*CHAPTER XII*
*IN WHICH ELIZABETH BAGG PAINTS A PICTURE AND ISOBEL HEARS SOME PLEASANT NEWS*
Pamela's friendship with the Bagg family developed rapidly, and shebecame a frequent visitor to 'Alice Maud Villa'--much to Isobel'samazement; Isobel was more than amazed, she was scandalized.
"I simply can't understand Pamela," confided Isobel to Caroline. "Whatcan she find in those Baggs? Even if Elizabeth Bagg can sketch abit--it's no excuse; they're not the _sort_ of people Pamela should liketo mix with. After all, Tom Bagg is only the village cabman! You can'tget away from the fact, can you now? You know what I mean--they're notPamela's sort somehow--I really am surprised at her taste."
But Isobel never said anything like this to Pamela. There was a certainair about Pamela at times that even Isobel respected, an air which, inthe present case, made Isobel feel instinctively that Pamela would notbrook any interference with her friendship with Elizabeth Bagg. SoIsobel did not criticize openly Pamela's attitude toward the Baggs; butshe criticized, and wondered, and was amazed in private to Caroline,whenever she thought fit.
There were two things that Isobel was trying to avoid. One was meetingold Silas Sluff in the garden, and the other was, asking any morequestions of Beryl. To avoid old Silas was fairly easy, as he seemed tobe trying to keep out of her sight as much as possible. To refrain fromquestioning Beryl was hard at first, but, although at times intenselycurious about some incident or other in connection with Beryl, Isobelremembered that she must be a sport, and managed to keep her tonguequiet. It needed a great effort sometimes, but she succeeded, whichmust certainly be put down to Isobel's credit.
As far as Pamela was concerned Isobel's approval or disapproval of herfriendship with the Baggs never worried her in the least. The matternever even crossed her mind. She spent many happy hours in ElizabethBagg's 'studio' watching Elizabeth paint, or finishing a sketch of herown, helped on by valuable hints and suggestions from Elizabeth, whogreatly encouraged Pamela in her work; just as Pamela helped Elizabethby her interest and genuine admiration for Elizabeth's painting.
Sometimes, when they were both at work in the studio, Pamela would beginto argue with Elizabeth over her attitude toward her brother Tom and hisviews on her painting.
"He's no right to call it 'wasting time,'" Pamela would protest. "Heought to be _made_ to understand what splendid work you aredoing--valuable work, too, if I'm not mistaken."
"He doesn't care for pictures at all," Elizabeth would reply. "And it'sno good crossing him--he's been very kind to me, you know, and has givenme a roof over my head, and food to eat; I only have to buy my ownclothes and my painting materials out of the money I earn by teaching;he provides everything else."
"But look what you do for him in return--cooking, washing, cleaning, andlast, but by no means least, looking after his six children for him. Howyou manage to do it all I'm sure I don't know! And yet he doesn't evenrecognize that the work you love most is done up here--here in yourstudio--at all odd moments of the day. And he calls this 'wastingtime.'" Pamela gave a short laugh. "Oh, it makes me so indignant," shesaid.
But her arguments were always in vain. Elizabeth would never make thesmallest attempt toward making her brother respect her art, but wouldcontinue to go on as usual after Pamela had left, smiling quietly toherself at Pamela's enthusiasm and indignation.
