*CHAPTER XVIII*
*THE DOOR IS UNLOCKED*
A couple of days before Miss Crabingway was due to return Beryl made anopportunity to speak to Pamela about the money she had borrowed.
"I haven't got it on me at present, Pamela," said Beryl. "But I'll besure to let you have it back. I'll send it to you by post, withoutfail. It was awfully good of you.... I have got your address, haven'tI? Oh, yes, I wrote it down in my note book."
"That's all right. Don't worry about that--any time will do," saidPamela. "If I could help you in any way----"
But Beryl thanked her and assured her that everything was all right, andhurriedly changed the subject.
Miss Crabingway was expected home on the Friday morning, so the girlsmade all their final preparations on the Thursday evening, and Pamelaand Beryl and Isobel (Caroline was busy packing) spent an hour after teain picking flowers and arranging them in every room in the house.
"Why, it's like as if the garden 'as come inside the house," criedMartha, passing through the hall as Pamela was arranging a big bowl ofroses on a small table by the front door.
"Aren't they lovely?" said Pamela, burying her nose in them. "And wedon't seem to have robbed the garden a bit--there are heaps more.... Ialways think flowers give one such a welcome, don't you, Martha? ... Andthese are going to stand on the mat, as it were, and be the first toshake hands with Miss Crabingway to-morrow, to welcome her home."
But, after all, it was not the bowl of roses that welcomed MissCrabingway home; it was a pot of shaggy yellow chrysanthemums that stoodinside the french windows of the drawing-room that night. Pamela did notknow this, though, until the following morning, after breakfast.
Pamela noticed, when she put her head inside the kitchen door on her wayto breakfast that Martha and Ellen were whispering together in asubdued, excited way, and that they stopped at once on catching sight ofher and went hastily on with their work.
"I'm just bringing the coffee in, Miss Pamela," said Ellen.
While Martha took the boiled eggs out of the saucepan with aself-conscious expression on her face, and in her efforts to appearunconcerned dropped one, and it broke on the kitchen floor. In theunnecessary energy she put into the work of clearing it up she was ableto hide her embarrassment and regain her composure.
This was not lost on Pamela, who felt that there was a certainatmosphere of mystery in the kitchen--which was entirely foreign to thelight, sunny room, with its shining brass and purring kettle, anddelicious smell of baking bread.
"Is anything the matter, Martha?" she could not help asking, when calmwas restored and the broken egg replaced. "There's nothing wrong, isthere?"
Martha and Ellen exchanged quick glances, and then Martha laughed.
"Why, bless my heart, why should there be?" she replied. "Of coursethere's nothing wrong." And she laughed again.
But Pamela felt vaguely uneasy--why, she did not know. She ate herbreakfast thoughtfully, and did not talk half so much as she usually didat breakfast-time. All the girls were more silent than usual, as if thecoming events of the day were already casting their shadows over them.
As soon as breakfast was finished Martha appeared suddenly in thedining-room doorway and said,
"I was to ask you all if you would please step up and see MissCrabingway now.... She is in her own room...."
The girls looked at each other in astonishment. Miss Crabingway here!In her own room! The locked-up room? When did she arrive? None ofthem had heard her come.
They turned to Martha with a dozen questions, but Martha only smiledmysteriously and shook her head.
"Miss Crabingway arrived late last night," she said when there was apause in the questioning; "so late that she did not knock at the frontdoor, in case she woke you all up ..."
"Then how--?" Isobel began.
"I heard some one tap on the french windows in the drawing-room, just asI was going to lock up for the night.... It was Miss Crabingway," saidMartha.
"But why--" said Isobel.
Martha moved out of the doorway. "Miss Crabingway is waiting for you,"she said.
The girls had all risen, and were standing round the table.
"Yes, we'd better go," said Pamela.
But none of them moved for a moment. They were gradually readjustingtheir plans to meet the present occasion--their plans for welcoming MissCrabingway, which were all spoilt now. Instead of being able to catch aglimpse of her before she saw them--being able to watch her enter thegarden gate, and come up the path to the front door--here she was intheir midst, ready to welcome _them_.... And they had meant to put ontheir pretty summer dresses--and here they were with only their morningblouses and skirts on.... However, there was no time to changenow--Miss Crabingway was waiting to see them. It was useless to try toremember all the things they had meant to say and do before meeting MissCrabingway--there was no time for regrets. Before they realized what washappening they were mounting the stairs in solemn, single file, Pamelaleading the way and Caroline bringing up the rear--while Martha stood atthe foot of the staircase, an enigmatical smile on her face.
