*CHAPTER XVII*
*IN WHICH OLD SILAS LAUGHS AND ISOBEL DANCES*
Madame Clarence's reception took place a week before the girls' visit toChequertrees came to an end. As one of Madame's 'show' pupils Isobelwas to do a special dance by herself on this occasion; she had beenlooking forward to this, and had bought a special dress for the dance,made of white silk. She had practised the steps and movements of thedance over and over again before a long mirror in her bedroom, until shecould do the dance to her complete satisfaction. Madame wasenthusiastic over it, and told Isobel privately that she thought shewould be the success of the evening--which pleased Isobel greatly, andmade her determine that she would do her best to make Madame's wordscome true.
In her white silk frock, her pretty fluffy hair dressed becomingly andtied with a soft blue ribbon, she looked very dainty and graceful as sheran down the stairs to the dining-room for Pamela and Beryl to inspecther before she put her cloak on.
Caroline, who, of course, was to dance at Madame's reception also (butnot by herself), was "not quite ready yet," she called out to Isobel asthe latter passed the bedroom door on her way down. Caroline was to weara white frock too; but white did not suit Caroline's complexion, and thestyle of her dress rather emphasized her heavy build and plump arms.However, as Caroline surveyed herself in the mirror she was not soconcerned about her frock or complexion as she was with the intricaciesof one of the dances she was to take part in that evening. She feltsure 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 todance alone, like Isobel, but only with a crowd of other girls.
Pamela, Beryl, Martha, and Ellen had been invited by Isobel and Carolineto come as their guests to the reception. Each pupil of Madame's couldbring two friends with them, and Isobel claiming Pamela and Beryl forher two, Caroline suddenly had the nice idea of inviting Martha andEllen.
It was arranged that Isobel and Caroline were to go on ahead of theirguests, as Madame had expressed a wish that all her pupils would arriveat least half an hour before the visitors were expected, so thateverything and every one would be ready to start promptly to time. Itwas just beginning to get dusk when the two girls were actually readyand 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 theseven o'clock train.
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 tocarry it over her arm and wrap it round her in the cab if she feltchilly. Caroline did not care how hot she felt; she put on her cloakand buttoned it up to the neck, telling Isobel she thought she wasfoolish and that she might not only catch a cold but would get her dresssoiled in brushing against the cab door, and so on. But Isobel laughedand asked Caroline if she was going to take her goloshes and umbrella incase 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 Carolinepassed out of the front door and down the garden.
And then a catastrophe happened.
Isobel, who was some way in front of Caroline, was passing a low thickbush half-way along the path to the gate, and had turned to make somelaughing remark, and wave her hand to Pamela at the front door, whensuddenly a pailful of garden rubbish--mostly weeds with black, wet soilclinging to their roots--came shooting over the bush, and descended in ashower all over Isobel and her pretty white silk frock.
A PAILFUL OF GARDEN RUBBISH DESCENDED IN A SHOWER]
Isobel gave a scream, ran a few steps, and then stood stock-still, andgazed down at her frock and the coat on her arm.
"Oh, it's spoilt--it's absolutely spoilt!" she gasped, whipping out herhandkerchief and trying in vain to rub off the dirty, smeary marks onher sleeves and skirt. "Oh, Pamela, whatever shall I do? ... But who_did_ it? Who _did_ it?" she cried, lifting her head angrily, and shemade a dart round the side of the bush.
But there was no one immediately on the other side. About a dozen yardsoff, with his back to her, digging methodically away at one of theflowerbeds was old Silas Sluff.
"Oh!" cried Isobel. "It was you, then, was it? How--how dare-- Oh,you perfectly horrible creature!"
Silas, being deaf, took no notice, and so she ran forward, steppingrecklessly on his flowerbeds, and confronted him, her eyes blazing withanger.
By this time the others had come on the scene. Pamela, Beryl, followedby the dumbfounded Caroline, and presently Martha and Ellen, camerunning to learn what had happened and what had caused the delay. PoorIsobel certainly looked a woebegone sight, with great smears down herdress and on one cheek, and soil and weeds in her hair. Who would havebelieved that the soil would have been so sticky and wet--unless oldSilas had recently been watering the garden, which he didn't appear tohave been doing.
"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 suddenlyseized his spade, jerked it out of his hands, and flung it down on theground. "Look what you've done!" she repeated.
Old Silas straightened his bent back and looked at the dress in silence.
"You'll have to pay for this, my man!" Isobel raised her voice and spokeloudly and distinctly.