"She is very young," Elizabeth would say to herself, and then give asigh at the remembrance of when she herself was young and enthusiasticand indignant, when she had dreamed of doing great things in the worldof art--long before her sister-in-law had died, and she had come to keephouse for her brother. Then, when she was young, it had been an invalidmother who had claimed all her attention, so that she had never had timenor opportunities to make friends with young people of her ownage--young people who had interests in common with herself. She hadpainted and drawn in her spare time, and had even had a couple of termsat an art school, in the days before her mother had become a helplessinvalid. Then, when her mother had died, it had been Elizabeth'sintention to take a room in London by herself and set resolutely to workto earn a living by her painting; but before this plan could be put intoexecution news came that her aunt (Alice Maud) had met with an accident,and Elizabeth was asked to go and nurse her. She went. Elizabethplanned many things during her life, but other people always seemed tostep in and alter the plans--and Elizabeth allowed them to be altered,and drifted into the new plans with little or no resistance. That wasElizabeth's chief failing, her inability to strike out for herself. Asfar as art was concerned it was a loss, but her relatives had certainlygained in having so willing and conscientious a worker to look afterthem in their illnesses. For it was always somebody who was ill thatsent for Elizabeth. First, her mother, then her aunt, and finally, justwhen her thoughts were once again free to turn toward the room inLondon, her sister-in-law had begged her to come and look after herhouse and the children as she was taken dangerously ill. So Elizabethcame. And when her sister-in-law died she could not find it in herheart to refuse her brother Tom's request to stay with him and lookafter his six little motherless children.
Elizabeth used sometimes to dream about the wonderful room she had meantto have in London--the room where she liked to imagine that she wouldhave painted pictures that would have brought her fame and wealth. Asshe grew older she began to doubt whether she ever would have paintedpictures good enough or marketable enough even to pay for the rent ofthe room. She began to regret her want of initiative--after she had metPamela. She regretted that she had all along allowed her own affairs todrift. Why had she always allowed others to rule her life, shewondered. She had worked hard at her pictures--and then done nothingwith them when they were finished. There were scores of them packed oneon top of the other on the shelves of a big cupboard in her studio.
Having got permission to look through this pile of pictures one day,Pamela discovered that Elizabeth was decidedly clever at portraitpainting; the likenesses of one or two of the village folk, whom Pamelaknew by sight, and of Tom Bagg, and of several of the little Baggs, werevery well done indeed; and she asked Elizabeth why she did not do moreof this kind of work.
"I haven't done any portraits for a long time," was all that Elizabethreplied. "I don't know why."
The discovery of this branch of Elizabeth's skill set Pamela thinking.Apart from his annoying indifference to his sister's talent Tom Bagg wasa genial, good-natured, and quite likeable man, Pamela thought. Sheliked him more particularly after discovering him one evening sitting bythe fire in his living-room, smoking, and telling a long fairy story tohis children, who were gathered around him listening, enthralled. Itwas only occasionally that Daddy could be got to tell them a story; butwhen he chose he could tell a very good story indeed. Perhaps that wasone of the reasons why he was so popular at the 'Blue Boar.' Ensconcedin a chimney-corner seat in the old-fashioned parlour of the 'BlueBoar,' he would puff away at his pipe, and yarn to a few bosom friendsand occasional strangers for an hour at a stretch, much to the amusementof his audience. At home he was just as popular as a story-teller, andthe children would listen enchanted to his tales of adventure, offairies, and of pirates--and when he came to the humorous parts, wherehe always stopped to chuckle and shake before he told them the joke, thechildren could hardly contain their impatience, and while he pausedaggravatingly to take a pull at his pipe and chuckle again, they wouldshower eager questions upon him, giving him no peace until he resumedthe tale.
Elizabeth Bagg, when she was not upstairs in her studio, would sit in acorner 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. Thestory-telling was always done by firelight; directly the gas was lit, itwas supper and bedtime.
Pamela was present at more
than one of these story-telling evenings.Old Tom Bagg was used to talking before strangers and new-comers, andher presence made no difference to him. He was always polite, andpleased to see Pamela, and never seemed outwardly surprised at herfriendship with Elizabeth, though sometimes he would scratch the baldspot on his head and wonder to himself.
The first time Pamela saw the group in the firelit room listening to thestory-telling she was struck with an idea, which she afterwardcommunicated to Elizabeth.
"It would make a simply ripping picture--and you're so good atlikenesses--I wonder you don't do it," she urged.
And, after a while, Elizabeth Bagg did do it. She set to work up in herstudio, and began on a picture of Tom Bagg sitting in a firelit roomtelling a story to the children around him.
"Get the expression on his face when he's chuckling," said Pamela.
