*CHAPTER XVI*
*PAMELA'S WISH COMES TRUE*
It would be pleasant to be able to record, now that the visit toChequertrees draws to a close, that the four girls had made considerableprogress in the work that they had set themselves to do. But this wasnot quite the case.
Caroline had certainly done an immense amount of needlework, but she hadlearnt no dressmaking nor 'cutting out'; her needlework was simply arepetition of work she could already do. And the dancing-lessons shehad attended had scarcely improved her ability, or rather inability, fordancing; but they were good exercise for her, and had improved herhealth. It seemed to Caroline as if she would never be able to learnsome of the dances Madame Clarence taught, not even if she attended theAcademy for twenty years; she did not know why--simply, she could notgrasp them. Sometimes it seemed to Caroline as if her feet were inleague against her; her right foot would come forward and point the toewhen it ought to have remained stationary and let the left foot pointthe toe; and her left foot would raise itself up while the right footgave a hop, just when they both ought to have been gliding gracefullyalong the polished floor.... But in spite of these annoyances Carolinekept doggedly on with the lessons, and the improvement in her health wasmore than compensation for her lack of success as a dancer.
Beryl had advanced a great deal in her musical studies. She had hadtime and opportunity to practise and study her theory; time andopportunity had never been so liberally offered to her before, and nowthat they were offered she seized them eagerly--and made the most ofthem. 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 itwas 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 somethingsharp and sour." Caroline was puzzled, and pondered over this for along time, and then went to listen outside the door herself. She heardthe tune, and liked it--liked it so much that she went in and askedBeryl to play it again, much to Beryl's confusion and delight. Afterthat it became a regular institution; Caroline would take her needleworkinto the drawing-room and sit and listen whenever Beryl started to playher melody in E flat. For some reason or other this particular tuneappealed to Caroline; it made her feel pleasantly melancholy, and sheenjoyed the feeling, and would sit sewing and heaving long sighs atintervals. If Isobel were anywhere within hearing on these occasionsshe was rendered nearly helpless with stifled laughter. "There's poorold Caroline going in to have some more 'Green Apples,'" she wouldgiggle, and as the tune proceeded would stuff her handkerchief in hermouth and fly up to her room and shut herself in. Although this wasonly an early attempt at composing, it marked a chapter in Beryl'smusical career, and as she advanced her compositions became morenumerous and were better finished.
Isobel, who had not taken the question of work seriously, hadnevertheless made good progress in her dancing. Naturally a gracefuldancer, 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 ofboth of them. It may have been noticed that up to the present time nomention has been made of Isobel taking any photographs with the camerashe talked of buying; this was because she did not buy a camera until afortnight before her stay at Barrowfield came to an end; and then shewent and bought one with a definite purpose in view--the purpose ofgiving a gift of some photographs to Miss Crabingway on her return.
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 shehad meant to. The best of her sketches she intended to take home withher in order to show Michael what she had been doing, and what sort ofplaces she had been seeing, and what she had learnt from Elizabeth Bagg.
There was one thing that all four girls had managed to do, and that wasto 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 upwith each other--and, after all, it is only for a short time, not forlife," Pamela had remarked on one occasion. And so this sensibleattitude was adopted by all of them. Whenever the smoothly runningwheels of the household got stuck, as they were bound to occasionally, alittle lubricating oil from Martha or Ellen, or one or other of thegirls, soon set them running easily again. The stay at Chequertrees andthe contact of the various temperaments was bound to leave someimpression on each of the girls afterward; it was not to be expectedthat it could radically change them, except in small ways. They had allmore or less enjoyed their visit, and it had done them all good, in moreways than one. Martha and Ellen owned to each other in the kitchen oneevening that they would certainly miss the young life about the placewhen the girls had gone.
About a fortnight before the six months came to an end the girls weresitting in the garden one afternoon having tea under the mulberry treeat the end of the lawn, when Beryl made a suggestion.
"I was just wondering," she began hesitatingly, "whether we couldn't dosomething for Miss Crabingway, as a sort of--well, to show we've had anice time here in her house."
"What sort of thing?" asked Caroline, her mind running at once to giftsof hand-made tea-cosies and cushions.
"A jolly good idea, Beryl," said Pamela. "It would be nice to show herwe'd appreciated the stay here. I know that I, for one, have had a goodtime. What could we do, now, for Miss Crabingway?"
"When you say 'do something,' do you mean club together and buy her apresent?--or do you suggest we decorate the house with evergreens andhang WELCOME HOME in white cotton-wool letters on a red flannelbackground?" said Isobel, laughing. "Or does 'do something' meangetting up an entertainment for her pleasure, in which case you can putme down for a skirt dance--I've learnt a heavenly new step at MadameClarence's--you'll see it when you come to Madame's reception nextweek."