"Eh?" said old Silas, whose deafness appeared to be worse than usualto-day. Then he added, "Who will?"
"You," cried Isobel. "You'll have to pay for a new dress in place ofthis one you've spoilt."
Here Pamela joined in. After a great deal of difficulty, for the oldgardener seemed extraordinarily deaf and stupid, he was made tounderstand that he was being accused of throwing a pailful of rubbishover Isobel.
"And you did it _purposely_," added Isobel.
"Oh, Isobel, wait a minute," said Pamela. "Perhaps he didn't know youwere passing--perhaps he didn't hear you."
Old Silas was apparently not so deaf after all, for he caught thisremark, and looking at Isobel's dress and seeing that his handiwork waseven better than he had expected it to be, he decided in his own mind toretire now from this awkward scene in the manner most to his advantage;after all, he thought, there were four, five, six of them as witnessesagainst him here, and if they complained to Miss Crabingway he might bedismissed--which would not suit him at all.
"'Ere," he said at length, "what's that you sez I done? Eh? Well, I_did_ 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 itup afterwuds.... I never 'eard no one comin' along the path--I'm that'ard of 'earing, yer know.... I never 'eard no one..."
"But it's not usual for you to throw the rubbish over like that withoutlooking, is it?" asked Pamela.
But Silas stoutly maintained that it was, though nobody in the littlegroup around him had seen him do such a thing before to-day. Ellen, inthe background, squeezed Martha's arm and winked, whispering in her ear,
"Of _course_ he done it for the purpose. I told you he'd have hisrevenge on Miss Isobel for saucing him in the garden when she first camehere, didn't I now?"
Meanwhile Silas stubbornly held to his point that he thought he wasthrowing the weeds on the rubbish heap, and that he had not heard Isobelcoming past.
"Well, Isobel," said Pamela, "it won't do any good to prolong thisargument--and time's flying past. Let's hurry in and see what we can doto the dress--or you must wear one of mine. And, Beryl, will you explainto Tom Bagg and ask him in to wait for twenty minutes--we mustn't belonger than that." Then she turned to Silas. "I think," she said, "thatat any rate you might apologize----"
"Apologize! What good will that do! I don't want an apology from_him_," cried Isobel. "I'm too disgusted with him--besides, I _know_ hedid it purposely. He's just telling lies, because he is frightened nowat what he's done.... But if the dress is ruined beyond repair he shallpay for it--I don't ca
re what he says.... I'll make him pay, if--if Ihave to go to law about it." And without waiting for anything furtherIsobel turned on her heel and marched away into the house, followed byPamela, who was secretly longing to laugh at old Silas's expression andIsobel's theatrical outburst. In a few moments the group round Silasdispersed.
Silas stood for a while scratching the top of his head and looking atthe ground where Isobel had stood, then he picked up his spade andresumed his digging.
Presently he began to chuckle. "I said I'd learn 'er," he told himself."An' I _did_ learn 'er. Nice and slimy and wet them weeds were--an',after all, I _did_ only throw 'em on a rubbidge 'eap. That's what sheis."
Why old Silas had not taken his revenge on Isobel before this it isimpossible to say. He had not thought out any clear plan for a longtime, but had waited for an idea, and when he had got one he had turnedit over in his mind with relish for some time, and then begun to lookaround for an opportunity--and, at length, to-day he had found one.
While Tom Bagg waited in the hall, and Caroline wandered about asking ifshe could be of any use, Pamela and Beryl, finding that Isobel's dresscould 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 makeit fit Isobel. Pamela was more Isobel's build than either of the othertwo girls, and so her dress was not such a bad fit, and with the aid ofa needle and cotton, and some safety pins and a pair of scissors, itsoon began to look presentable on Isobel. Of course it did not look aspretty on Isobel as her own white silk had done--but it was fortunatethat Pamela had even a white muslin frock ready to lend Isobel in thisemergency. Martha and Ellen lent a hand, hurrying to and fro, lookingfor pins and scissors, and helping Isobel to brush the soil out of herhair and re-do it. For although they all knew that Isobel's conducttoward 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 topunish her for her treatment of him so many months ago.
There was no time to talk much--they all worked hard, and within half anhour Isobel and Caroline were safely packed away inside Tom Bagg's caband were jogging briskly along the road to Inchmoor.