So Elizabeth watched him and caught the chuckling expression andtransmitted it to her picture.
"_Absolutely_," was the delighted Pamela's verdict when she saw it; andher enthusiasm roused Elizabeth to put her best work into the painting,although she had no future plans for it when it was finished. Possiblyit would have drifted finally into the cupboard in her studio.Elizabeth, with her tiresome lack of initiative, would have taken nofurther trouble with the picture after it was done.
But Pamela had a plan for the firelight picture which she did notmention to Elizabeth Bagg, but waited eagerly for the completion of thepainting.
Meanwhile Isobel, unable to get Pamela or Beryl to join in havingdancing-lessons with her, had at length, much to her own surprise,prevailed on Caroline to come to Madame Clarence's with her twice aweek. As Caroline sat over her sewing so much, and had very littleexercise, these visits to the Dancing Academy probably did her a greatdeal of good. Not that she enjoyed dancing; but being persuaded that itwas good for her health, she took her lessons regularly and solemnly,just as she would have taken medicine twice daily after meals had shethought she should do so. Although Isobel (to use her own expression)was not 'frightfully keen' on Caroline, yet she found her useful in yetanother way besides being a companion to travel with to and fromInchmoor.
When Isobel heard that Sir Henry and Lady Prior and family had returnedto the Manor House, she lived for a few days in a state of pleasurableexpectation, from which state she was presently transported into one ofintense joy. For she discovered that the Manor House Priors actuallywere connected with her--though very distantly, it must be confessed.
And Caroline was the medium through whom she learnt this eventful pieceof news.
Finding that Caroline was the only one of the girls likely to get intoimmediate touch with Lady Prior, through the bazaar work-party meetingswhich Caroline had begun to attend, Isobel asked her if she would takethe first opportunity of speaking to Lady Prior, and informing her thatIsobel Prior, who was staying at Chequertrees, would have liked beyondanything to help at the bazaar only she was afraid she was restrictedfrom doing so by the instructions of Miss Crabingway, who had said thatnone of the girls staying at Chequertrees were to visit or be visited byany relations whatsoever; and Isobel thought it possible that she mightbe a relation of Lady Prior's. Of course, Isobel impressed upon Carolinethat she was to be sure to say that Miss Crabingway did not know thatthis restriction of hers might apply in any way to Lady Prior, or shewould assuredly not have made such a rule. Then Isobel asked Carolineto explain all about Miss Crabingway's whim, and to make matters quiteclear to her ladyship. She also wrote down for Caroline all the factsabout the Prior family-tree that she knew, giving her father's fullname, and age, and profession, and the names of his various brothers,cousins, uncles, and so on.
All this Caroline faithfully related to Lady Prior in due course, andcame back from her first interview with the news that Lady Prior wasgoing to consult Sir Henry about it, and would tell Caroline what hesaid at the next meeting, as she did not know any of the Christian namesof the gentlemen Caroline had mentioned, but was quite amused at MissCrabingway's queer instructions.
Isobel was somewhat chilled by this news, and wondered to herselfwhether the 'dowdy-looking' Caroline had prejudiced her case in LadyPrior's eyes.
"Of course, never having seen me she may think I'm something of the sameclass as the friend I choose to act as my deputy," thought Isobel toherself, and eyed the unconscious Caroline with secret disfavour.
However, Caroline returned from the next bazaar meeting with betternews. Sir Henry had informed Lady Prior that Mr Gerald Prior ofLancaster Gate and Ibstone House, Lower Marling, was a third cousin ofhis, whom he had never seen, though he had heard of him. This put freshheart into Isobel, and she went to church the following Sunday to seewhat the Priors looked like--though she took care to keep a safedistance in case any unforeseen accident should happen, and she shouldmeet them. She wondered what the mater would do under thecircumstances. But, contemplating that when the six months elapsed shewould be free to go and visit these new-found relatives, and be fiftypounds the richer for the waiting, she decided that it was wiser towait, especially as Lady Prior now knew the circumstances and wouldunderstand.
