice daily after meals -had she thought she should do so. Although -Isobel (to use her own expression) was not -'frightfully keen' on Caroline, yet she found her -useful in yet another way besides being a -companion to travel with to and from Inchmoor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Isobel heard that Sir Henry and Lady Prior -and family had returned to the Manor House, she -lived for a few days in a state of pleasurable -expectation, from which state she was presently -transported into one of intense joy. For she discovered -that the Manor House Priors actually were -connected with her—though very distantly, it must -be confessed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Caroline was the medium through whom -she learnt this eventful piece of news.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finding that Caroline was the only one of the -girls likely to get into immediate touch with Lady -Prior, through the bazaar work-party meetings -which Caroline had begun to attend, Isobel asked -her if she would take the first opportunity of -speaking to Lady Prior, and informing her that -Isobel Prior, who was staying at Chequertrees, -would have liked beyond anything to help at the -bazaar only she was afraid she was restricted from -doing so by the instructions of Miss Crabingway, -who had said that none of the girls staying at -Chequertrees were to visit or be visited by any -relations whatsoever; and Isobel thought it -possible that she might be a relation of Lady Prior's. -Of course, Isobel impressed upon Caroline that she -was to be sure to say that Miss Crabingway did not -know that this restriction of hers might apply in -any way to Lady Prior, or she would assuredly -not have made such a rule. Then Isobel asked -Caroline to explain all about Miss Crabingway's -whim, and to make matters quite clear to her -ladyship. She also wrote down for Caroline all -the facts about the Prior family-tree that she knew, -giving her father's full name, and age, and -profession, and the names of his various brothers, -cousins, uncles, and so on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this Caroline faithfully related to Lady Prior -in due course, and came back from her first -interview with the news that Lady Prior was going to -consult Sir Henry about it, and would tell Caroline -what he said at the next meeting, as she did not -know any of the Christian names of the gentlemen -Caroline had mentioned, but was quite amused -at Miss Crabingway's queer instructions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel was somewhat chilled by this news, and -wondered to herself whether the 'dowdy-looking' -Caroline had prejudiced her case in Lady Prior's -eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course, never having seen me she may think -I'm something of the same class as the friend I -choose to act as my deputy," thought Isobel to -herself, and eyed the unconscious Caroline with -secret disfavour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, Caroline returned from the next -bazaar meeting with better news. Sir Henry had -informed Lady Prior that Mr Gerald Prior of -Lancaster Gate and Ibstone House, Lower Marling, -was a third cousin of his, whom he had never seen, -though he had heard of him. This put fresh heart -into Isobel, and she went to church the following -Sunday to see what the Priors looked like—though -she took care to keep a safe distance in case any -unforeseen accident should happen, and she should -meet them. She wondered what the mater would -do under the circumstances. But, contemplating -that when the six months elapsed she would be -free to go and visit these new-found relatives, and -be fifty pounds the richer for the waiting, she -decided that it was wiser to wait, especially as -Lady Prior now knew the circumstances and would -understand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So she gazed on the Prior pew from a distance, -and noted with pride the rich and fashionable -clothes its occupants wore, and the respect the -family seemed to awaken in the other members -of the congregation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though Isobel did not want to own it, even to -herself, she was somewhat disappointed in the -facial appearance of her father's third cousin and -his family. Sir Henry himself was small and -pompous, with sandy hair and moustache, and -his broad, pinkish face was plentifully besprinkled -with freckles; he wore glasses which were rather -troublesome to keep on the flat bridge of his -wide, short nose. His eyebrows were invisible -from a distance, but his gold watch-chain and the -diamond in the gold ring on the little finger of -his right hand sparkled and glistened in the -sunshine that streamed through the stained-glass -windows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Prior was well preserved and had evidently -been pretty in her youth, but now she was -inclined to be plump, and had developed a -double-chin, and a florid complexion; her mouth was too -small for the rest of her features, making her nose -look too prominent; her eyes were large and good. -The two daughters of the house next claimed -Isobel's attention; they were upright, pleasant-looking -girls with their mother's features, but their -father's colouring—freckles included. Nevertheless -there was a certain air about them which Isobel -could find no more fitting term for than -'distinguished.' She had learnt from Caroline that -there was also a son of the house, but he was not -present that morning in church.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel gazed from afar, and then went home to -Chequertrees feeling rather out of humour with -everything and everybody because of the 'silly -whim' of Miss Crabingway's which had cut her -off from these desirable relations.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When the girls had almost completed the third -month of their stay at Chequertrees Martha -reminded them that they would possibly receive -a communication from Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne -shortly, with whom Miss Crabingway had left -instructions concerning the replenishing of the funds -of the household. Supplies were running out, Martha -said, and she hoped they would hear promptly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But several days went by and no word came -from Mr Sigglesthorne (for the very good reason -that he had forgotten all about them).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then one morning a letter posted in Scotland -arrived from Miss Emily Crabingway. It was -very brief, and merely instructed Pamela, Beryl, -Isobel, and Caroline to go up to London with -Martha on the day following the receipt of letter, -and deliver the envelope which was enclosed to -Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne at his rooms in Fig Tree -Court, Temple, E.C.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What can this mean?" said Pamela, after -she had read the letter to Martha.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha smiled and shook her head. "Unless -it is that Miss Crabingway knows what a forgetful -gentleman Mr Sigglesthorne is, and wants to give -him a shock by sending you all to remind him," -she suggested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It may as well be stated here that this was not -Martha's own idea, but one communicated to her -in a recent note from Miss Crabingway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As this would be the first journey to town that -the girls had made since they came to Barrowfield, -they were rather excited and pleased, and set about -making plans for the morrow's journey in high good -spirits; they recalled for each other's benefit their -previous meeting with Mr Sigglesthorne. It was -decided to lock up the house, as Ellen said rather -than stay at home alone all day she would go and -visit some friends in the village, who had been -begging her to come and see them for a long time, -and would meet their train at the station on their -return. This matter being satisfactorily arranged, -and time-tables consulted, clothes overlooked and -holes in gloves mended, the four girls ended the -day with another dance in the drawing-room to -celebrate their 'one day's release' from -Barrowfield, as Isobel put it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The next day was fine and warm, though a few -mackerel clouds high in the sky made it difficult -to dissuade Caroline from putting on her goloshes -and taking an umbrella. Poor Caroline, her little -fads were always being laughed at by the other -three! But she took all their remarks very -good-naturedly as a rule. Her umbrella she did -eventually abandon, reluctantly, but she took a -small canvas bag with her, which she said contained -her purse and handkerchief, and some knitting to -do in the train. But there was more in it than these -things; the bulge at the side of the bag was a -very tightly-rolled, light-weight mackintosh, and the -bulge at the bottom was the much-ridiculed goloshes. -Caroline did not explain the bulges, and the girls -were too busy with their own affairs by the time she -came downstairs with her bag to bother to tease -her any more.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so the four girls and Martha set out to visit -Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="mr-joseph-sigglesthorne-forgets-the-date"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">MR JOSEPH SIGGLESTHORNE FORGETS THE DATE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The journey to town was accomplished -swiftly and comfortably, and was enlivened -every now and then by Martha's remarks -on the changes that had come over the country -they passed through in the train since she was a -girl. She made a quaint little figure in her black -bonnet, trimmed with jet beads, and her best black -cape with the silk fringe round it, and her black -serge skirt. Her kindly grey eyes and wrinkled -face were alight with interest as she sat beaming -and chatting with Beryl and Pamela, while Caroline -steadily knitted, and Isobel in the farther corner -gazed out of the window. Although she liked Martha -well enough, she rather wished that Miss Crabingway -had sent the four of them to town alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they arrived at Marylebone station the -girls learnt to their surprise that Martha had never -been in the tube railway in her life, and was -somewhat chary and suspicious of this mode of -travelling; however, encouraged by Pamela and -Beryl, who each linked hold of one of her arms, -she was persuaded to enter the lift, which she -mistook at first for the train, until matters were -explained to her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They changed at Charing Cross on to the District -Railway and were soon at the Temple Station, and -after one or two inquiries at length found -themselves walking up Middle Temple Lane </span><em class="italics">en route</em><span> -for Fig Tree Court.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It is not one of the prettiest courts, Fig Tree -Court, although it has such a picturesque name. -There is no fig-tree growing there now, though if -there had been one Mr Sigglesthorne would not -have been able to see it, as his windows were so -begrimed with dust and dirt that nothing was -clearly visible through them. The window-cleaners, -if ever he employed them, must surely have charged -him three times the usual amount to get his windows -clean again. As for Martha, directly she set eyes -on them her hands itched to get hold of a wash-leather.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr Sigglesthorne lived on the first floor, and they -were soon outside the door with his name printed -on it in large black letters. Pamela knocked with -a double rat-tat. All was silent within for a few -moments, then the creak of an inner door and -a shuffling step could be heard. The latch clicked -and the front door was opened just enough for a -hand and arm to be thrust out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The five visitors stood gazing in silent surprise -at the open hand—a hand obviously waiting for -something to be placed in its grasp. They stood -thus, looking first at the hand and then at each -other, and Isobel was just about to laugh -outright when a voice behind the door exclaimed -impatiently:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurry up, milkman! Half-pint, as usual."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this Isobel could control herself no longer, -but burst out laughing, and the others, unable to -resist, joined in as well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This caused the door to be opened wider, and a -very shocked and surprised Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne -was revealed, who stared open-mouthed in pained -astonishment at the laughing group outside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was the first to recover herself. "Oh, -Mr Sigglesthorne," she said, "I'm so sorry—please -excuse us, but Miss Crabingway told us to come -and give you this letter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, to be sure! But please excuse me—I -was so—if I may say so—taken aback for the -moment—" stammered Mr Sigglesthorne. "But -please to step inside—step inside." He held the -door open wide.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The five visitors stepped inside as requested, -almost filling up the narrow little passage from -which the two rooms of Mr Sigglesthorne's flat -opened. Mr Sigglesthorne closed the front door, -and led the way to his living-room, begging them -all to come in and be seated. He was still rather -bewildered by the suddenness of his visitors' -appearance, and was thrown into confusion on finding -that there was only one chair in the room that -was not too rickety to be used. He handed this -with great politeness to Pamela, who promptly -passed it on to Martha, who was too respectful -to think of sitting down till all the others had found -seats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's quite all right," said Pamela. "May I sit -on this box? Thanks. It'll do splendidly. You sit -down, Martha—you'll be tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finally, an old oak chest being cleared of -numberless papers and books and brought forward for -Isobel and Caroline, and a pile of six big -Encyclopædias placed one on top of the other serving -as a seat for Beryl, Mr Sigglesthorne sat down on the -corner of the coal-scuttle, comforting himself with -the thought that things might have been worse—although -he wished he had not left his bunch of -collars on the mantelshelf. Strange that this should -have worried him, for on the whole the mantelshelf -was the least untidy part of the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha's neat and tidy soul positively ached when -she looked round Mr Sigglesthorne's living-room. -One of the first things she noticed was a big round -table in the centre of the room on which were -stacked books and papers in a litter of untidiness -and confusion; there were several bundles of -newspapers, and cardboard boot-boxes without lids, -containing a variety of interesting articles from -press-cuttings and collar-studs to india-rubber and -knots of string. On the top of the highest pile of -papers reposed Mr Sigglesthorne's top-hat. The -table was so littered that it was impossible to think -of it ever being used for any other purpose than -that of a home of refuge for old papers. Underneath -the table, partly obscured by the faded green -table-cloth that hung all aslant, was a Tate -sugar-box containing—what? Coal, probably—but -Martha could not be quite sure of that. Bookshelves -lined the walls, and here again confusion -reigned. Hardly a single book stood upright; a -few, here and there, made a faint appearance of -doing so, but for the most part they had given up -the struggle long ago and just sprawled across the -shelves anyhow—some upside down, some back to -front—separated every few yards by some useful -kitchen utensil, such as a toasting-fork, a small -hand-brush, a pepper-box, a shovel, a couple of -saucepan lids, and so on. There were no books at -all on one of the shelves, but a mass of letters and -envelopes filled the space. A broken rocking-chair -beneath one of the two windows that lighted the -room held a box of tools and Mr Sigglesthorne's -topcoat, and the desk under the other window -supported a tray with the remnants of a chop -on a plate, a cup half full of cold coffee, and -a tin of condensed milk with a spoon sticking -out of it; two inkpots and a blotting-pad, and -numerous pens, pencils, notebooks, and stacks of -papers occupied the rest of the desk. In the hearth -were a pair of old boots, a teapot, and three bundles -of firewood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It looked as if Mr Sigglesthorne was in the -habit of placing things down just wherever he -happened to be at the moment—which was handy -at the time, but caused much confusion and delay -in the long run; though it may have added a -little variety to his life to find his belongings where -he least expected them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr Sigglesthorne, with his Shakespearean forehead -shining in a distinguished manner, sat on the -coal-scuttle polishing his glasses and gazing nervously -round at his guests. His black velvet jacket, minus -a button, wanted brushing, and his dark grey -trousers were creased and baggy; altogether he -looked shabby and unimposing—except for his -forehead, which just, as it were, kept his head above -water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, if I may be permitted to see Miss -Crabingway's note?" he said. "You must excuse -my room being slightly untidy—a bachelor's -misfortune, you know, Miss Pamela."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What a lot of books you have," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you a lawyer?" asked Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heaven forbid!" said Mr Sigglesthorne. "No, -miss. But I am rather a—bookworm. Ha! Ha! -Yes, that's what I am—a bookworm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This idea seemed to afford him much private -amusement, until putting on his glasses and opening -Miss Crabingway's note his eyes fell on the contents, -and he at once became grave. It was just as if -Miss Crabingway were standing before him, speaking.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Joseph Sigglesthorne," the note ran, "so -you have forgotten, as I knew you would. There -is no excuse—I gave you three calendars, which -you have not hung on the wall, by the by, but -have stowed away out of sight—you've forgotten where."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>(This was quite true, as Mr Sigglesthorne realized, -as he stroked the back of his head and tried to recall -what he had done with the calendars.