Of course Pamela, Beryl, Martha, and Ellen had missed the seven o'clocktrain, and when they arrived at the Dancing Academy, and were shown intothe big dancing-hall, a great number of people were already assembled,and the first part of the programme had begun. Madame, who had receivedall her guests in the doorway and had shaken hands with each one, hadnow disappeared behind the door at the back of the raised platform atthe end of the hall. The four late arrivals managed to squeeze throughthe crowd that filled the lower half of the hall, and at length foundseats where they could obtain a good view of the evening's proceedings.
A glance round the hall conveyed the impression that Madame's receptionsmust be very popular affairs; there was scarcely a vacant seat to beseen. Most of the audience were relatives of the pupils or friends, orprospective pupils, but there were a number of people who wereoutsiders--people who had received a pressing and urgent invitation fromMadame at the last minute; for always before her receptions Madame wouldbe suddenly seized with an unreasonable fear that the hall would beempty of onlookers, or only half filled, and so she would send out ascore or so of these pressing and flattering invitations at random, andin a frantic hurry, a couple of days before the reception took place.And generally a few of these last-minute visitors would turn up.
The upper half of the hall, including the raised platform at the end,was reserved for the dancers, the baby-grand piano being well concealedby bamboo fern-stands and pots of flowering shrubs, so that the musicarose, apparently, from a bank of greenery and flowers. Prettily shadedlights were suspended at intervals from the ceiling.
Pamela and Beryl gathered from the conversation going on around themthat they had missed Madame's opening speech and the first dance, andnow the second dance was just about to start. A tall, thin lady in ablack evening dress, with lace frills at her elbows, and wearingpince-nez and a rather bored expression, appeared from the door at theback 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 acurious burring noise whenever it was played on; and this particularnote seemed to recur again and again in the barn-dance, so that Berylalways associated the music of that evening with this particular bassnote, and could hear it, in her head, whenever Madame's name wasmentioned.
Twelve girls all dressed in white, and twelve youths in regulationevening-dress, took part in the barn-dance, which was enthusiasticallyapplauded by the audience. This was followed by a graceful,old-fashioned minuet and several solo dances, each of which Martha saidwas nicer than the one before. But of all the dances, there were justthree that the onlookers from Chequertrees remembered best. The firstwas Isobel's dance, the second a flower-dance in which Caroline tookpart, and the third a weird dance done by Madame Clarence herself.
Isobel's dance was a great success, as Madame had prophesied. Almost upto the moment when she first appeared on the platform Isobel had beenfeeling out of humour and disappointed on account of her white silkdress; 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 theskirt of Pamela's white muslin frock. It was sheer pleasure to watchIsobel's graceful movements, and she seemed to be enjoying the dance sothoroughly, that every one else felt they were enjoying it too. Couldold Silas have seen her smiling light-heartedly as she danced across thehall he would never have recognized her as the same girl who had stoodbefore him a few hours previously, savagely angry. Pamela and Berylwere astonished at the change in Isobel; they had not expected her to beable to throw her annoyance off so completely.
At the end of the dance a storm of applause broke out, and Isobel wasencored again and again. Back she came, blushing and smiling andbowing--a transformed Isobel, her eyes bright with excitement. Thesuccess of the evening! That's what she had hoped to be--and that waswhat she was. As she bowed her acknowledgments after her encore dance,her smiling gaze, wandering round the faces of the audience, lighted onthe faces of two girls, whom she recognized as Lady Prior's daughters;they were applauding her enthusiastically, Isobel saw to her delight.
On the other side of the platform door Caroline waited, listening to theapplause that was greeting Isobel, and she couldn't help thinking thatit was rather a shame that no applause like this was ever given to themost choice piece of needlework imaginable. She tried to conjure upvisions of rapturously applauding audiences encoring an embroideredtea-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 fewminutes' genuine pleasure and happiness was of more use than a tea-cosy,but Caroline would never have agreed with her. Thinking of the manyhours she had sat over her needlework, and the delicate stitchery shehad done, for which she had received nothing more than an occasionalword of praise, Caroline felt all at once aggrieved, realizing theunfairness of things in general. She couldn't remember feeling likethis before, and marvelled at herself. Why had she got this suddendesire for praise? Perhaps it was the knowledge that the dance in whichshe was to appear came next on the programme, and she knew that she wasno good at dancing. She wondered why Madame had insisted on her takingpart in this dance; Madame liked every one of her pupils to appear onthe occasions when she gave a reception, providing, of course, that theywere passable dancers. She thought Caroline a passable dancer, and soshe was until she forgot her steps. And Caroline felt convinced she wasgoing to forget them on this occasion; she wished she had, on thepresent occasion, that sense of capability she would have felt if shehad been going on the platform with a needle and thread in her hand.