Outside the room door which had been locked to them for so long thegirls stopped. All was silent within. Each of the girls felt as if theloud beating of her heart must be heard by the other three. They wereall rather nervous. What would they see on the other side of thedoor?--the door which they had so religiously avoided going near, untilnow. What would Miss Crabingway be like?--Miss Crabingway, who had madesuch queer rules for them during their stay in her house.
Pamela knocked gently on the door with her knuckles.
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 andthe four girls went in.
Each of the girls, at some time or other during the last six months, hadimagined the meeting with Miss Crabingway at the end of their visit; theimagined meetings had been dramatic or comfortable, according to thegirls' moods or temperaments; but none of them had imagined anythinglike the meeting that actually occurred. To begin with, no one hadthought of it taking place in the locked-up room, curiously enough.
Miss Crabingway, who had been sitting at the farther end of the room ina low wicker chair beside a table littered with papers, rose as theyentered and stood gazing toward them intently. For the space of half aminute she stood quite silent, taking stock of her four visitors--andthey stood gazing at her.
Quite unlike Pamela's imagined picture of her, Miss Crabingway was smalland thin, about fifty years of age, with exceedingly bright eyes andbushy white hair. Her nose was large and aquiline, of the varietygenerally termed roman. It is supposed that people with large noseshave strength of will and character; it may have been Miss Crabingway'snose that indicated her character, but it was certainly her eyes thatappeared to be the most compelling _force_ about her; they were eager,restless, keenly-alive-looking brown eyes. After the girls had noticedher eyes and nose and hair, and her thin-lipped wide mouth, they becameaware that Miss Crabingway was dressed in a coat and skirt of some softdark brown material. It was odd to see Miss Crabingway dressed, withthe exception of a hat, as if to go out of doors at this time in themorning; at least, it seemed odd to the girls, who had expected to findher having breakfast in bed, perhaps, or, at any rate, sitting in aflannel dressing-gown.
There was no time at present to take in the details of the 'locked-uproom,' but the first impression was one of sombreness with regard to thefurnishings, and although it was an airy room, with a very high ceilingand four windows, yet it seemed a dark room on account of the ivy whichgrew round the windows, and even across the panes in some parts. Thenit was gradually borne in upon the girls that nearly everything in theroom was duplicated!
There were two four-poster beds with exactly the same coloured hangingsand draperies, two chests of drawers, two ottomans (gay and modern andchintz-covered), two wicker-chairs, two small round
tables, twofire-places--one at each end of the long room--and two carpets which metin the centre of the floor, two high wardrobes, and so on--so thatwhenever one caught sight of something fresh, one immediately lookedround for its double--and was sure to find it. The ornaments on the twomantelpieces were exactly the same.... All this fascinated one sostrangely that Pamela even found herself about to look round for twoMiss Crabingways.
But there was only one Miss Crabingway, and her keen eyes travelled fromone to another of the girls, and then quickly returning to look again atBeryl, remained staring at her critically.
Then all of a sudden she began to talk as if continuing a conversationwith the girls which had already been in progress for some time. Thegirls hardly took in what she said--they were so surprised--butafterward, when they tried to remember, it seemed to have been somethingabout red serge and water-cress, and the difficulty of living in roomsup six pairs of stairs, if you were a plumber and suffered fromrheumatism.... When they thought this over seriously, it seemed toosilly; but, nevertheless, it was certainly the impression the girls gotof Miss Crabingway's torrent of conversation. The manner in which MissCrabingway appeared to be continuing some discussion with them puzzledthe four girls greatly at first; afterward, they learnt that this wasone of Miss Crabingway's little peculiarities--she never publiclyrecognized the existence of introductions and farewells, but on seeing afresh arrival would continue a conversation as if the new-comer had beenthere all the time. She would greet some one who had been absent foryears as if he or she had just walked down the garden to see how thelettuces were growing and had then wandered back into the house again.It was an odd trick of Miss Crabingway's, and an inconvenient onesometimes, besides being bewildering. Yet it gave a curious impressionthat Miss Crabingway was with you all the time, and that she had beenwatching you throughout the years with those eager eyes of hens. In thesame manner she declined to say good-bye, always giving the impressionthat she was coming along with you--in fact, would catch you up in a fewminutes, before you reached the station. It was only when you had beentalking with her for some time that you discovered that she did realizethere were such things as absence, time, and space.