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The money I trusted you with is overdue. -Kindly hand the deal box and key to Miss Pamela -there, and ask her to take out the notes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, yes," said Mr Sigglesthorne aloud, as if -Miss Crabingway were indeed in the room waiting -for him to apologize. "Very thoughtless of me, -I'm sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It may be thought remarkable that Mr Sigglesthorne -should have remembered where the deal -box was. But Mr Sigglesthorne always remembered -where he had put money—a peculiarity of his that -Miss Crabingway knew well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And now he was full of remorse at having failed -Miss Crabingway in regard to the date—for she had -paid him well to remember. Mr Sigglesthorne's -clothes and surroundings might have led one to -think that he was none too well off, but this idea -would have been wrong—with regard to the present, -at any rate. Besides Miss Crabingway's money -payments, he had lately got some 'research' -work—this latter fact he mentioned to his visitors -with some pride, and partly to account for the piles -of papers abounding everywhere. He left them -to think this piece of news over while he retired -to another room to fetch the deal box.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he was gone Martha rolled her eyes upward, -and raised her hands in despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How I </span><em class="italics">should</em><span> like to set to and tidy up a bit -for him, poor gentleman," she sighed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's more than I'd like to do," said Isobel. -"</span><em class="italics">What</em><span> a muddle!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He'd probably be annoyed if anyone upset -his research papers," said Pamela. "But, good -gracious! I don't know how he can ever find -anything again—once he puts it down."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He probably doesn't find it again," said Isobel, -laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Caroline, with whom neatness was almost -a passion, she was fairly numbed by the scene before -her, and could only sigh deeply and shake her head. -Beryl was always shy in strange places, and, whatever -her thoughts, she kept silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr Sigglesthorne shortly returned, and with -renewed apologies for forgetting to bring the box -down to Barrowfield presented a small deal box -and key to Pamela, requesting her to open it. -Inside were a number of bank-notes, which she was -told to take out and distribute—so much to Martha -for housekeeping expenses and so much to herself -and each of the other girls for 'pocket money.' Having -done this, she signed a receipt and placed -it in the box, which Mr Sigglesthorne locked and -took away again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finding that they did not know the Temple well, -Mr Sigglesthorne insisted on putting on his coat -and top-hat and coming out with them. Pamela -protested that they did not wish to take him away -from his research work, but he vowed he would -have plenty of time if he returned within half an -hour. So he trotted beside them, talking and -waving his hand, first on one side and then the -other, giving them a very confused idea of the plan -of the Temple and its history. But, at any rate, -Mr Sigglesthorne enjoyed himself. And when he -finally left them in the Strand, with more apologies, -Pamela saw him disappear toward the Temple -again with a smile on her face that had more of -regret in it than amusement; but her regret was -evidently not shared by Isobel, who said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, thank goodness! Now we can get on, and -enjoy ourselves."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They did a round of sight-seeing to make the -most of the day in town, and had dinner at a -restaurant, where Martha, though very nervous, -was nevertheless very critical, in her own mind, -about the dishes served. She guessed she could -make better white sauce than was served at this -place, though she was curious to know how the cream -pudding was made.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls wished they had arranged to end up -the day at a theatre, but they had not thought of -this in time to let Ellen know, and she would be -at Barrowfield station waiting at nine o'clock. So -they were obliged to relinquish this idea, with -much regret.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As they turned away from the restaurant Pamela -suddenly gave a start—stood stock still for a moment, -then, bending her head, hurried on. She had -caught a glimpse of her father just getting into -a bus. The sight of him caused a great wave of -longing and home-sickness to rush over her, so that -it was all she could do to restrain herself from -running back toward him. To her embarrassment -she found that her eyes were full of tears. He -looked just the same dear old father. She had -not realized till now how badly she had wanted -to see them all at home again; she knew she had -wanted them, but had stifled the longing as much as -possible. She wondered how her mother looked—and -Michael—and the others. The post-card she -received from home each month was crammed -full of news—but even so, post-cards are very -unsatisfying things.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As her agitation became obvious to her -companions, and they inquired what was the matter -she was obliged to explain a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't realize how </span><em class="italics">badly</em><span> I wanted to see my -people again—till I saw him," she concluded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, half the time is up now," said Isobel. -"I think it was a very silly restriction of Miss -Crabingway's— But there you are! And fifty -pounds is not to be sneezed at, is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Much to every one's dismay, except Caroline's, -it now began to rain—suddenly and heavily—and -a rush was made for the nearest tube station. -Caroline hastily donned her mackintosh, and -stopping in a doorway slipped on her goloshes, before -she ran through the rain to the tube. Her -triumph was short-lived, however, because once -inside the tube they were under cover all the way -until they arrived at Barrowfield station, very -sleepy and chilly with sitting still so long in the -train.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ellen was at the station, and she had actually -brought umbrellas for them. Secretly, although -not an ill-natured girl, Caroline had half-hoped -they would have had to tramp home through the -rain—then perhaps they wouldn't have teased her -another time, she thought.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>However, under the umbrellas they walked—the -village fly being engaged elsewhere that evening, -otherwise Thomas Bagg would have been hired to -take them home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then Beryl would not have bumped into -some one—also under an umbrella—who was coming -from the village toward the station.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a rather high wind was blowing it was necessary -to hold an umbrella down close over the top of your -head, and so Beryl did not notice anyone coming -toward her till her umbrella caught against another -umbrella; both umbrellas were lifted for a -moment—and in that moment Beryl saw a woman looking -at her from under the other umbrella, a woman -who frowned and put her forefinger to her lips as -if enjoining silence.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 86%" id="figure-43"> -<span id="a-woman-who-frowned-and-put-her-forefinger-to-her-lips"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="A WOMAN WHO FROWNED AND PUT HER FOREFINGER TO HER LIPS" src="images/img-168.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">A WOMAN WHO FROWNED AND PUT HER FOREFINGER TO HER LIPS</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl stifled a scream and ran quickly forward -and joined the others, keeping as close to Pamela -as she could till they reached home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the woman, with a quick backward glance -at the receding group, continued on her way, limping -hurriedly up the hill.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="caroline-makes-a-discovery"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">CAROLINE MAKES A DISCOVERY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Pamela was just dropping off to sleep that -night when some one tapped on her bedroom -door. She roused herself, and called out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I come in a minute? It's only I—Caroline," -the answer came in a loud whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh—yes—yes—come in," she said, sitting up, -only half awake as yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline came in, a lighted candle in her hand. -She was fully dressed, and had not even untied her -hair. She looked a bit scared and puzzled. Closing -the door softly behind her she crossed to the side -of Pamela's bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm sorry to disturb you," she said solemnly, -"but I didn't think you'd be in bed yet—I haven't -even started to get undressed—I—I don't like the -look of my room!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't like the look of your room! Whatever -do you mean, Caroline?" Pamela rubbed her eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, some one's been moving things. There -are several things out of their usual places. -I—I believe somebody has been in the room while -we've been out to-day!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was wide awake now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Caroline,—you don't mean burglars? -There's nothing missing, is there? Has anything -been taken?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Not so far as I can see," replied Caroline. -"But things have been disturbed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll come in with you and have a look," said -Pamela, springing up and hastily donning dressing-gown -and slippers. "H'sh. We mustn't wake -the others unless it's necessary. They're all so -tired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't notice anything just at first," said -Caroline, as they entered her room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't notice anything now," remarked -Pamela, looking round at the neat and orderly -chamber.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait a minute," said Caroline. "Look here—" -and she pulled open one of the drawers in her -dressing-table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" said Pamela, who could see nothing -amiss with the contents of the drawer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well!" echoed Caroline rather indignantly, -"I never leave my drawers like this. See—these -gloves were folded together in that corner—and -these ribbons here—and I always keep my -handkerchiefs on top of each other at this side—These -handkerchiefs are all arranged anyhow. I </span><em class="italics">know</em><span> I -didn't leave them like this! ... And look -here—on the mantelpiece—these photo frames have been -shifted—and on this chair by the window my brown -scarf which I left folded on the seat was on the floor!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, come," said Pamela. "That might easily -have slid off. The main point is—is there anything -missing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing so far," replied Caroline. "But some -one </span><em class="italics">has</em><span> been in here moving my things—I'm certain -of it. I know just the way I always leave my -belongings. I always put them in the same places -and in the same positions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She seemed so positive that Pamela was silenced. -Anyone else but Caroline would probably not have -noticed that anything had been disturbed in their -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well—what shall we do?" said Pamela, who -really thought that Caroline was under a delusion. -She couldn't see anything wrong with the room. "If -we wake everybody up we shall only scare them—it -isn't as if you'd missed anything. That would be a -different matter. I suppose you've searched all over -the room? Of course, you've made sure there's no -one hiding here now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, yes," said Caroline; but to make doubly -sure she and Pamela searched again thoroughly. -They looked in the wardrobe, behind the wardrobe, -under the bed, behind the chest of drawers, and in -and under every likely and unlikely place in the -room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you looked in the soap-dish?" said -Pamela, jokingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Caroline did not laugh; she continued her -search solemnly. Suddenly an exclamation from -her made Pamela wheel round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just fancy that!" said Caroline, still on her -knees, after an attempt to look under the chest of -drawers—a space of about six inches from the -ground. "Look here, Pamela! Here's my silver -thimble! The one I couldn't find—under the edge -of the carpet beneath this chest of drawers. And -I've looked everywhere for it—but here. It must -have rolled off the back of the chest, and got wedged -under the carpet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What luck! The search hasn't been wasted -after all then," remarked Pamela, stifling a yawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And it is my wish come true," said Caroline -slowly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What! About the thimble! Is that what -you wished?" cried Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Caroline. "I didn't know what -else to wish—and I couldn't find my silver thimble -that my grandmother gave me—so I thought I'd -wish about that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see," said Pamela, trying hard not to -smile. "Well, your wish has come true. You -lucky girl! I only hope the rest of us are as -fortunate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After this Caroline reluctantly agreed to go to -bed, and not to bother any further about the -things in her room being disturbed until the -morning, when Pamela promised to make full -inquiries and sift the matter thoroughly. Pamela -felt fairly certain in her own mind that no one -had been in Caroline's room or she would not -have let the matter drop so easily. Both girls -being now very tired after their long day in town -they soon dropped into their beds and went off to -sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline referred to the matter over breakfast in -the morning, thereby incurring a great deal of -attention and questioning from the others—which -made her feel quite important for once in a way. -Caroline was one of those people who could not -usually attract much attention from others, as she -was unable to talk interestingly about things. But -this morning she found she was actually being -interesting; she liked the sensation, and meant to -make the most of it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Pamela and Isobel discussed the matter -with Caroline, Beryl, who had turned very white, -sat silent, her half-finished breakfast pushed on -one side; she sat stirring her tea mechanically -round and round—only breaking her silence once -to ask Caroline if she had missed anything, and -seemed relieved on hearing that Caroline had not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose nobody else's room was disturbed -in any way?" said Pamela, adding, "Mine was -all right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So was mine," said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And mine," echoed Beryl, quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we'll just go and ask Ellen if she can -throw any light on the matter, shall we?" said -Pamela. "She was the only inmate of this house -who was not up in London yesterday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Ellen was very interested, but it did not seem -as if she could help to solve the question. She -had certainly not been in the room herself; she -had left the house at the same time as they -did yesterday, and when she and Millicent -Jackson—the friend with whom she had spent the -day—had come in to fetch the umbrellas to bring to -the station in the evening, they had not been -upstairs at all. They had let themselves in at the -back door, gone straight through to the hall, taken -the umbrellas out of the stand, and gone out of -the front door. They weren't in the house five -minutes, as they were in a hurry to get to the -station in time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, Caroline!" said Isobel. "You see -nobody could have been in your room. You must -have moved the things yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Caroline shook her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Could anyone have slipped in the back door -after you—without you noticing?" she asked -Ellen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, miss! Well—I never thought of that!" -said Ellen, then hesitated. "Of course, they -could have, Miss Caroline—but it's most unlikely. -If anyone had troubled to do that they would have -taken something while they were about it, wouldn't -they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline shrugged her shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All I know is—the things in my room were -disturbed," she insisted doggedly. "And I don't -like it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How could anyone have slipped in without you -seeing, Ellen?" inquired Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Miss Pamela, to be exact," explained -Ellen, "me an' Millicent unlocked the back door -and came in, shut the door, and went into the -kitchen, where I struck a match and lit the -candle that we keep on the dresser here. We -didn't bother to light the gas as we was going -straight through, and out the front way. Me an' -Millicent was talking, interested-like, as we went -into the hall, when Millicent says, 'Oh, did you -lock the back door again?' And I says, 'Oh, -no.' And I went back and locked it.... Then -we got the umbrellas and went straight out the -front way.... Now, </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> you think anyone would -have got in just in that minute before I locked -the back door, Miss Pamela? Now </span><em class="italics">do</em><span> you, Miss -Caroline?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's just possible, of course, but not at all -likely," said Pamela. "Thanks very much, -Ellen—as nothing has been missed, I really don't -see any use in pursuing the matter further, -Caroline, do you? ... And it's such a grand -morning, let's all go for a good tramp over the -hills."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So Pamela dismissed the incident from her mind; -and Isobel, putting it down to "one of the bees in -old Caroline's bonnet," soon followed suit. Ellen -and Martha discussed the matter together, and -Ellen repeated her story to Martha several -times—each time with more emphasis than the last; -and when she next saw Millicent Jackson she -mentioned it to her, and they talked of it -until the subject was exhausted—then as nothing -further happened to make them remember it, -they too forgot it. Caroline remembered it as -a grievance for a considerable time, then the -excitement of the coming bazaar caused it to fade -into the background. The only one who did -not forget the incident was Beryl, and she had -good reason to remember it—as we shall presently see.