"I suppose you end the lessons the week after next?" said Pamela.
"Yes, last time on Tuesday week," replied Isobel. "Of course it's veryunusual 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, Isuppose. But it's the last time I shall be there--Tuesday week."
"Oh, don't let us talk about _last_ and _end_," said Beryl. "I wish itneedn't end--our stay here."
"Do you really?" said Isobel. "Oh, it hasn't been a bad time on thewhole, but I shan't be sorry to get back to town, and the shops andtheatres, and, of course, mater and all the rest of it."
"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 peopleagain."
"Oh, I am," said Pamela fervently. "I can't tell you how much I'mlooking 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 dofor Miss Crabingway? ... I don't know what you all think about it, but Ishould suggest that we each give her something original--give hersomething she couldn't buy in a shop in the ordinary way."
"Like--what?" asked Isobel.
"Well, for instance, Caroline could give her a piece of herhand-embroidered needlework."
"I wish we had thought of this earlier," observed Caroline, "I couldhave been working at something, in odd moments, all these weeks."
"You've still got a whole fortnight left, dear child," said Isobel."But what can _I_ do for Miss Crabingway? Suggest something, somebody,please! I can't do embroidery, like Caroline; nor draw pictures, likePamela; nor compose music, like Beryl.... By the way, Beryl, you oughtto compose a waltz, and call it 'The Emily Valse,' and dedicate it toMiss Emily Crabingway, you know. She would be _charmed_, I'm sure."
Beryl flushed quickly, not because she resented Isobel's joke, butbecause some such idea as Isobel suggested had flitted for a momentthrough her mind (barring the title of the composition).
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"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 foran idea?" Isobel laughed.
"Very good indeed," said Pamela.
And then the four girls began to laugh at each other, and with eachother, and make all sorts of wild and facetious suggestions, untilMartha came to the kitchen window and looked out, wondering what all thelaughter was about. But, in spite of all the joking about it, the ideawas seriously considered, and arrangements made for each to do her bestto give Miss Crabingway something of her own work in appreciation of thevisit to Chequertrees.
It was on this occasion that Isobel finally decided to buy her camerawithout delay and get some really interesting snap-shots of the girlsand the house, and have the best photographs enlarged and framed forMiss Crabingway.
"While we're on the subject," said Pamela, "I should like to givesomething or other to Martha and Ellen, wouldn't you? They've lookedafter us awfully well--what can we do for them, I wonder?"
They discussed presents for Martha and Ellen, and decided each to makeor buy something suitable within the next fortnight.
Pamela went round to see the Baggs after tea. She knew that it was oneof the days Elizabeth went over to Inchmoor and that she would not beback home again until seven o'clock, because it was the evening shestayed later to do her housekeeping shopping. But Pamela did not wantto see Elizabeth herself. She wanted to see her firelight picture,which she knew was just finished.
The eldest little Bagg girl was setting the table for her father's teawhen Pamela arrived at 'Alice Maud Villa.'
"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, butexpected in every minute.
Upstairs in the studio Pamela found Elizabeth's picture--finished. Shestood before it for some minutes, regarding it earnestly.
"Yes, it's the best thing she's ever done," she said to herself. "I'msure it is."
To Pamela's eyes the likenesses were excellent; Tom Bagg, with hisruddy, genial face, sitting in his big arm-chair by the fire, chuckling,and pointing with the stem of his pipe at his absorbed audience ofchildren, a habit of his when emphasizing any particular point in thestory. The expressions on the children's faces were delightful. Pamelalaughed softly to herself as she looked at them.
Then she went to the door, opened it, and listened. Tom Bagg had justcome in, and was inquiring when his tea would be ready.
"I'll wait till he's had it," thought Pamela. "He'll be in an extra goodmood then."
She went downstairs and chatted with him while he had his tea, and didher best to put him in as pleasant a mood as possible. She laughed athis jokes longer than they deserved, and encouraged him to talk; he wasalways happy when talking; and she kept an eye on the children so thatthey did nothing to annoy him. Frequently she would glance up at theclock, anxious to assure herself that Elizabeth was not due home yet.
At length, when Tom Bagg had finished his tea and had got out his pipeand tobacco pouch, she felt that her opportunity had arrived. She rose,and with rapidly beating heart went upstairs to the studio and fetchedthe firelight picture down. Without a word she placed it on a chairbefore the old cabman, who watched her movements with curious surprise.The little Baggs pressed forward and clustered round the picture, gazingin astonishment. For a second or two there was dead silence in the room.
"It's Daddy," said one of the children.
"An' us!" cried another shrilly.
"Your sister painted it," said Pamela to Tom Bagg.