So she gazed on the Prior pew from a distance, and noted with pride therich and fashionable clothes its occupants wore, and the respect thefamily seemed to awaken in the other members of the congregation.
Though Isobel did not want to own it, even to herself, she was somewhatdisappointed in the facial appearance of her father's third cousin andhis family. Sir Henry himself was small and pompous, with sandy hairand moustache, and his broad, pinkish face was plentifully besprinkledwith freckles; he wore glasses which were rather troublesome to keep onthe flat bridge of his wide, short nose. His eyebrows were invisiblefrom a distance, but his gold watch-chain and the diamond in the goldring on the little finger of his right hand sparkled and glistened inthe sunshine that streamed through the stained-glass windows.
Lady Prior was well preserved and had evidently been pretty in heryouth, but now she was inclined to be plump, and had developed adouble-chin, and a florid complexion; her mouth was too small for therest of her features, making her nose look too prominent; her eyes werelarge and good. The two daughters of the house next claimed Isobel'sattention; they were upright, pleasant-looking girls with their mother'sfeatures, but their father's colouring--freckles included. Neverthelessthere was a certain air about them which Isobel could find no morefitting term for than 'distinguished.' She had learnt from Carolinethat there was also a son of the house, but he was not present thatmorning in church.
Isobel gazed from afar, and then went home to Chequertrees feelingrather out of humour with everything and everybody because of the 'sillywhim' of Miss Crabingway's which had cut her off from these desirablerelations.
When the girls had almost completed the third month of their stay atChequertrees Martha reminded them that they would possibly receive acommunication from Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne shortly, with whom MissCrabingway had left instructions concerning the replenishing of thefunds of the household. Supplies were running out, Martha said, and shehoped they would hear promptly.
But several days went by and no word came from Mr Sigglesthorne (for thevery good reason that he had forgotten all about them).
Then one morning a letter posted in Scotland arrived from Miss EmilyCrabingway. It was very brief, and merely instructed Pamela, Beryl,Isobel, and Caroline to go up to London with Martha on the day followingthe receipt of letter, and deliver the envelope which was enclosed to MrJoseph Sigglesthorne at his rooms in Fig Tree Court, Temple, E.C.
"What can this mean?" said Pamela, after she had read the letter toMartha.
Martha smiled and shook her head. "Unless it is that Miss Crabingwayknows what a forgetful gentleman Mr Sigglesthorne is, and wants to givehim a shock by sending you all to remind him," she suggested.
It may as well be stated here that this was not Martha's own idea, butone communicated to her in a recent note from Miss Crabingway.
As this would be the first jour
ney to town that the girls had made sincethey came to Barrowfield, they were rather excited and pleased, and setabout making plans for the morrow's journey in high good spirits; theyrecalled for each other's benefit their previous meeting with MrSigglesthorne. It was decided to lock up the house, as Ellen saidrather than stay at home alone all day she would go and visit somefriends in the village, who had been begging her to come and see themfor a long time, and would meet their train at the station on theirreturn. This matter being satisfactorily arranged, and time-tablesconsulted, clothes overlooked and holes in gloves mended, the four girlsended the day with another dance in the drawing-room to celebrate their'one day's release' from Barrowfield, as Isobel put it.
The next day was fine and warm, though a few mackerel clouds high in thesky made it difficult to dissuade Caroline from putting on her goloshesand taking an umbrella. Poor Caroline, her little fads were alwaysbeing laughed at by the other three! But she took all their remarksvery good-naturedly as a rule. Her umbrella she did eventually abandon,reluctantly, but she took a small canvas bag with her, which she saidcontained her purse and handkerchief, and some knitting to do in thetrain. But there was more in it than these things; the bulge at theside of the bag was a very tightly-rolled, light-weight mackintosh, andthe bulge at the bottom was the much-ridiculed goloshes. Caroline didnot explain the bulges, and the girls were too busy with their ownaffairs by the time she came downstairs with her bag to bother to teaseher any more.
And so the four girls and Martha set out to visit Mr JosephSigglesthorne.