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After the visit to London a marked change seemed -to come over Beryl; always pale and nervous, she -appeared to grow even paler and more nervous -as the days went by. At times she would emerge -from the cloud of depression which seemed so often -to envelop her now and join light-heartedly in -whatever was going on, but these occasions grew -more and more rare.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Pamela remarked on her paleness one -day Beryl put it down to the weather, saying -it made her feel tired. Pamela believed her; -had she not been so absorbed in Elizabeth -Bagg and her work she might have noticed -things that would have aroused her suspicions; -but she was not suspicious in any way until -one evening Beryl, very awkward and hesitating, -asked Pamela if she would lend her a sovereign. -Pamela did not voice the surprise she showed -in her face—surprise because the pocket-money -handed over to each of them by Mr Sigglesthorne -had been quite generous and sufficient for the -few expenses the girls would be likely to incur in -Barrowfield during the remainder of their stay. -However, she lent the money at once, and willingly, -and asked no questions—for which Beryl seemed -very grateful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Feeling a little uneasy about the matter, and -wishing to help her if possible, Pamela made several -opportunities for Beryl to confide in her if she -had wished to do so. But Beryl did not seem to -wish to do so.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="about-a-bazaar-and-a-meeting-in-the-ruined-windmill"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XV</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">ABOUT A BAZAAR AND A MEETING IN THE RUINED WINDMILL</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The bazaar, for which Caroline had been -sewing so perseveringly, was held in the -grounds of the Manor House on a beautiful -sunny day at the end of May. Caroline spent a -blissful afternoon, dressed in a Japanese kimono -with chrysanthemums in her hair, surrounded by -tea-cosies and cushion-covers and hand-embroidered -scarves; and she had quite a brisk sale at her stall, -in spite of exorbitant prices.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The spacious lawn below the terraced flower-garden -was a delightful picture; the soft, velvety -grass and the cool shade under the trees that -bordered it making a pleasing background for the -dainty kimonoed figures that tripped to and fro -among the bamboo stalls with their white -umbrella-shaped awnings. As the general public began to -make its appearance, the colours in the summer -dresses that moved across the lawn became as -variegated as the flower-garden itself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Prior stood on the terrace and looked down -with a pleased smile at the animated scene beneath -her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The village looks forward so eagerly to this -each year," she remarked to a friend. "You see, -there is absolutely nowhere for them to go as a rule, -poor creatures. This is quite an event for them." And -she raised her eyebrows and gave a little -rippling laugh.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the poor creatures were spending -their money as they were able, and the local -reporter, who was wandering among the stalls, was -mentally calculating how big a sum of money he -would be able to announce in next week's </span><em class="italics">Observer</em><span> -as the result of Lady Prior's Annual Bazaar. -Most of the village seemed out to enjoy itself at -all costs; but now and again one would come across -a gloomy individual who looked like an unwilling -victim of this annual institution. In some cases, -as one little old woman grumbled to Caroline, -people came because they had been badgered and -worried into promising to attend by one of the -industrious members of the committee.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And there's so much questioning, and reproachful -looks, an' cold stares afterward—if you -don't come," she grumbled, fingering the various -articles on Caroline's stall, "that you come for -peace sake.... Though I'd much rather be sittin' -at 'ome an' 'aving a cup of tea in peace and -quietness and restin' my old bones—it's all very well -for young folk to come gallivantin' and spendin' -their savings—but when you're old—! ... 'Ow -much is this? What is it? Eh? An egg-cosy! -... Oh, give me one of them six-penny 'air-tidies—it'll -do for my daughter in London. I ain't got -no 'air to speak of myself. But my -daughter—her 'air comes out in 'andfulls—you ought to see -it! ... You've got nothing else for six-pence, -I suppose? No? ... I won't 'ave anything -else then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the little old woman took the hair-tidy and -made her way straight to the gates, apparently -making a bee-line for home, having fulfilled her -duty.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline was not critical—she took things very -much as a matter of course, and did not feel -ashamed for the handsomely dressed lady from a -neighbouring village who inquired in a loud voice -for the stall where the 'pore clothes' were -for sale. Caroline did not quite understand at -first, until another stall-holder explained that Mrs -Lester always purchased a number of garments -to distribute among the deserving poor of her -parish. The garments Mrs Lester bought looked -a bit clumsy, and were made all alike, of rather -coarse material, but "she's awfully good to -the poor, you know," Caroline was told; and -there the matter ended, until she recounted the -incident to the others when she got home, and -provoked a stormy protest from Pamela against -the </span><em class="italics">way</em><span> in which rich people were 'good to the poor.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why can't they be more tactful," asked Pamela. -"Of course I know lots of them are—but I mean -people like this Mrs Lester."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Pamela," said Isobel, -laughing. "What do poor people want with tact? -Give them a good meal or a bundle of clothes -and they'll pretend to be grateful and satisfied -and all that, and directly your back is turned -they'll grumble because you haven't given them -</span><em class="italics">more</em><span>. They always want more—they don't want tact!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela stared for a moment at Isobel, who was -reclining gracefully on the sofa, amusement in every -line of her face at Pamela's ideas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good gracious, Isobel! I can see a perfectly -horrible future in store for you," Pamela said -quietly. "You are going to be another Mrs Lester."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What of it?" laughed Isobel. "As long as -I am as rich as she is, there are no horrors for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Anyway, I'm sorry for you," said Pamela earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What on earth for?" asked Isobel, slightly nettled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because you'll miss some of the best things in -life," replied Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not if I'm rich, I shan't," said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline had listened in mild surprise at all this. -It had never struck her that there could be anything -to object to in Mrs Lester's attitude.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know," she said, changing the conversation, -"I had to pay for the hire of my kimono. -I hadn't expected to have to pay after giving -my services free, and making so many things for -the bazaar. But it all goes to a good cause, I -suppose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline had rather regretted that none of the -other three girls had been present at the bazaar in -the afternoon, to see how rapidly her tea-cosies -had sold; but each of the three had had a different -excuse for not coming. Isobel's absence, of course, -was a foregone conclusion—she would have loved to -go, but could not on account of Miss Crabingway's -instructions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, as we know, hated bazaars. "Don't -ask me to come, Caroline," she had said kindly. -"But will you take this donation for 'the cause' -and put it in one of the boxes or whatever they have -to collect the money in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline had had hopes that Beryl, at any rate, -would not like to refuse to come. But lack of -money to spend made Beryl desperate, and, -although she was quite resolved in her own mind -not to go, she half promised Caroline she would -go, if she felt up to it. She even made a feint -of preparing to go. Then a sudden imaginary -attack of neuralgia made it impossible, and she -sent word by Pamela to tell Caroline not to wait, -and went and lay down in her bedroom and pulled -down the blind. There in her cool and darkened -room she listened to Caroline departing, and felt -very much ashamed of herself for the story she had -made up about neuralgia.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I couldn't explain that I had no money—and -why," she made excuses to herself. "Oh, -it isn't fair!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>About a week after the bazaar Isobel went over -to Inchmoor alone one day to Madame Clarence's, -a bad toothache compelling Caroline to miss -a lesson for the first time. When her dancing-lesson -was over Isobel did a little shopping, and -then went and had tea in a smart and popular -confectioner's, where she could watch all the -fashion of the town go by from her seat near the -window. Finding that she had missed her usual -train back to Barrowfield and that there was a -long wait before the next train, she finished her -tea leisurely and then started out to walk back home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had got about half-way back when a thunderstorm -broke suddenly. And there was Isobel in a -light cotton dress, and a hat that would be -'absolutely ruined' if it got wet, in the middle of a -country lane—a couple of miles from anywhere. -She had not paid much attention to the warning -clouds overhead, and when the first growl of -thunder was heard she looked up startled and -hastened her footsteps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few minutes later the rain started—great -slow thunder-spots at first, and then it came -down in torrents. Isobel, casting her eyes hastily -around for some place of shelter, saw on the -hill-top the ruined windmill. She made for this, -and dashed in wet and gasping, and found that -although the wind and rain lashed in through -the many holes in the ruin, yet it afforded a -considerable amount of protection if she chose the -right corner to stand in. It was fortunate that she -did not remember how Caroline, in spite of her -toothache, had come out to the front door to advise -her to take an umbrella with her, or she would -have felt even more out of temper with the world -than she did.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The corner she was crouching in was partly -hidden from the doorway by a couple of thick beams -of wood which were leaning, like props, from the -walls to the ground. The beams and a pile of dust -and bricks formed a partial screen, but not sufficient -to hide her white frock, if anyone had been present -in that deserted spot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel had been there about five minutes, and the -storm showed no signs of abating, when she heard -voices and hurrying feet, and the next instant two -people dashed in at the doorway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here you are, mother, stand this side—and -hold the rug round you this way—it'll protect us -a bit," said a deep voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It really </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> most annoying—the car breaking -down like that," said a woman's voice. "Don't -go outside, Harry.... Oh, mind!" She gave -a little shriek at a flash of lightning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not the lightning nor the crash of thunder -that followed that made Isobel's heart thump so -madly. The two new-comers—who had not caught -sight of her yet, as they were standing with their -backs to her—were no others than Lady Prior -and her son!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whatever should she do, thought poor Isobel. -She was caught in a trap. If they turned and saw -her, as they undoubtedly would do sooner or later, -they would probably speak—and then what was she -to do? Of course they wouldn't know who she was. -Surely Miss Crabingway wouldn't mean her not -to speak, under the circumstances. It was so -perfectly silly! ... But old ladies were queer -creatures sometimes. And only a few weeks -more—and then the fifty pounds was hers, and she -could do what she liked. Isobel did not want to -lose the money just by making some stupid little -mistake a week or so before it was due. She thought -of her Wishing Well wish.... Of course, she -could explain just how this meeting came about, -to Miss Crabingway—but would Miss Crabingway -understand?—or was she hoping that most of the -girls would break one or other of the rules, and so -lose the money?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All this flashed through Isobel's mind during -the few minutes she waited for the two by -the doorway to turn round and discover her. -How she wished—wished most fervently—that -they would </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> turn round. For, besides the -chief reason, Isobel felt she did not wish them -to see her because she must look such 'a -sight'—dripping wet, and crumpled, and blown about, -and her hat flopping limply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She gathered from the disjointed conversation -that was going on that Lady Prior and her son -had been driving home in the motor when the -car had broken down in one of the by-lanes -about a hundred yards from the mill. The storm -had come on while the son was trying to mend -matters, and Lady Prior being rather nervous -of lightning had been unwilling to stay in the -car covered with rugs, and had insisted on getting -under a roof of some sort where she felt more -protected. She had also insisted on Harry coming -with her, and so, covering the motor over, they -had brought a rug and taken shelter inside the -windmill. Although Harry had thought that they -would be just as safe if they had remained in the -car, Lady Prior thought otherwise. And so here -they were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel glanced round about to see if there were -any possible way of escape; but there appeared -to be none. "Now what shall I do when they -turn round?" she kept asking herself. Had Beryl -been in the same predicament as Isobel all sorts -of wild ideas would have been rushing through her -brain. Beryl would have thought of things like -this: Should she pretend she was a foreigner, and -could not understand English? Or, better still, -should she pretend she was deaf and dumb? -Should she pretend to have fainted—and so escape -from having to speak; but this might have had -awkward consequences if they insisted on taking -her home or to a doctor. Should she pretend -to go mad, and tear past them and out of the door?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But these sorts of ideas did not occur to Isobel, -who was not used to practising deceptions as -Beryl was. What Isobel did do was, after all, -the most natural thing. When Lady Prior and -Harry turned and caught sight of her, and Lady -Prior gave a little shriek (because the lightning -had unnerved her), and then broke into exclamations -and questions, Isobel, quite unable to control -herself, began to cry, her face buried in her hands. -("And now, I simply can't let them see my -face," she thought to herself. "My nose always -goes so red when I cry.... I must look such -an awful fright.... I must keep my face hidden -somehow.")</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She became aware that Lady Prior was speaking -to her in a slightly condescending voice, forbidding -her to cry, and telling her not be alarmed at the -lightning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These country creatures are sometimes so -frightfully hysterical during thunderstorms," -Isobel heard Lady Prior remark in an undertone -to her son. "I suppose she's a girl from one of -the villages around here.... There, there, my -good girl, don't cry like that—the storm's almost -over now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Prior asked her a few more questions—Where -did she come from? Had she far to go -home? But receiving no reply she turned to her -son, smiled faintly, and shrugged her shoulders.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel sobbed on. Her feelings beggar -description. To be talked to in such a tone by Lady -Prior! To be mistaken for a dowdy, hysterical -village girl by Lady Prior! (But, of course, her -wet clothes and flopping hat and streaky hair -must look so positively awful that no wonder -Lady Prior could not tell what she was nor -what she looked like.) Nevertheless, it was the -last drop in Isobel's cup of humiliation. Not for -anything on earth would she let them see her -face now!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stealthily she watched for her opportunity. -Lady Prior and her son had moved away from the -door because the rain was lashing in too furiously, -and their backs were turned to her again. She -edged quietly round the wall, climbed swiftly over -the pile of bricks and dust, and made a sudden -dash for the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Lady Prior gave another little shriek and clutched -hold of Harry's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel's action had been so sudden and unexpected -that before anyone could stop her she had -gained the door and was rushing blindly down the -hill in the pouring rain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether Harry was sent after her she did not -know. Probably not, as it was still raining, and -Lady Prior would think the girl was hysterical -beyond control and that it was the best thing to -let her run home as quickly as possible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel reached home just as the storm was -over. Do what she would to avoid seeing the -other girls she could not escape them. They -all three came out into the hall to exclaim over -her drenched state and offer their help, but she -kept her head down as much as possible so -that they should not see she had been crying, and -hurried off to her room to change her clothes at -once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She would not look in the glass until she was -warm and dry again. She felt she could not stand -this last blow to her self-respect. When she did -see her reflection she was almost her old self again, -and the feeling of humiliation was considerably -lightened. She began to feel somewhat virtuous -for not breaking Miss Crabingway's rule, and pleased -with herself for having got out of the predicament -without Lady Prior and Harry suspecting her identity.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="pamela-s-wish-comes-true"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVI</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">PAMELA'S WISH COMES TRUE</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It would be pleasant to be able to record, now -that the visit to Chequertrees draws to -a close, that the four girls had made -considerable progress in the work that they had set -themselves to do. But this was not quite the case.