Caroline felt so sure she would forget a cert
ain part of theflower-dance that, of course, she did forget it. With twenty othergirls, each carrying a trail of artificial roses, she danced on to theplatform 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 wasconscious that Martha nodded and beamed encouragingly at her, and feltsomewhat cheered by this attention on Martha's part. And then, when thecritical part of the dance arrived--whether it was that Caroline wasgiddy with whirling round and round, or whether it was because she hadthought to herself, "Now, this is where I shall go wrong," will never beknown--but after a brief but vivid impression that she was dancing upthe side of the wall, and that the audience were spinning round andround her like a gigantic top, Caroline found herself alone in themiddle of the hall, with her feet tangled in a trail of artificial rosesand her hair tumbling about her face.
The audience was clapping and laughing. Caroline was overcome withconfusion and, flushing painfully, tried to disentangle herself from theroses. The other girls were grouped together in a final tableau at theother end of the hall, beside the platform. They were all titteringwith laughter too. Caroline made a desperate effort, and, disentanglingherself, dashed across to them and tried to obscure herself among thetwenty. And in another minute the dance was over and they were all'behind the scenes' again.
Madame received her with honeyed words, but the tone of her voice wasacid. She had thought that Caroline's dancing would pass at leastunnoticed, and now it had been noticed in a very unenviable way.
Poor Caroline! She felt both ashamed and sorry for herself. "I knew Ishould never remember that part," was all she could say--and thereafterremained quiet and sulky, brooding over the 'ridiculous sketch' she musthave looked before all that laughing audience. "I never did likedancing," she said to herself later, "and now I hate it."
Fortunately Madame Clarence's own dance followed soon after Caroline'sblunder, and the impression made by Madame was such as to sweepeverything else into the background for the time being.
It certainly was a remarkable dance, and one that Madame had inventedherself. Madame was dressed in a startling black frock embroidered withgold, and wore yellow earrings and a long chain of yellow beads, andbright yellow shoes and stockings. Madame's expressive hands played agreat part in the dance, which, as previously mentioned, wasremarkable--far more remarkable than beautiful. It seemed to Ellen, whogazed spellbound, as if Madame must surely end by breaking her neck, orone of her legs, so full of twists and curves was the dance; indeed, attimes it was all Ellen could do to keep herself from giving littleshrieks or crying 'oo-er' aloud. However, she enjoyed it immensely, andso did the rest of the audience, judging by the applause Madame receivedand the huge bouquets which suddenly appeared and were handed up to heras she came to bow her thanks, smiling delightedly and kissing her handto the audience.
During the evening there was an interval in which coffee and cakes werehanded round, and everybody became very chatty, and Madame wanderedabout among her guests conversing and receiving compliments. Ellenseemed to be fascinated by Madame, and followed her movements around thehall admiringly.
Beryl watched the evening's proceedings with sad, preoccupied eyes. Shesmiled and talked brightly enough when anyone spoke to her, but her facein repose wore an anxious, worried look. During the previous week hermoods of depression had been very frequent, and worse than usual, foreven her music had been neglected and the piano had been closed andsilent. She was enjoying the evening at Madame Clarence's, but she wasnot by any means at ease. Pamela had noticed this and was a littlepuzzled. That Beryl was far from anxious for their six months' stay atChequertrees to come to an end Pamela was aware; and she did not doubtthat Beryl dreaded Miss Crabingway's return, because it meant Enfieldand Aunt Laura for Beryl; but she felt that there was something morethan the coming parting to account for Beryl's preoccupied manner andavoidance of any confidential talk with her.
Madame Clarence's successful evening coming at length to a close, Madamestood at the door again and shook hands effusively with her guests asthey passed out, receiving more compliments, and herself telling everyone how "vewy, vewy kind it was of them to come."
During the journey home Caroline was wrapped in gloom, but Isobel was inhigh good spirits and chatted and laughed excitedly, all thoughts of oldSilas having been driven from her head--until the following morning whenshe returned the muslin dress to Pamela.
Finding, on examination, that her own silk dress was not irretrievablyspoiled, but would come up as good as new when washed, Isobel decided totake no further steps to show her displeasure toward Silas.
"He's not worth taking any more bother about," Isobel decided, partlybecause she really felt that, and partly because she did not knowexactly what to do to punish him--beyond reporting him to MissCrabingway, which might lead to awkward questions about her own conduct,she realized.
And so Silas Sluff heard no more about the rubbish heap.