Then they all began to talk at once--all, that is, except old Tom Bagg.Throughout the noisy interlude that followed he remained silent, staringat the picture. Pamela watched his face anxiously.
Presently he scratched the bald spot on the top of his head, and saidquietly:
"Well, I'm blowed!"
He had never seen any of Elizabeth's portrait studies before, and wasfilled with astonishment.
"But it's like me!" he said in surprise, as if that were the last thingto be expected.
"Of course it is," replied Pamela. "It's meant to be." Then she wenton to explain how Elizabeth had sat and watched him and the children andthen gone away and painted the picture up in her own room. She waslonging to talk about Elizabeth's work with all the enthusiasm she feltfor it, but she purposely kept her voice as quiet as she could, becauseshe guessed it would be wiser and more effective to let Tom Bagg thinkhe had discovered for himself how clever his sister really was.
Which is precisely what Tom Bagg came to think he had done. He was muchtaken by his own portrait.
"It's not a bad bit of work, eh?" he asked Pamela.
"It's a decidedly good bit of work--it's splendid," she replied.
The more Tom Bagg looked at the picture the more pleased he became withit.
"No," he said, "it's not at all a bad bit of work."
He stood with his head a little on one side regarding the picture.
And then the front-door latch clicked and Elizabeth Bagg stepped in.She caught sight of the picture immediately, and looked round the roomastonished, and annoyed.
"Oh, please forgive me," said Pamela, moving toward her. "I--I simplycouldn't help bringing it down..."
"Lizzie," said Tom Bagg, who felt wholeheartedly generous once he wasconvinced of anything, "this is not at all a bad bit of work. Whydidn't you tell me you could paint likenesses?"
He was evidently greatly struck with the painting, and seemed to admireit so genuinely, that any annoyance Elizabeth may have felt fadedimmediately, and she laughed a little nervously and said she was glad heliked it.
When Pamela had decided to bring the picture down to show to Tom Baggshe had not expected her action to do more than make Tom Bagg realizethe talent of his sister, and so make it easier for her to have moretime for her painting. Tom Bagg certainly did realize his sister'stalent at last; but the matter did not end there; he became so pleasedwith the picture that the following evening he carried it (withoutElizabeth's permission) down to the 'Blue Boar,' where he proudlydisplayed it to his bosom friends, and any strangers who happened todrop in while he was there, and was much elated by the unanimous praiseit received.
Whether you believe the Wishing Well had anything to do with the sequeldepends on whether you believe in Wishing Wells or not. Pamelaundoubtedly puts it down to the Wishing Well. She had wished thatElizabeth Bagg's work would gain recognition. And it did. It happenedthat a Mr Alfred Knowles, an influential art connoisseur from London,came into the 'Blue Boar' that evening just when Tom Bagg was showingthe picture to a group of men in the bar-parlour. Mr Knowles listenedwith great interest to Tom Bagg's explanations and remarks, and gettinginto conversation with the old cabman, questioned him closely about hissister's work. An introduction to Elizabeth Bagg followed, and MrKnowles was so delighted with her pictures that he purchased several andtook them back to town with him; he would have liked to buy thefirelight picture, but Tom Bagg seemed so anxious to keep it thatElizabeth decided not to part with it, but promised Mr Knowles that shewould have a reproduction made for him as quickly as possible. And sothe original picture of Tom Bagg telling stories to his children washung up over the mantel-piece in the living-room of the little cottagein Long Lane.
Pamela was delighted by the turn events had taken. Had she been able tosee 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 numerouspaintings, so that as time went on she was obliged to give up herclasses at Inchmoor in order to give all her spare time to her paintingat home. And with the money she earned Elizabeth was eventually able topay for some one to come and do the housework for her brother, andwashing and mending, and to help look after the children. For, thoughElizabeth achieved in time a small amount of fame, it never altered herdecision to stay and look after her brother and his children
.
"I couldn't be happy if I left them now," she would say, when temptedwith the thought of that wonderful room in London. Instead, she renteda room in Barrowfield, which she turned into a studio, and divided herdays between the studio and her brother's house.
As for Tom Bagg, he was bewildered yet gratified with the state ofaffairs; his respect for Elizabeth increased by leaps and bounds as hesaw how highly valued her work became. Gradually he came to wonder ifhe and the children were a drag on Elizabeth's career, and once heoffered her her freedom, and was deeply touched by her decision to staywith him....
And there was to come a day in the future when Pamela and Michael andElizabeth Bagg were to pay a visit to the Royal Academy to seeElizabeth's latest picture hung....
But all this was to happen some years after Pamela's first visit toBarrowfield was over. Up to the present time Elizabeth's pictures hadjust been bought by Mr Knowles--which was sufficient for Pamela to beable to announce to three interested girls at Chequertrees that herWishing Well wish had come true.