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline had certainly done an immense amount -of needlework, but she had learnt no dressmaking -nor 'cutting out'; her needlework was simply -a repetition of work she could already do. And -the dancing-lessons she had attended had scarcely -improved her ability, or rather inability, for -dancing; but they were good exercise for her, and -had improved her health. It seemed to Caroline -as if she would never be able to learn some of the -dances Madame Clarence taught, not even if she -attended the Academy for twenty years; she did -not know why—simply, she could not grasp them. -Sometimes it seemed to Caroline as if her feet were -in league against her; her right foot would come -forward and point the toe when it ought to have -remained stationary and let the left foot point -the toe; and her left foot would raise itself up while -the right foot gave a hop, just when they both ought -to have been gliding gracefully along the -polished floor.... But in spite of these -annoyances Caroline kept doggedly on with the -lessons, and the improvement in her health was -more than compensation for her lack of success -as a dancer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl had advanced a great deal in her musical -studies. She had had time and opportunity to -practise and study her theory; time and opportunity -had never been so liberally offered to her -before, and now that they were offered she seized -them eagerly—and made the most of them. She -had even tried to compose a few pieces—a waltz, -and a march, and a melody in E flat, a haunting -melody which always made her feel 'exaltedly -sad' whenever she played it. Beryl thought -privately that it was a beautiful tune, but Isobel, -who heard it through the door one day, told Caroline -that she thought it ought to be called 'Green -Apples,' because the treble "sounded like the face -one pulls on tasting something sharp and -sour." Caroline was puzzled, and pondered over this for -a long time, and then went to listen outside the -door herself. She heard the tune, and liked -it—liked it so much that she went in and asked Beryl -to play it again, much to Beryl's confusion and -delight. After that it became a regular -institution; Caroline would take her needlework into -the drawing-room and sit and listen whenever Beryl -started to play her melody in E flat. For some -reason or other this particular tune appealed to -Caroline; it made her feel pleasantly melancholy, -and she enjoyed the feeling, and would sit -sewing and heaving long sighs at intervals. If -Isobel were anywhere within hearing on these -occasions she was rendered nearly helpless with stifled -laughter. "There's poor old Caroline going in to -have some more 'Green Apples,'" she would giggle, -and as the tune proceeded would stuff her -handkerchief in her mouth and fly up to her room and -shut herself in. Although this was only an early -attempt at composing, it marked a chapter in -Beryl's musical career, and as she advanced her -compositions became more numerous and were -better finished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel, who had not taken the question of work -seriously, had nevertheless made good progress in -her dancing. Naturally a graceful dancer, she had -rapidly picked up the new dances at Madame -Clarence's, and was now one of Madame's 'show -pupils'—to the mutual satisfaction of both of -them. It may have been noticed that up to -the present time no mention has been made -of Isobel taking any photographs with the -camera she talked of buying; this was because -she did not buy a camera until a fortnight before -her stay at Barrowfield came to an end; and -then she went and bought one with a definite -purpose in view—the purpose of giving a gift of -some photographs to Miss Crabingway on her -return.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, though she had given most of her spare -time to her sketching, had got through a good deal -of reading as well, but not as much as she had meant -to. The best of her sketches she intended to take -home with her in order to show Michael what -she had been doing, and what sort of places she -had been seeing, and what she had learnt from -Elizabeth Bagg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was one thing that all four girls had -managed to do, and that was to keep on good -terms with each other with rarely an open -disagreement. "It'll be so much more -comfortable for us all if we can manage to put -up with each other—and, after all, it is only -for a short time, not for life," Pamela had -remarked on one occasion. And so this sensible -attitude was adopted by all of them. Whenever -the smoothly running wheels of the -household got stuck, as they were bound to -occasionally, a little lubricating oil from Martha -or Ellen, or one or other of the girls, soon -set them running easily again. The stay at -Chequertrees and the contact of the various -temperaments was bound to leave some impression -on each of the girls afterward; it was not to -be expected that it could radically change them, -except in small ways. They had all more or -less enjoyed their visit, and it had done them -all good, in more ways than one. Martha and -Ellen owned to each other in the kitchen one -evening that they would certainly miss the -young life about the place when the girls had gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About a fortnight before the six months came -to an end the girls were sitting in the garden -one afternoon having tea under the mulberry -tree at the end of the lawn, when Beryl made a -suggestion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was just wondering," she began hesitatingly, -"whether we couldn't do something for Miss -Crabingway, as a sort of—well, to show we've had -a nice time here in her house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What sort of thing?" asked Caroline, her mind -running at once to gifts of hand-made tea-cosies and -cushions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A jolly good idea, Beryl," said Pamela. "It -would be nice to show her we'd appreciated -the stay here. I know that I, for one, have had -a good time. What could we do, now, for Miss -Crabingway?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When you say 'do something,' do you mean -club together and buy her a present?—or do you -suggest we decorate the house with evergreens and -hang WELCOME HOME in white cotton-wool -letters on a red flannel background?" said Isobel, -laughing. "Or does 'do something' mean getting -up an entertainment for her pleasure, in which -case you can put me down for a skirt dance—I've -learnt a heavenly new step at Madame Clarence's—you'll -see it when you come to Madame's reception next week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I suppose you end the lessons the week after -next?" said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, last time on Tuesday week," replied Isobel. -"Of course it's very unusual to hold dancing-classes -all through the summer, as Madame does, but some -of the pupils are awfully keen—and she finds that -it pays, I suppose. But it's the last time I shall be -there—Tuesday week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, don't let us talk about </span><em class="italics">last</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">end</em><span>," -said Beryl. "I wish it needn't end—our stay -here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you really?" said Isobel. "Oh, it hasn't -been a bad time on the whole, but I shan't -be sorry to get back to town, and the shops -and theatres, and, of course, mater and all the -rest of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shan't mind being home again, though I've -had a pleasant stay here," remarked Caroline. -"I'm sure Pamela is longing to be among her people -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I am," said Pamela fervently. "I can't -tell you how much I'm looking forward to seeing -them. I've had an awfully jolly time here, though.... -And that brings us back to Beryl's suggestion—what -can we do for Miss Crabingway? ... I -don't know what you all think about it, but I should -suggest that we each give her something original—give -her something she couldn't buy in a shop -in the ordinary way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like—what?" asked Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, for instance, Caroline could give her a -piece of her hand-embroidered needlework."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish we had thought of this earlier," observed -Caroline, "I could have been working at something, -in odd moments, all these weeks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've still got a whole fortnight left, dear -child," said Isobel. "But what can </span><em class="italics">I</em><span> do for -Miss Crabingway? Suggest something, somebody, -please! I can't do embroidery, like Caroline; nor -draw pictures, like Pamela; nor compose music, -like Beryl.... By the way, Beryl, you ought -to compose a waltz, and call it 'The Emily Valse,' -and dedicate it to Miss Emily Crabingway, you -know. She would be </span><em class="italics">charmed</em><span>, I'm sure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl flushed quickly, not because she resented -Isobel's joke, but because some such idea as Isobel -suggested had flitted for a moment through her -mind (barring the title of the composition).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I'll invent a dance which shall be called -'The Crabingway Glide,' and I'll dance it to your -music. There! What do you think of that for an -idea?" Isobel laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good indeed," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the four girls began to laugh at each -other, and with each other, and make all sorts of -wild and facetious suggestions, until Martha came -to the kitchen window and looked out, wondering -what all the laughter was about. But, in spite -of all the joking about it, the idea was seriously -considered, and arrangements made for each to -do her best to give Miss Crabingway something -of her own work in appreciation of the visit to -Chequertrees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was on this occasion that Isobel finally decided -to buy her camera without delay and get some -really interesting snap-shots of the girls and the -house, and have the best photographs enlarged -and framed for Miss Crabingway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"While we're on the subject," said Pamela, -"I should like to give something or other to Martha -and Ellen, wouldn't you? They've looked after -us awfully well—what can we do for them, I -wonder?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They discussed presents for Martha and Ellen, -and decided each to make or buy something suitable -within the next fortnight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela went round to see the Baggs after tea. -She knew that it was one of the days Elizabeth -went over to Inchmoor and that she would -not be back home again until seven o'clock, -because it was the evening she stayed later to -do her housekeeping shopping. But Pamela did -not want to see Elizabeth herself. She wanted to -see her firelight picture, which she knew was just -finished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The eldest little Bagg girl was setting the table -for her father's tea when Pamela arrived at 'Alice -Maud Villa.'</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm just going up to Elizabeth's room for -something," said Pamela, after she had helped to lay -the table. Tom Bagg was not in yet, but expected -in every minute.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Upstairs in the studio Pamela found Elizabeth's -picture—finished. She stood before it for some -minutes, regarding it earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it's the best thing she's ever done," she -said to herself. "I'm sure it is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To Pamela's eyes the likenesses were excellent; -Tom Bagg, with his ruddy, genial face, sitting in -his big arm-chair by the fire, chuckling, and pointing -with the stem of his pipe at his absorbed audience -of children, a habit of his when emphasizing any -particular point in the story. The expressions -on the children's faces were delightful. Pamela -laughed softly to herself as she looked at them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then she went to the door, opened it, and listened. -Tom Bagg had just come in, and was inquiring -when his tea would be ready.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll wait till he's had it," thought Pamela. -"He'll be in an extra good mood then."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She went downstairs and chatted with him while -he had his tea, and did her best to put him in as -pleasant a mood as possible. She laughed at his -jokes longer than they deserved, and encouraged -him to talk; he was always happy when talking; -and she kept an eye on the children so that -they did nothing to annoy him. Frequently -she would glance up at the clock, anxious to -assure herself that Elizabeth was not due home yet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, when Tom Bagg had finished his tea -and had got out his pipe and tobacco pouch, she -felt that her opportunity had arrived. She rose, -and with rapidly beating heart went upstairs to -the studio and fetched the firelight picture down. -Without a word she placed it on a chair before the -old cabman, who watched her movements with -curious surprise. The little Baggs pressed forward -and clustered round the picture, gazing in astonishment. -For a second or two there was dead silence -in the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's Daddy," said one of the children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An' us!" cried another shrilly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your sister painted it," said Pamela to Tom Bagg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then they all began to talk at once—all, -that is, except old Tom Bagg. Throughout the -noisy interlude that followed he remained silent, -staring at the picture. Pamela watched his face -anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he scratched the bald spot on the top -of his head, and said quietly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'm blowed!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had never seen any of Elizabeth's portrait -studies before, and was filled with astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it's like me!" he said in surprise, as if -that were the last thing to be expected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course it is," replied Pamela. "It's meant -to be." Then she went on to explain how Elizabeth -had sat and watched him and the children and then -gone away and painted the picture up in her own -room. She was longing to talk about Elizabeth's -work with all the enthusiasm she felt for it, but -she purposely kept her voice as quiet as she could, -because she guessed it would be wiser and -more effective to let Tom Bagg think he had -discovered for himself how clever his sister really was.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Which is precisely what Tom Bagg came to think -he had done. He was much taken by his own -portrait.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's not a bad bit of work, eh?" he asked Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's a decidedly good bit of work—it's splendid," -she replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The more Tom Bagg looked at the picture the -more pleased he became with it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," he said, "it's not at all a bad bit of -work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood with his head a little on one side -regarding the picture.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then the front-door latch clicked and -Elizabeth Bagg stepped in. She caught sight of -the picture immediately, and looked round the -room astonished, and annoyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, please forgive me," said Pamela, moving -toward her. "I—I simply couldn't help bringing -it down..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Lizzie," said Tom Bagg, who felt wholeheartedly -generous once he was convinced of anything, -"this is not at all a bad bit of work. Why -didn't you tell me you could paint likenesses?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was evidently greatly struck with the painting, -and seemed to admire it so genuinely, that any -annoyance Elizabeth may have felt faded -immediately, and she laughed a little nervously and -said she was glad he liked it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Pamela had decided to bring the picture -down to show to Tom Bagg she had not expected -her action to do more than make Tom Bagg realize -the talent of his sister, and so make it easier for her -to have more time for her painting. Tom Bagg -certainly did realize his sister's talent at last; but -the matter did not end there; he became so pleased -with the picture that the following evening he -carried it (without Elizabeth's permission) down to -the 'Blue Boar,' where he proudly displayed it -to his bosom friends, and any strangers who -happened to drop in while he was there, and was -much elated by the unanimous praise it received.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Whether you believe the Wishing Well had anything -to do with the sequel depends on whether you -believe in Wishing Wells or not. Pamela undoubtedly -puts it down to the Wishing Well. She had wished -that Elizabeth Bagg's work would gain recognition. -And it did. It happened that a Mr Alfred Knowles, -an influential art connoisseur from London, came -into the 'Blue Boar' that evening just when Tom -Bagg was showing the picture to a group of men -in the bar-parlour. Mr Knowles listened with -great interest to Tom Bagg's explanations and -remarks, and getting into conversation with the -old cabman, questioned him closely about his sister's -work. An introduction to Elizabeth Bagg followed, -and Mr Knowles was so delighted with her pictures -that he purchased several and took them back to -town with him; he would have liked to buy the -firelight picture, but Tom Bagg seemed so anxious -to keep it that Elizabeth decided not to part with -it, but promised Mr Knowles that she would have -a reproduction made for him as quickly as possible. -And so the original picture of Tom Bagg telling -stories to his children was hung up over the -mantel-piece in the living-room of the little cottage in -Long Lane.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela was delighted by the turn events had -taken. Had she been able to see into Elizabeth's -future she would have been more delighted -still. For Elizabeth's pictures were to be seen and -admired by Mr Knowles' artistic friends, and she -was to get commissions from them for numerous -paintings, so that as time went on she was obliged -to give up her classes at Inchmoor in order to give -all her spare time to her painting at home. And -with the money she earned Elizabeth was eventually -able to pay for some one to come and do the -housework for her brother, and washing and mending, -and to help look after the children. For, though -Elizabeth achieved in time a small amount of fame, -it never altered her decision to stay and look after -her brother and his children.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't be happy if I left them now," she -would say, when tempted with the thought of that -wonderful room in London. Instead, she rented -a room in Barrowfield, which she turned into a -studio, and divided her days between the studio -and her brother's house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Tom Bagg, he was bewildered yet gratified -with the state of affairs; his respect for Elizabeth -increased by leaps and bounds as he saw how -highly valued her work became. Gradually he -came to wonder if he and the children were a drag -on Elizabeth's career, and once he offered her her -freedom, and was deeply touched by her decision -to stay with him....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And there was to come a day in the future when -Pamela and Michael and Elizabeth Bagg were to -pay a visit to the Royal Academy to see Elizabeth's -latest picture hung....</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But all this was to happen some years after -Pamela's first visit to Barrowfield was over. Up -to the present time Elizabeth's pictures had just -been bought by Mr Knowles—which was sufficient -for Pamela to be able to announce to three -interested girls at Chequertrees that her Wishing -Well wish had come true.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="in-which-old-silas-laughs-and-isobel-dances"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">IN WHICH OLD SILAS LAUGHS AND ISOBEL DANCES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Madame Clarence's reception took -place a week before the girls' visit to -Chequertrees came to an end. As one of -Madame's 'show' pupils Isobel was to do a special -dance by herself on this occasion; she had been -looking forward to this, and had bought a special -dress for the dance, made of white silk. She had -practised the steps and movements of the dance -over and over again before a long mirror in her -bedroom, until she could do the dance to her -complete satisfaction. Madame was enthusiastic over -it, and told Isobel privately that she thought she -would be the success of the evening—which pleased -Isobel greatly, and made her determine that she -would do her best to make Madame's words come true.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In her white silk frock, her pretty fluffy hair dressed -becomingly and tied with a soft blue ribbon, she -looked very dainty and graceful as she ran down -the stairs to the dining-room for Pamela and Beryl -to inspect her before she put her cloak on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline, who, of course, was to dance at Madame's -reception also (but not by herself), was "not quite -ready yet," she called out to Isobel as the latter -passed the bedroom door on her way down. -Caroline was to wear a white frock too; but white -did not suit Caroline's complexion, and the style of -her dress rather emphasized her heavy build and -plump arms. However, as Caroline surveyed herself -in the mirror she was not so concerned about her -frock or complexion as she was with the intricacies -of one of the dances she was to take part in that -evening. She felt sure she would never remember -a certain twist at one point, and a bow, and a turn -at another, and she felt very glad that she was -not going to dance alone, like Isobel, but only with -a crowd of other girls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, Beryl, Martha, and Ellen had been -invited by Isobel and Caroline to come as their -guests to the reception. Each pupil of Madame's -could bring two friends with them, and Isobel -claiming Pamela and Beryl for her two, Caroline -suddenly had the nice idea of inviting Martha and -Ellen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was arranged that Isobel and Caroline were -to go on ahead of their guests, as Madame had -expressed a wish that all her pupils would arrive -at least half an hour before the visitors were -expected, so that everything and every one would -be ready to start promptly to time. It was just -beginning to get dusk when the two girls were -actually ready and waiting for Tom Bagg's cab -to arrive so that they could start off. Pamela, -Beryl, Martha, and Ellen were to follow on to -Inchmoor by the seven o'clock train.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening was very warm, and as Tom Bagg -drove up to the gate, Isobel, suddenly declaring that -she was too hot to put on her cloak, decided to -carry it over her arm and wrap it round her in the -cab if she felt chilly. Caroline did not care how -hot she felt; she put on her cloak and buttoned -it up to the neck, telling Isobel she thought she -was foolish and that she might not only catch a -cold but would get her dress soiled in brushing -against the cab door, and so on. But Isobel -laughed and asked Caroline if she was going to -take her goloshes and umbrella in case it -rained between the front door and the cab at -the gate. And so, with Pamela and Beryl -wishing them both good luck, Isobel and Caroline -passed out of the front door and down the -garden.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And then a catastrophe happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel, who was some way in front of Caroline, -was passing a low thick bush half-way along the -path to the gate, and had turned to make some -laughing remark, and wave her hand to Pamela at -the front door, when suddenly a pailful of garden -rubbish—mostly weeds with black, wet soil clinging -to their roots—came shooting over the bush, and -descended in a shower all over Isobel and her pretty -white silk frock.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 84%" id="figure-44"> -<span id="a-pailful-of-garden-rubbish-descended-in-a-shower"></span><img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="A PAILFUL OF GARDEN RUBBISH DESCENDED IN A SHOWER" src="images/img-208.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">A PAILFUL OF GARDEN RUBBISH DESCENDED IN A SHOWER</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel gave a scream, ran a few steps, and then -stood stock-still, and gazed down at her frock and -the coat on her arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, it's spoilt—it's absolutely spoilt!" she -gasped, whipping out her handkerchief and trying -in vain to rub off the dirty, smeary marks on her -sleeves and skirt. "Oh, Pamela, whatever shall -I do? ... But who </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> it? Who </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> it?" she -cried, lifting her head angrily, and she made a -dart round the side of the bush.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was no one immediately on the other -side. About a dozen yards off, with his back to -her, digging methodically away at one of the -flowerbeds was old Silas Sluff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh!" cried Isobel. "It was you, then, was -it? How—how dare— Oh, you perfectly horrible -creature!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silas, being deaf, took no notice, and so she -ran forward, stepping recklessly on his flowerbeds, -and confronted him, her eyes blazing with anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time the others had come on the scene. -Pamela, Beryl, followed by the dumbfounded -Caroline, and presently Martha and Ellen, came -running to learn what had happened and what -had caused the delay. Poor Isobel certainly looked -a woebegone sight, with great smears down her -dress and on one cheek, and soil and weeds -in her hair. Who would have believed that -the soil would have been so sticky and -wet—unless old Silas had recently been watering the -garden, which he didn't appear to have been -doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Look what you've done!" cried Isobel excitedly, -pointing to her dress; but as Silas did -not look up, but still went on digging, she suddenly -seized his spade, jerked it out of his hands, and flung -it down on the ground. "Look what you've -done!" she repeated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Silas straightened his bent back and looked -at the dress in silence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'll have to pay for this, my man!" Isobel -raised her voice and spoke loudly and distinctly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh?" said old Silas, whose deafness appeared -to be worse than usual to-day. Then he added, -"Who will?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You," cried Isobel. "You'll have to pay -for a new dress in place of this one you've -spoilt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Pamela joined in. After a great deal of -difficulty, for the old gardener seemed -extraordinarily deaf and stupid, he was made to -understand that he was being accused of throwing a -pailful of rubbish over Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you did it </span><em class="italics">purposely</em><span>," added Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Isobel, wait a minute," said Pamela. -"Perhaps he didn't know you were passing—perhaps -he didn't hear you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Old Silas was apparently not so deaf after -all, for he caught this remark, and looking at -Isobel's dress and seeing that his handiwork -was even better than he had expected it to be, -he decided in his own mind to retire now from -this awkward scene in the manner most to his -advantage; after all, he thought, there were four, -five, six of them as witnesses against him here, -and if they complained to Miss Crabingway he -might be dismissed—which would not suit him -at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Ere," he said at length, "what's that you -sez I done? Eh? Well, I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> throw a pail -of rubbidge over the 'edge jus' now—I'm not -a-goin' to say as 'ow I didn't—but I thrown -it on to the rubbidge 'eap.... Where I -alwus throw it—all on to the path in a 'eap -and then sweep it up afterwuds.... I never -'eard no one comin' along the path—I'm that -'ard of 'earing, yer know.... I never 'eard no -one..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But it's not usual for you to throw the rubbish -over like that without looking, is it?" asked -Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Silas stoutly maintained that it was, though -nobody in the little group around him had seen -him do such a thing before to-day. Ellen, in the -background, squeezed Martha's arm and winked, -whispering in her ear,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of </span><em class="italics">course</em><span> he done it for the purpose. I told -you he'd have his revenge on Miss Isobel for saucing -him in the garden when she first came here, didn't -I now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Silas stubbornly held to his point -that he thought he was throwing the weeds on -the rubbish heap, and that he had not heard Isobel -coming past.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, Isobel," said Pamela, "it won't do -any good to prolong this argument—and time's -flying past. Let's hurry in and see what we can -do to the dress—or you must wear one of mine. -And, Beryl, will you explain to Tom Bagg and -ask him in to wait for twenty minutes—we mustn't -be longer than that." Then she turned to Silas. -"I think," she said, "that at any rate you might -apologize——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Apologize! What good will that do! I don't -want an apology from </span><em class="italics">him</em><span>," cried Isobel. "I'm -too disgusted with him—besides, I </span><em class="italics">know</em><span> he did it -purposely. He's just telling lies, because he is -frightened now at what he's done.... But if -the dress is ruined beyond repair he shall pay for -it—I don't care what he says.... I'll make him -pay, if—if I have to go to law about it." And -without waiting for anything further Isobel turned -on her heel and marched away into the house, -followed by Pamela, who was secretly longing to -laugh at old Silas's expression and Isobel's theatrical -outburst. In a few moments the group round -Silas dispersed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Silas stood for a while scratching the top of his -head and looking at the ground where Isobel had -stood, then he picked up his spade and resumed -his digging.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Presently he began to chuckle. "I said I'd -learn 'er," he told himself. "An' I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> learn 'er. -Nice and slimy and wet them weeds were—an', -after all, I </span><em class="italics">did</em><span> only throw 'em on a rubbidge 'eap. -That's what she is."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Why old Silas had not taken his revenge on -Isobel before this it is impossible to say. He had -not thought out any clear plan for a long time, -but had waited for an idea, and when he had got -one he had turned it over in his mind with relish -for some time, and then begun to look around for -an opportunity—and, at length, to-day he had -found one.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Tom Bagg waited in the hall, and Caroline -wandered about asking if she could be of any -use, Pamela and Beryl, finding that Isobel's -dress could not be remedied unless it was -thoroughly washed and ironed, quickly got out -a white muslin frock of Pamela's and set to -work to make it fit Isobel. Pamela was more -Isobel's build than either of the other two girls, -and so her dress was not such a bad fit, and -with the aid of a needle and cotton, and some -safety pins and a pair of scissors, it soon began -to look presentable on Isobel. Of course it did -not look as pretty on Isobel as her own white -silk had done—but it was fortunate that Pamela -had even a white muslin frock ready to lend Isobel -in this emergency. Martha and Ellen lent a hand, -hurrying to and fro, looking for pins and scissors, -and helping Isobel to brush the soil out of her -hair and re-do it. For although they all knew that -Isobel's conduct toward old Silas had been very -rude and trying, to say the least of it, yet they all -felt sorry for her that he had chosen just this occasion -to punish her for her treatment of him so many -months ago.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no time to talk much—they all -worked hard, and within half an hour Isobel and -Caroline were safely packed away inside Tom -Bagg's cab and were jogging briskly along the -road to Inchmoor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of course Pamela, Beryl, Martha, and Ellen had -missed the seven o'clock train, and when they -arrived at the Dancing Academy, and were shown -into the big dancing-hall, a great number of people -were already assembled, and the first part of -the programme had begun. Madame, who had -received all her guests in the doorway and had -shaken hands with each one, had now disappeared -behind the door at the back of the raised platform -at the end of the hall. The four late arrivals -managed to squeeze through the crowd that filled -the lower half of the hall, and at length found -seats where they could obtain a good view of the -evening's proceedings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A glance round the hall conveyed the impression -that Madame's receptions must be very popular -affairs; there was scarcely a vacant seat to be -seen. Most of the audience were relatives of the -pupils or friends, or prospective pupils, but there -were a number of people who were outsiders—people -who had received a pressing and urgent -invitation from Madame at the last minute; for -always before her receptions Madame would be -suddenly seized with an unreasonable fear that the -hall would be empty of onlookers, or only half -filled, and so she would send out a score or so -of these pressing and flattering invitations at -random, and in a frantic hurry, a couple of -days before the reception took place. And -generally a few of these last-minute visitors would -turn up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The upper half of the hall, including the raised -platform at the end, was reserved for the dancers, -the baby-grand piano being well concealed by -bamboo fern-stands and pots of flowering shrubs, -so that the music arose, apparently, from a bank of -greenery and flowers. Prettily shaded lights were -suspended at intervals from the ceiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela and Beryl gathered from the conversation -going on around them that they had missed -Madame's opening speech and the first dance, -and now the second dance was just about to start. -A tall, thin lady in a black evening dress, with lace -frills at her elbows, and wearing pince-nez and a -rather bored expression, appeared from the door -at the back of the platform, and descending behind -the ferns and bamboo stands, began to play a lively -barn-dance on the piano. It was a good piano, -all except one note in the bass which was out -of tune, and made a curious burring noise -whenever it was played on; and this particular note -seemed to recur again and again in the barn-dance, -so that Beryl always associated the music of that -evening with this particular bass note, and could -hear it, in her head, whenever Madame's name -was mentioned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Twelve girls all dressed in white, and twelve -youths in regulation evening-dress, took part in -the barn-dance, which was enthusiastically -applauded by the audience. This was followed by -a graceful, old-fashioned minuet and several solo -dances, each of which Martha said was nicer than -the one before. But of all the dances, there were -just three that the onlookers from Chequertrees -remembered best. The first was Isobel's dance, -the second a flower-dance in which Caroline took -part, and the third a weird dance done by Madame -Clarence herself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel's dance was a great success, as Madame -had prophesied. Almost up to the moment when -she first appeared on the platform Isobel had been -feeling out of humour and disappointed on account -of her white silk dress; but directly she started -to dance she forgot all her troubles, and, smiling -happily, she floated lightly across the platform, -swaying, turning, tapping with her small white -shoes, and daintily holding the skirt of Pamela's -white muslin frock. It was sheer pleasure to watch -Isobel's graceful movements, and she seemed to be -enjoying the dance so thoroughly, that every one -else felt they were enjoying it too. Could old -Silas have seen her smiling light-heartedly as -she danced across the hall he would never -have recognized her as the same girl who had -stood before him a few hours previously, savagely -angry. Pamela and Beryl were astonished at -the change in Isobel; they had not expected -her to be able to throw her annoyance off so -completely.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the end of the dance a storm of applause broke -out, and Isobel was encored again and again. Back -she came, blushing and smiling and bowing—a -transformed Isobel, her eyes bright with excitement. -The success of the evening! That's what she had -hoped to be—and that was what she was. As she -bowed her acknowledgments after her encore -dance, her smiling gaze, wandering round the faces -of the audience, lighted on the faces of two girls, -whom she recognized as Lady Prior's daughters; -they were applauding her enthusiastically, Isobel -saw to her delight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the other side of the platform door Caroline -waited, listening to the applause that was greeting -Isobel, and she couldn't help thinking that it -was rather a shame that no applause like this was -ever given to the most choice piece of needlework -imaginable. She tried to conjure up visions of -rapturously applauding audiences encoring an -embroidered tea-cosy, but it was impossible to -picture it, and she sighed heavily. "And yet the -tea-cosy is much more useful than a dance," she -thought. Isobel might have argued that a dance, -in giving a hundred people a few minutes' genuine -pleasure and happiness was of more use than a -tea-cosy, but Caroline would never have agreed with her. -Thinking of the many hours she had sat over her -needlework, and the delicate stitchery she had -done, for which she had received nothing more -than an occasional word of praise, Caroline felt -all at once aggrieved, realizing the unfairness -of things in general. She couldn't remember -feeling like this before, and marvelled at -herself. Why had she got this sudden desire for -praise? Perhaps it was the knowledge that -the dance in which she was to appear came -next on the programme, and she knew that she -was no good at dancing. She wondered why -Madame had insisted on her taking part in this -dance; Madame liked every one of her pupils -to appear on the occasions when she gave a -reception, providing, of course, that they were -passable dancers. She thought Caroline a -passable dancer, and so she was until she forgot -her steps. And Caroline felt convinced she was -going to forget them on this occasion; she wished -she had, on the present occasion, that sense of -capability she would have felt if she had been -going on the platform with a needle and thread in -her hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline felt so sure she would forget a certain -part of the flower-dance that, of course, she did -forget it. With twenty other girls, each carrying -a trail of artificial roses, she danced on to the -platform and down the upper part of the hall. All -went well for a time. Every time she danced past -the place where Martha was sitting she was -conscious that Martha nodded and beamed encouragingly -at her, and felt somewhat cheered by this -attention on Martha's part. And then, when the -critical part of the dance arrived—whether it was -that Caroline was giddy with whirling round and -round, or whether it was because she had thought -to herself, "Now, this is where I shall go wrong," -will never be known—but after a brief but -vivid impression that she was dancing up the -side of the wall, and that the audience were -spinning round and round her like a gigantic -top, Caroline found herself alone in the middle -of the hall, with her feet tangled in a trail of -artificial roses and her hair tumbling about her -face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The audience was clapping and laughing. -Caroline was overcome with confusion and, flushing -painfully, tried to disentangle herself from the -roses. The other girls were grouped together in -a final tableau at the other end of the hall, -beside the platform. They were all tittering with -laughter too. Caroline made a desperate effort, -and, disentangling herself, dashed across to -them and tried to obscure herself among the -twenty. And in another minute the dance was -over and they were all 'behind the scenes' again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Madame received her with honeyed words, but the -tone of her voice was acid. She had thought that -Caroline's dancing would pass at least unnoticed, -and now it had been noticed in a very unenviable way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Caroline! She felt both ashamed and sorry -for herself. "I knew I should never remember -that part," was all she could say—and thereafter -remained quiet and sulky, brooding over the -'ridiculous sketch' she must have looked before -all that laughing audience. "I never did like -dancing," she said to herself later, "and now I -hate it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately Madame Clarence's own dance -followed soon after Caroline's blunder, and the -impression made by Madame was such as to sweep -everything else into the background for the time -being.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It certainly was a remarkable dance, and one -that Madame had invented herself. Madame was -dressed in a startling black frock embroidered -with gold, and wore yellow earrings and a long -chain of yellow beads, and bright yellow shoes -and stockings. Madame's expressive hands played -a great part in the dance, which, as previously -mentioned, was remarkable—far more remarkable -than beautiful. It seemed to Ellen, who gazed -spellbound, as if Madame must surely end by -breaking her neck, or one of her legs, so full of -twists and curves was the dance; indeed, at times -it was all Ellen could do to keep herself from giving -little shrieks or crying 'oo-er' aloud. However, -she enjoyed it immensely, and so did the rest of the -audience, judging by the applause Madame received -and the huge bouquets which suddenly appeared -and were handed up to her as she came to bow her -thanks, smiling delightedly and kissing her hand -to the audience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the evening there was an interval in which -coffee and cakes were handed round, and -everybody became very chatty, and Madame wandered -about among her guests conversing and receiving -compliments. Ellen seemed to be fascinated by -Madame, and followed her movements around the -hall admiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Beryl watched the evening's proceedings with -sad, preoccupied eyes. She smiled and talked -brightly enough when anyone spoke to her, but -her face in repose wore an anxious, worried look. -During the previous week her moods of depression -had been very frequent, and worse than usual, -for even her music had been neglected and the -piano had been closed and silent. She was -enjoying the evening at Madame Clarence's, but she -was not by any means at ease. Pamela had noticed -this and was a little puzzled. That Beryl was -far from anxious for their six months' stay at -Chequertrees to come to an end Pamela was -aware; and she did not doubt that Beryl -dreaded Miss Crabingway's return, because it -meant Enfield and Aunt Laura for Beryl; but -she felt that there was something more than the -coming parting to account for Beryl's preoccupied -manner and avoidance of any confidential talk -with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Madame Clarence's successful evening coming -at length to a close, Madame stood at the door -again and shook hands effusively with her guests -as they passed out, receiving more compliments, -and herself telling every one how "vewy, vewy kind -it was of them to come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the journey home Caroline was wrapped -in gloom, but Isobel was in high good spirits and -chatted and laughed excitedly, all thoughts of -old Silas having been driven from her head—until -the following morning when she returned the muslin -dress to Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Finding, on examination, that her own silk dress -was not irretrievably spoiled, but would come up as -good as new when washed, Isobel decided to take -no further steps to show her displeasure toward -Silas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's not worth taking any more bother about," -Isobel decided, partly because she really felt that, -and partly because she did not know exactly what -to do to punish him—beyond reporting him to -Miss Crabingway, which might lead to awkward -questions about her own conduct, she realized.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so Silas Sluff heard no more about the -rubbish heap.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="the-door-is-unlocked"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XVIII</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">THE DOOR IS UNLOCKED</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A couple of days before Miss Crabingway -was due to return Beryl made an opportunity -to speak to Pamela about the money -she had borrowed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I haven't got it on me at present, Pamela," -said Beryl. "But I'll be sure to let you have it -back. I'll send it to you by post, without fail. -It was awfully good of you.... I have got your -address, haven't I? Oh, yes, I wrote it down in -my note book."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's all right. Don't worry about that—any -time will do," said Pamela. "If I could help -you in any way——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Beryl thanked her and assured her that -everything was all right, and hurriedly changed -the subject.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway was expected home on the -Friday morning, so the girls made all their final -preparations on the Thursday evening, and Pamela -and Beryl and Isobel (Caroline was busy packing) -spent an hour after tea in picking flowers and -arranging them in every room in the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, it's like as if the garden 'as come inside -the house," cried Martha, passing through the hall -as Pamela was arranging a big bowl of roses on a -small table by the front door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Aren't they lovely?" said Pamela, burying -her nose in them. "And we don't seem to have -robbed the garden a bit—there are heaps more.... -I always think flowers give one such a welcome, -don't you, Martha? ... And these are going to -stand on the mat, as it were, and be the first to -shake hands with Miss Crabingway to-morrow, -to welcome her home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, after all, it was not the bowl of roses that -welcomed Miss Crabingway home; it was a pot -of shaggy yellow chrysanthemums that stood inside -the french windows of the drawing-room that night. -Pamela did not know this, though, until the -following morning, after breakfast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela noticed, when she put her head inside -the kitchen door on her way to breakfast that -Martha and Ellen were whispering together in a -subdued, excited way, and that they stopped at once -on catching sight of her and went hastily on with -their work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm just bringing the coffee in, Miss Pamela," -said Ellen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Martha took the boiled eggs out of the -saucepan with a self-conscious expression on her -face, and in her efforts to appear unconcerned -dropped one, and it broke on the kitchen floor. -In the unnecessary energy she put into the work of -clearing it up she was able to hide her embarrassment -and regain her composure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was not lost on Pamela, who felt that there -was a certain atmosphere of mystery in the -kitchen—which was entirely foreign to the -light, sunny room, with its shining brass and -purring kettle, and delicious smell of baking -bread.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is anything the matter, Martha?" she could -not help asking, when calm was restored and the -broken egg replaced. "There's nothing wrong, -is there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha and Ellen exchanged quick glances, and -then Martha laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, bless my heart, why should there be?" -she replied. "Of course there's nothing -wrong." And she laughed again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Pamela felt vaguely uneasy—why, she did -not know. She ate her breakfast thoughtfully, -and did not talk half so much as she usually -did at breakfast-time. All the girls were more -silent than usual, as if the coming events of the -day were already casting their shadows over them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as breakfast was finished Martha appeared -suddenly in the dining-room doorway and said,</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was to ask you all if you would please step -up and see Miss Crabingway now.... She is -in her own room...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls looked at each other in astonishment. -Miss Crabingway here! In her own room! The -locked-up room? When did she arrive? None -of them had heard her come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They turned to Martha with a dozen questions, -but Martha only smiled mysteriously and shook -her head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Miss Crabingway arrived late last night," she -said when there was a pause in the questioning; -"so late that she did not knock at the front door, -in case she woke you all up ..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then how—?" Isobel began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard some one tap on the french windows -in the drawing-room, just as I was going to lock -up for the night.... It was Miss Crabingway," -said Martha.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why—" said Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Martha moved out of the doorway. "Miss Crabingway -is waiting for you," she said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls had all risen, and were standing round -the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, we'd better go," said Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But none of them moved for a moment. They -were gradually readjusting their plans to meet the -present occasion—their plans for welcoming Miss -Crabingway, which were all spoilt now. Instead -of being able to catch a glimpse of her before -she saw them—being able to watch her enter -the garden gate, and come up the path to the -front door—here she was in their midst, ready -to welcome </span><em class="italics">them</em><span>.... And they had meant to -put on their pretty summer dresses—and here -they were with only their morning blouses and -skirts on.... However, there was no time to -change now—Miss Crabingway was waiting to see -them. It was useless to try to remember all the -things they had meant to say and do before meeting -Miss Crabingway—there was no time for regrets. -Before they realized what was happening they -were mounting the stairs in solemn, single file, -Pamela leading the way and Caroline bringing -up the rear—while Martha stood at the foot -of the staircase, an enigmatical smile on her face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Outside the room door which had been locked -to them for so long the girls stopped. All was -silent within. Each of the girls felt as if the loud -beating of her heart must be heard by the other -three. They were all rather nervous. What would -they see on the other side of the door?—the door -which they had so religiously avoided going near, -until now. What would Miss Crabingway be -like?—Miss Crabingway, who had made such -queer rules for them during their stay in her -house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela knocked gently on the door with her -knuckles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sound of a chair leg scraping on the floor -inside could be heard, and then a voice said "Come -in." So Pamela turned the door handle and the -four girls went in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each of the girls, at some time or other -during the last six months, had imagined the -meeting with Miss Crabingway at the end of -their visit; the imagined meetings had been -dramatic or comfortable, according to the girls' -moods or temperaments; but none of them had -imagined anything like the meeting that actually -occurred. To begin with, no one had thought of -it taking place in the locked-up room, curiously -enough.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway, who had been sitting at the -farther end of the room in a low wicker chair beside -a table littered with papers, rose as they entered -and stood gazing toward them intently. For the -space of half a minute she stood quite silent, taking -stock of her four visitors—and they stood gazing -at her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Quite unlike Pamela's imagined picture of her, -Miss Crabingway was small and thin, about fifty -years of age, with exceedingly bright eyes and -bushy white hair. Her nose was large and aquiline, -of the variety generally termed roman. It is -supposed that people with large noses have strength -of will and character; it may have been Miss -Crabingway's nose that indicated her character, -but it was certainly her eyes that appeared to -be the most compelling </span><em class="italics">force</em><span> about her; they -were eager, restless, keenly-alive-looking brown -eyes. After the girls had noticed her eyes and -nose and hair, and her thin-lipped wide mouth, -they became aware that Miss Crabingway was -dressed in a coat and skirt of some soft dark brown -material. It was odd to see Miss Crabingway -dressed, with the exception of a hat, as if to -go out of doors at this time in the morning; -at least, it seemed odd to the girls, who had -expected to find her having breakfast in bed, perhaps, -or, at any rate, sitting in a flannel dressing-gown.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no time at present to take in the details -of the 'locked-up room,' but the first impression -was one of sombreness with regard to the furnishings, -and although it was an airy room, with a very -high ceiling and four windows, yet it seemed a -dark room on account of the ivy which grew -round the windows, and even across the panes -in some parts. Then it was gradually borne in -upon the girls that nearly everything in the room -was duplicated!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were two four-poster beds with exactly -the same coloured hangings and draperies, two -chests of drawers, two ottomans (gay and -modern and chintz-covered), two wicker-chairs, -two small round tables, two fire-places—one at -each end of the long room—and two carpets -which met in the centre of the floor, two high -wardrobes, and so on—so that whenever one -caught sight of something fresh, one -immediately looked round for its double—and was -sure to find it. The ornaments on the two -mantelpieces were exactly the same.... All -this fascinated one so strangely that Pamela -even found herself about to look round for two -Miss Crabingways.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But there was only one Miss Crabingway, and -her keen eyes travelled from one to another of the -girls, and then quickly returning to look again at -Beryl, remained staring at her critically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then all of a sudden she began to talk as if -continuing a conversation with the girls which had -already been in progress for some time. The girls -hardly took in what she said—they were so -surprised—but afterward, when they tried to -remember, it seemed to have been something about red -serge and water-cress, and the difficulty of living in -rooms up six pairs of stairs, if you were a plumber -and suffered from rheumatism.... When they -thought this over seriously, it seemed too silly; -but, nevertheless, it was certainly the impression -the girls got of Miss Crabingway's torrent of -conversation. The manner in which Miss Crabingway -appeared to be continuing some discussion with -them puzzled the four girls greatly at first; -afterward, they learnt that this was one of Miss -Crabingway's little peculiarities—she never publicly -recognized the existence of introductions and -farewells, but on seeing a fresh arrival would -continue a conversation as if the new-comer -had been there all the time. She would greet -some one who had been absent for years as if -he or she had just walked down the garden to -see how the lettuces were growing and had -then wandered back into the house again. It -was an odd trick of Miss Crabingway's, and -an inconvenient one sometimes, besides being -bewildering. Yet it gave a curious impression -that Miss Crabingway was with you all the time, -and that she had been watching you throughout -the years with those eager eyes of hens. In the -same manner she declined to say good-bye, -always giving the impression that she was coming -along with you—in fact, would catch you up in a -few minutes, before you reached the station. It -was only when you had been talking with her for -some time that you discovered that she did -realize there were such things as absence, time, -and space.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"However," Miss Crabingway continued, "I -want to have a short talk with you all.... -But why stand by the door, my dear girls? -There are plenty of chairs, and an ottoman -here by the window."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this invitation the girls crossed the room -and seated themselves in chairs and on the ottoman, -which held two—Beryl and Caroline.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are very pleased to meet you, Miss -Crabingway, and we want to thank—" Pamela -began, when Miss Crabingway broke in suddenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What was the date yesterday?" she asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela, taken aback for a moment, replied, -"Oh—the 27th, I think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah," said Miss Crabingway. "Yes, I'm glad -I sent Joseph Sigglesthorne that telegram. He -never can remember dates—especially after the -8th of each month. They always send him in -two rashers of bacon every morning for his breakfast -during the first week in each month—after that -they give him boiled eggs every day until the end -of the month, and it becomes so monotonous that -he can't distinguish one day from another. It's -certainly rather confusing, isn't it? I've told him -I'd change the restaurant or coffee-house, or -whatever it is that supplies him with breakfast; -but he's used to it, and he doesn't like change—so -it's no good my talking or giving him calendars—I -just send him a telegram."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway seated herself and began rustling -and sorting the papers on the little table in front -of her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now," she continued in her decisive voice, -flashing a glance round her puzzled audience, and -once again looking last and longest at Beryl, "I -didn't ask you to come up here in order to -discuss Joseph Sigglesthorne's breakfast—as you will -doubtless guess. I asked you here to tell you a -true story, and, if you please, don't speak to me -until I've finished."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without more ado Miss Crabingway gave a dry -little cough and began hurriedly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was an elderly person who was rich, -and lonely—" she paused for a second, then -added with emphasis, "and crotchety! Yes, -that's what she was, though most of her acquaintances -called her eccentric, and quaint—out of -politeness.... As she grew older she grew -more and more lonely; and realizing one day -(when she was feeling ill and depressed) that she -couldn't take her money with her when she -died, she determined that she would make use -of it now and give some benefit and enjoyment -to herself, and, if possible, to others.... -She—she had taken a great fancy to a young girl -she had come across recently—the daughter of a -very old and valued friend who died some years -back.... And what made her particularly—crotchety, -was that she had wanted to adopt -this girl, and the girl's relatives had refused. For -what reason, it is impossible to say! For the -relatives were not over-rich, nor over-fond -of the girl.... Probably it was because the -relatives were not offered enough money.... -Anyway, the elderly person had a quarrel with -the relatives, and the elderly person went off -in a huff, which she afterward regretted—and -would have gone back and said so, only -about this time some urgent business affairs -called her away from home. Before she went -she thought of a plan whereby she could give the -young girl she liked a rest from her relatives, -and at the same time help her to develop her -character. For the elderly person had long -cherished a belief that most young girls in their -early teens would do better in after life if -they had a chance to develop their characters, -for a time, away from the influence of their -parents or guardians.... Having heard of -three other young girls whom she thought it -would be interesting to try the experiment on, -the elderly person sent out invitations to all -four, adding a little inducement, in the shape of a -sum of money, to each."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway, having now touched on a subject -in which she was evidently greatly interested, -went on to express her ideas about character -development at some length, adding that when she -was a girl herself she had suffered from -character-suppression, and had been cramped and moulded -by her own parents so that she had not an idea -nor opinion of her own all the years she lived under -their influence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was merely an echo," she said, "and all my -thoughts and opinions were second-hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway's roman nose seemed to be -contradicting these words even as they were -uttered, but her keen, earnest eyes assured one that -she was speaking the truth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think there comes a time," she went on, -"when it is best for every girl to think and act for -herself—to get used to relying on herself, and not -on others. This does not mean being rebellious, -you know—it means just clear thinking, and acting -self-reliantly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So absorbed did Miss Crabingway become in her -theory that she forgot all about the 'elderly person' -and slipped unconsciously into the first person, -mentioning the little girl she had wanted to adopt -by name. Even before she mentioned the name -the other three girls had guessed who it was, and -several quiet and curious glances had been cast in -the direction of Beryl as she sat, silent and pale, -her eyes on the ground. The girls had expected -that Miss Crabingway was going to say something -special about Beryl by the way her glance kept -wandering to Beryl's face, studying it affectionately, -yet anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, I was anxious to try the experiment, -but most of all I was anxious to obtain congenial -companions for—for Beryl," Miss Crabingway -continued. "I induced Beryl's relatives to allow her -to come and stop at the house while I was -away—it doesn't matter how I induced them.... -And then I made a few rules; one for the purpose -of keeping these relatives from worrying Beryl—of -course it was a little hard on you other girls, -perhaps..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>("I should think it was," thought Isobel to herself.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"... But it was only for a short while, and -it would help to develop character—and, after all, -elderly people </span><em class="italics">will</em><span> have their little fads and -whims—especially if they're eccentric," she said the last -word a little bitterly, as if recalling some one's -opinion of her. "Well, the plan has worked out -fairly successfully, I hope.... Whether your -visit here has strengthened your characters—only -the future can show. I shall never know—because -I did not know you before—but you will each be -able to judge for yourself.... I hope very much -that it has helped you all, and done you all good.... -Of one thing I feel sure—it has done this old -house good to have fresh young people about the -rooms and up and down the stairs. The place -had grown old and grave and silent through -long association with old and silent people. -It needed some laughter and young -voices..." Miss Crabingway paused. "I have had -constant news of you all, from Martha ... and -Martha says everything has gone along all -right?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a questioning note in Miss Crabingway's -voice as she paused again and scanned the intent -young faces before her; so that presently Pamela, -catching the inquiring gaze directed on herself, -said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I think it has—I hope it has—anyway, I -have enjoyed being here very much, and it has -done me good—in many ways. Though being -cut off from home was awfully hard to get used -to...."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She had scarcely realized yet that her feelings, -or in fact the feelings of any of them excepting -Beryl, were a matter of secondary importance to -Miss Crabingway. Beryl was the chief reason for -the invitation to stay at Chequertrees, for the rules -drawn up for them to observe during their stay, -for the offer of fifty pounds each. It was all -done for Beryl's sake, for Beryl's happiness. It was -difficult at first to readjust one's outlook and see -things from this new point of view.... But why -had Miss Crabingway chosen Pamela to act as -hostess? Possibly because when she saw Beryl -and 'took a fancy to her' she recognized that -Beryl was not the sort of girl to like the position, -and so had relieved her of the responsibility -and left her free to devote herself to whatever -work she preferred and to develop her character -unfettered. To Pamela, Isobel, and Caroline it -seemed an elaborate yet simple explanation of their -invitation to Chequertrees. In order to achieve -her ends Miss Crabingway seemed to have taken -unnecessary trouble, the three girls thought; but, -of course, they were not acquainted with Miss -Crabingway's 'eccentric' ways, neither did they -know the nature of one of the relatives of -the little girl Miss Crabingway had wished to adopt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were still some questions that the girls -wanted answered. What had the locked door -got to do with the story? And how did Miss -Crabingway know that they would prove -'congenial' companions for Beryl?—as a matter of -fact all of them had not. It was surely rather -risky to invite them without seeing them?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to say that I think Pamela -has been a splendid hostess," remarked Caroline, -suddenly and unexpectedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This was echoed at once by Isobel and Beryl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Miss -Crabingway, smiling. "I knew Pamela's mother, -and I knew her grandmother—and I felt sure I -was safe in choosing Pamela. Of course there was -a risk—a great risk; you might have turned out -a dreadful set of girls! ... But Martha would -have told me if anything had been going wrong—and -I should have managed to come down from -Scotland for a week-end to see for myself.... -I—I want to hear now what you think of my plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She looked across at Beryl; but Beryl's eyes were -on the ground and she was silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel and Caroline both said they considered -it a great success; they had enjoyed themselves -immensely. And then Isobel went on to tell Miss -Crabingway about Sir Henry and Lady Prior, and -how the rule about relatives had placed her in -an awkward predicament—at which Miss Crabingway -seemed much amused, to Isobel's concealed -annoyance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, well, never mind," said Miss Crabingway, -"you can soon put matters right. Lady Prior -is coming here this afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This afternoon!" echoed Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. I have sent out invitations to a few friends -I thought you might all like to meet to-day—that's -why I thought we would have this little -'business' talk this morning.... And so -you—you have had a happy time here—have you, -Beryl?" Miss Crabingway put the direct question -looking earnestly across at Beryl, who was still -sitting motionless, her face very pale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I think you planned everything very well," -stammered Beryl. She said no more, but sat gazing -miserably before her at the opposite wall. A -tremendous struggle was going on in Beryl's mind; -she was working herself up to do a thing she shrank -from with all her might. "I must do it </span><em class="italics">now—now</em><span>. -I owe it to her," the thought pricked her -conscience. "Why not tell Pamela, and get her -to explain to Miss Crabingway—or ask to speak to -Miss Crabingway alone," urged another thought. -"But the other girls are sure to hear in the -end—and get the story a roundabout way—probably -exaggerated," she argued to herself. "Oh, but -it is so hateful—telling it before them all—and it -will hurt </span><em class="italics">her</em><span> to hear that I am the only one of -the four of us who has failed her... Much -better speak out now—it'll be much the best in -the end.... Oh, but I can't.... I haven't -got the courage...." And so the struggle -went on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now we come to the real business of the -day," said Miss Crabingway. "I must just ask -you each a question or so about the rules I drew -up, and then we shall know what to do when -Mr Sigglesthorne arrives this afternoon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She then went on to ask each girl if she had tried -to find out what was in the locked-up room. And -one after the other each gave her word of honour -that she had not.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A smile flickered across Miss Crabingway's face. -"Then Joseph Sigglesthorne has lost," she said. -"And I'm very glad. You can see what the room -contains—only my personal belongings and papers. -When I locked them up I had a small wager with -Joseph Sigglesthorne regarding the curiosity of -girls. He said one or more of you </span><em class="italics">would</em><span> look -through the keyhole, in spite of everything—I -said you would </span><em class="italics">not</em><span> ... and I have won. He now -owes me a photograph of himself," Miss Crabingway -laughed to herself. "He has never been taken -before, and hates the idea—but the loser pays, and -go to the photographer he must. I'm sure it will -be a dreadful likeness—and I shall frame it and -hang it on the wall as his punishment.... I -suppose you wonder why I chose Joseph Sigglesthorne -as my deputy—to bring my invitation to -each of you. Eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we did rather wonder," admitted Pamela.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I couldn't come myself, being so rushed for time, -and so I chose the shrewdest person I knew. I -knew I could trust him to see what kind of girls -you were—but had I known for certain how wrong -he would be about 'girls' curiosity' I don't think -I should have trusted him.... I knew he would -appear a bit singular, but I didn't mind that.... -What did it matter? The whole idea was just -an eccentric old woman's whim—and your parents -allowed you to humour me, as I hoped they would." And -here Miss Crabingway began to chuckle, and -she went on chuckling until she was obliged to -get out her handkerchief and dry her eyes. The -girls meanwhile sat looking on, uncomfortable, -and not knowing whether it would be more polite -to laugh also or keep serious. Miss Crabingway -puzzled them; one minute she was quite business-like -and sensible, and the next she was talking in -an apparently inconsequent way. When she had -dried her eyes and become serious again, Miss -Crabingway went on to question them about the -other rule she had made, and said she supposed -that none of them had seen, spoken, or written -more than post-cards to their various relatives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have seen Lady Prior—but not spoken; -I've told you all about that, haven't I?" said -Isobel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes—yes—oh, that's all right," replied Miss -Crabingway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Isobel knew that her Wishing Well wish had -come true, and that she had not done anything -to forfeit her fifty pounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Both Pamela and Caroline said they had strictly -observed the rule, Pamela mentioning, at the same -time, how she had caught sight of her father in -London.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, of course, that's all right. Quite -unavoidable—quite. That's good then, so far...." She -turned to Beryl, but before she could speak, Beryl, -who looked ghastly white, stood up suddenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's something I want to tell you all," she said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="beryl-confesses"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XIX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">BERYL CONFESSES</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Beryl looked down at the surprised and -inquiring faces gazing up at her, and her -new-found courage flickered for a moment—and -she had thought the struggle for courage was -over; but only for a moment did she pause and -twist her fingers nervously together. Now she -had burnt her boats she must go through with it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I—I—oh, Miss Crabingway—I didn't know—I -never guessed you wanted me—but I can see -things clearly now. You thought out such a kind -plan to help me a bit and give me happiness—and -I have been happy here—in spite of everything. -But—oh, how can I tell you—I have failed you, -the only one of the four of us who has failed you. -Instead of growing stronger in character I have -grown weaker—I know I have.... I have been -so afraid to tell the truth. I thought—I thought -Isobel would despise me if she knew I'd been to a -Council school..."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel started.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"... if she knew my Aunt Laura kept a small -and shabby shop and served behind the counter; -if she knew," her voice dropped, "where my father -died.... I felt out of place in this house at first -among these others who had nice clothes and -manners—my clothes were all wrong.... Pamela—Pamela -has been a brick—I told her something -about all this, and she helped me not to mind. But -I've said so many things that were not true since -I've been here—I'm telling the truth now, though, -I am indeed. And, oh, I'm so sorry—I couldn't -help it—but I—I have seen and spoken to my -Aunt Laura several times since I've been here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What!" exclaimed Miss Crabingway. Had, -then, the thing that she had taken such trouble -to avoid happened after all?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Beryl. "A few weeks ago I came -suddenly face to face with her one dark night—the -night we returned from London, in the -rain—you remember?" She half turned toward -Pamela, then went on quickly: "I didn't speak -to her then. I was frightened, and ran on quickly -to join the others who were a little way ahead. -When I got home I discovered that while we had -all been out my Aunt Laura must have got into -the house and made her way to my bedroom, where -she had left a note for me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline leant forward at this point.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were quite right in thinking some one had -been in your room that night, Caroline. She -mistook it for mine, and in rummaging about to -see if she could find any indication to show that -it was my room she disarranged some of your things. -I'm so thankful she didn't take anything from -your room—she might have done, you know, but -luckily you hadn't left any money lying about. -It was money she wanted. In the note which she -was afraid to send through the post, but left in my -room instead, she told me that I must let her have -five pounds immediately, or she would be -summoned—and might have to go to prison. And -then what would people think of me, she said, living -in luxury and letting my aunt, who had brought -me up like her own daughter, go to prison! The -money was very urgently needed, she said, and -she told me where and when I could meet her -outside the village and hand her the money.... -So I met her," Beryl went on in a dreary voice, -"and handed her the money I had recently received as -pocket-money—but it wasn't enough.... Afterward -she wanted more money—and at last I had to -borrow a pound from Pamela—who was good enough -to trust me and ask no questions—and I lent this -to my aunt as well. She made me promise, on my -honour, never to tell a soul about this money-lending, -or about her speaking to me, as if I did I should lose -the fifty pounds, and it was very important that I -should not do this, she said; no one would ever know -about her coming to see me—for, of course, no one -knew her in the village. When she came down to -Barrowfield she would generally stop the night, -sometimes two nights, at that little cottage -opposite—so that she could watch me, and wait her -opportunity to get money. She knew she could frighten -me into doing what she wanted—and she did -frighten me—shadowed me—followed me about.... -It was she who was up at the Wishing Well -that night, Pamela—do you remember? Aunt -Laura only came down here occasionally—whenever -she wanted more money. For a long time after -I was here I never dreamt she was anywhere near -the village.... I—I think, from what she has -said to me, that she thought it very unfair for me to -have anything that Cousin Laura couldn't share—and -was awfully angry because I couldn't give -her more money; she had got it into her head -that there was a lot of money to be had here, and -she hated the idea of Pamela, Isobel, and Caroline -having any money that might have come to -me—and so to her, and Cousin Laura.... Oh, -Miss Crabingway, I never knew the truth about -you wanting to adopt me." Beryl had hard work -to keep her voice steady. "She never told me you -had wanted to adopt me.... But it's a good job -you didn't—now that you know what I am.... -Oh, I hate myself," she burst out passionately, -and the tears which she had kept back for so long -sprang to her eyes and began rolling, unheeded, -down her cheeks. "It's all been such a muddle of -little deceitful things—and all for a few wretched -sovereigns.... I've broken my word to you, -and I've broken my promise to my aunt, and told -you everything now—and may this be the last -promise I shall ever break."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Poor Beryl had been so long in fear of her Aunt -Laura and what she might do, and had brooded -on the whole matter so much, that she had -exaggerated everything in her own mind until it had -assumed giant proportions; she felt she had -forfeited all right to respect from the others, and had -spoilt the great chance of her life—the chance of -being adopted by Miss Crabingway. Beryl had -certainly been weak, and had told stories, and had -broken her word to Miss Crabingway and to her -aunt—still, that was the extent of her misdoings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway, looking at her, thought that -things had been made too hard for Beryl. If only -there had been somebody to stand by her and help -her—Miss Crabingway pulled herself up sharply. -Had she made a mistake in thinking that all girls -need to develop their character without any -outside help and control? It might answer in three -cases out of four; but there was always the fourth -case—the girl who had not had the advantages of -a happy, fearless childhood. It was fear, fear of -some one or something, that made people deceitful -and made them tell untruths. Miss Crabingway -felt a rush of keen disappointment that her plans -had been spoilt, that the one girl for whom she -had taken so much trouble had failed her. And -yet Miss Crabingway felt that she herself was more -to blame than Beryl. She might have known that -Beryl's aunt would try to obtain money from the -child, if she thought she had any. She might have -known that Beryl would not have had an upbringing -that would have taught her to be frank -and fearless if it came to keeping her word to Miss -Crabingway and facing the consequences of her -aunt's wrath, had Beryl refused to answer her -request for money.... Beryl had been outspoken -enough now that the end had come ... and the -consequences...?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the silence which had followed her -last words had become unbearable to Beryl. -Burying her face in her hands—she was crying in -earnest now—she passed quickly out of the room, -and the door clicked sharply behind her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pamela half rose, as if to follow her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, do," said Miss Crabingway huskily, and -stood up herself. "Tell her—everything will be -all right. Poor child! She's not to blame—it's -I—I might have known her Aunt Laura wouldn't -leave her alone.... Where did she say the woman -stayed? ... I wonder if she's there now by any -chance? ... I'm going to see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And while Pamela went in search of Beryl -Miss Crabingway strode hatless across the green -in search of the woman with the limp, leaving -Caroline and Isobel to discuss the whole affair in -detail.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>What Miss Crabingway said to Beryl's aunt, whom -she found on the verge of departure from the little -white cottage with the green shutters, it is not -necessary to record. It is sufficient that she gave -Aunt Laura so stern a dressing-down that at the end -of half an hour Aunt Laura was reduced to a meek -acceptance of Miss Crabingway's terms. The aunt -confessed to Miss Crabingway how, when Beryl -had come to Barrowfield, she had followed her down -by the next train, and by good fortune had -discovered the little house opposite Chequertrees where -apartments were to be had. And so she had put up -there from time to time while her daughter Laura -looked after the shop at Enfield, so that she could -watch what Beryl was doing 'playing the lady' -while her poor Cousin Laura served bacon and -rice and currants in the stuffy little shop. On -Cousin Laura's account, "poor, dear, good girl," -she seemed to resent greatly Miss Crabingway's choice -of Beryl, and thought she was justified in getting -all she could from Beryl, considering that she had -brought her up like her own daughter ever since -Beryl's mother had died.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And now she's spoilt all her chances—and -mine as well," said Aunt Laura. "Tell her to -pack up her things and come home with me in -half an hour. I was just about to start off myself, -not knowing——"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That I would be back sooner than you expected—you -didn't wish to meet me, I presume?" said -Miss Crabingway.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You bet," said Aunt Laura, inelegantly. "My -poor little Laura's worked to death in the shop, -so you go and tell that haughty miss to pack up -quick and come along home with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But nothing was further from Miss Crabingway's -mind. She was determined to give Beryl another -chance. And so she told Aunt Laura, much to -the latter's surprise. They talked the matter over -again, and after much haggling on Aunt Laura's -part, and threats on Miss Crabingway's part, and -arguments on both sides, they at length came -to a hard and fast agreement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The result of which was that Miss Crabingway -returned to Chequertrees to greet Beryl as her -newly-adopted niece, while Aunt Laura limped away to -the station with her purse a little heavier than -when she came, and took the train back to Enfield -and Cousin Laura. She limped away out of Beryl's -life and out of this story once and for all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And so Beryl's Wishing Well wish came true.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="a-new-beginning"><span class="bold large">CHAPTER XX</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="bold medium">A NEW BEGINNING</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That same day, in the afternoon, a group -of happy people were gathered on the -lawn chatting together in Miss Crabingway's -garden—for the guests she had invited were -no others than Pamela's mother and Michael and -Doris; Isobel's mater and brother Gerald, and -Lady Prior and her two daughters; and Caroline's -mother—a plump, placid little soul, remarkably -like her daughter in appearance. Miss Crabingway -had thought this little surprise would please the -girls—and it would be nicer for them to travel home -with their own people.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Miss Crabingway admitted to herself that she -would have liked all the girls to stay a few days -longer, so that she could get to know them better, -but all arrangements had been made and she could -not upset them at the last moment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The only person, of course, who had no relatives -to meet her at the garden party was Beryl. But -to judge from her happy, smiling face as she helped -to hand round the tea she did not regret this fact. -Her gratitude to Miss Crabingway was deep and -sincere, and she meant to do all in her power to -live up to the best that was in her. She and Miss -Crabingway had had a long and serious talk together -in the early afternoon, which ended in mutual -expectations of a happier future for both of them. -Though Beryl had lost her fifty pounds, she had -gained far more in Miss Crabingway's friendship; -and, although she did not know this at -present, Miss Crabingway had made up her mind to -give Beryl a fairly substantial pocket-money -allowance now that she was her properly adopted niece. -Beryl was to continue her musical studies—that -had already been arranged.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Freed from the shadow of Aunt Laura, and the -bullying and the secret threats, Beryl felt a different -girl—and looked it too. Her only tinge of sorrow -was the parting with Pamela—but even that was -to be only for a time. Later on Pamela was to -come and stop with her for a holiday, and -she and Miss Crabingway were to visit Pamela's home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As for Pamela, she was in a real 'beamy' mood -this afternoon at having mother and Michael and -Doris with her again. She showed them all over -the place, pointing out her favourite spots. She -even found an opportunity of introducing them to -Elizabeth Bagg.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm so glad you've seen everything and everybody," -she said. "Now you will be able to see -things in your mind's eye when I talk about them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the afternoon Michael tried to get into -conversation with Isobel's brother Gerald, who was -about his age, but found it difficult work, as Gerald -was far more interested in his own immaculate -clothes, and smooth hair, his cigarette, and the -various girls present, than he was in Michael or -anything Michael had to say.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Isobel and her mater hung delightedly on Lady -Prior's words, and as they sat in the shade of the -trees at the end of the lawn, an invitation to -come and stay at the Manor House sometime in -the near future was given to Isobel, and accepted -eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Caroline methodically piloted her mother round -the house and garden, and presently left her talking -to Mrs Heath while she went indoors at a signal -from Pamela, who whispered, "Miss Crabingway -wants us a minute."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the drawing-room Pamela, Caroline, and Isobel -found awaiting them Miss Crabingway and Mr -Joseph Sigglesthorne (who had just arrived). With -due solemnity the girls were each presented with a -cheque for fifty pounds, and the news was broken -to Mr Sigglesthorne that he was to go and have -his photograph taken, at which he looked very -crestfallen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was just one other little incident that -took place before the afternoon came to a -close—it had been crowded out of the morning's -events.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girls gave Miss Crabingway the small gifts -they had made for her: Pamela, a sketch of -Chequertrees; Caroline, a hand-embroidered -tray-cloth; Beryl, a waltz which she had composed -herself, and had copied out in a manuscript -music-book. She offered it to Miss Crabingway very -shyly and with much diffidence. "It's the only -thing I could do myself," she said apologetically. -Isobel presented her photographs, enlarged and -handsomely framed; they were photographs of the -other three girls in the garden. Miss Crabingway -was immensely pleased and touched by the girls' -thought for her. Something of their own work; -she could not have wished for anything better, -she said, and thanked them warmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To Martha and Ellen each of the girls gave a -little gift, such as a pair of gloves, and -handkerchiefs, and bottles of eau-de-Cologne, and -in addition each gave a photograph of herself -(having overheard Martha express a wish for the -photographs).</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just in case you forget what I look like and -don't recognize me next time I knock at the front -door," said Pamela laughingly to Martha.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, Miss Pamela, just as if I'd forget you," -said Martha. "But you couldn't have thought of -a better present, or one that would please me -more, and I thank you and I shall value it greatly. -What </span><em class="italics">is</em><span> nicer than a nice photograph, I always say."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And now dusk has fallen and all is silent in Miss -Crabingway's garden. The laughter and voices -have died away, and far away through the night -rushes a train bearing Pamela, her mother, and -Michael and Doris, homeward. Mr Heath is -waiting at Marylebone Station to meet them, and -Olive and John have been allowed to stay up an -hour later than usual in order to welcome home -their long-absent sister.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In another train Caroline and her mother journey -back to the busy little provincial town where they -live. While Isobel, seated beside her mater, with -a cosy coat wrapped round her, whirls along the -country lanes in the motor which brother Gerald -is driving.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An old gentleman climbs into a crowded bus at -Charing Cross; he has a remarkably high, bald -forehead, which becomes visible when he removes -his hat; he stands holding on to a strap in the -bus, his thoughts far away. He is thinking of a -little country village, and in the midst of all the -bustle and life of London he feels suddenly lonely. -The bus rattles on toward the Temple—and he -thinks of his deserted, paper-strewn room in Fig -Tree Court, and he is overcome by a great -wave of pity for himself; he begins to feel -exceedingly sorry for himself. Suddenly his expression -changes to one of dismay and exasperation—he -has remembered that he must visit a photographer -to-morrow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same moment, far away down at Barrowfield, -there is a light in the drawing-room of -Chequertrees, and some one is playing softly on -the piano. Miss Crabingway sits on the couch -by the fire, a book in her hands—but she is -not reading. She is looking across at the girl -who is playing the piano and her eyes are full -of dreams.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The red blind in the dining-room, where supper -is being laid for two, shines warmly out from -among the rustling leaves that are whispering -round the house—just as it did six months ago. -But to-night the window of the little white cottage -opposite is dark, and there is no one watching the -red blind.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics medium">Uniform with this Volume</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">ROCK BOTTOM</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By QUEENIE SCOTT-HOPPER. Illustrated -in Colour by A. A. NASH.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">ANGEL UNAWARES</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By QUEENIE SCOTT-HOPPER. Illustrated -in Colour and Half-tone by -PERCY TARRANT.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">THE MYSTERY OF BARWOOD HALL</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By OLIVIA FOWELL. Illustrated -in Colour by SAVILE LUMLEY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">WINIFRED AVON</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By MABEL MARLOWE. Illustrated -in Colour by SAVILE LUMLEY.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">THE TAMING OF TAMZIN</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By ESMÈ STUART. Illustrated in -Colour by HELEN JACOBS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">A COTTAGE ROSE</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By MABEL QUILLER-COUCH. Illustrated -in Colour by PERCY TARRANT.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="bold">LITTLE MOTHER</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span>By RUTH MACARTHUR. Illustrated -in Colour and Half-tone.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>THE GIRLS OF CHEQUERTREES</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47471"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47471</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and -trademark. 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