"However," Miss Crabingway continued, "I want to have a short talk withyou all.... But why stand by the door, my dear girls? There are plentyof chairs, and an ottoman here by the window."
At this invitation the girls crossed the room and seated themselves inchairs and on the ottoman, which held two--Beryl and Caroline.
"We are very pleased to meet you, Miss Crabingway, and we want tothank--" Pamela began, when Miss Crabingway broke in suddenly.
"What was the date yesterday?" she asked.
Pamela, taken aback for a moment, replied, "Oh--the 27th, I think."
"Ah," said Miss Crabingway. "Yes, I'm glad I sent Joseph Sigglesthornethat telegram. He never can remember dates--especially after the 8th ofeach month. They always send him in two rashers of bacon every morningfor his breakfast during the first week in each month--after that theygive him boiled eggs every day until the end of the month, and itbecomes 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 therestaurant or coffee-house, or whatever it is that supplies him withbreakfast; but he's used to it, and he doesn't like change--so it's nogood my talking or giving him calendars--I just send him a telegram."
Miss Crabingway seated herself and began rustling and sorting the paperson the little table in front of her.
"And now," she continued in her decisive voice, flashing a glance roundher puzzled audience, and once again looking last and longest at Beryl,"I didn't ask you to come up here in order to discuss JosephSigglesthorne's breakfast--as you will doubtless guess. I asked youhere to tell you a true story, and, if you please, don't speak to meuntil I've finished."
Without more ado Miss Crabingway gave a dry little cough and beganhurriedly:
"There was an elderly person who was rich, and lonely--" she paused fora second, then added with emphasis, "and crotchety! Yes, that's whatshe was, though most of her acquaintances called her eccentric, andquaint--out of politeness.... As she grew older she grew more and morelonely; and realizing one day (when she was feeling ill and depressed)that she couldn't take her money with her when she died, she determinedthat she would make use of it now and give some benefit and enjoyment toherself, and, if possible, to others.... She--she had taken a greatfancy to a young girl she had come across recently--the daughter of avery old and valued friend who died some years back.... And what madeher particularly--crotchety, was that she had wanted to adopt this girl,and the girl's relatives had refused. For what reason, it is impossibleto say! For the relatives were not over-rich, nor over-fond of thegirl.... Probably it was because the relatives were not offered enoughmoney.... Anyway, the elderly person had a quarrel with the relatives,and the elderly person went off in a huff, which she afterwardregretted--and would have gone back and said so, only about this timesome urgent business affairs called her away from home. Before she wentshe thought of a plan whereby she could give the young girl she liked arest from her relatives, and at the same time help her to develop hercharacter. For the elderly person had long cherished a belief that mostyoung girls in their early teens would do better in after life if theyhad a chance to develop their characters, for a time, away from theinfluence of their parents or guardians.... Having heard of three otheryoung girls whom she thought it would be interesting to try theexperiment on, the elderly person sent out invitations to all four,adding a little inducement, in the shape of a sum of money, to each."
Miss Crabingway, having now touched on a subject in which she wasevidently greatly interested, went on to express her ideas aboutcharacter development at some length, adding that when she was a girlherself she had suffered from character-suppression, and had beencramped and moulded by her own parents so that she had not an idea noropinion of her own all the years she lived under their influence.
"I was merely an echo," she said, "and all my thoughts and opinions weresecond-hand."
Miss Crabingway's roman nose seemed to be contradicting these words evenas they were uttered, but her keen, earnest eyes assured one that shewas speaking the truth.
"I think there comes a time," she went on, "when it is best for everygirl 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--itmeans just clear thinking, and acting self-reliantly."
So absorbed did Miss Crabingway become in her theory that she forgot allabout the 'elderly person' and slipped unconsciously into the firstperson, mentioning the little girl she had wanted to adopt by name.Even before she mentioned the name the other three girls had guessed whoit was, and several quiet and curious glances had been cast in thedirection of Beryl as she sat, silent and pale, her eyes on the ground.The girls had expected that Miss Crabingway was going to say somethingspecial about Beryl by the way her glance kept wandering to Beryl'sface, studying it affectionately, yet anxiously.
"You see, I was anxious to try the experiment, but most of all I wasanxious to obtain congenial companions for--for Beryl," Miss Crabingwaycontinued. "I induced Beryl's relatives to allow her to come and stopat 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 theserelatives from worrying Beryl--of course it was a little hard on youother girls, perhaps..."
("I should think it was," thought Isobel to herself.)
"... But it was only for a short while, and it would help to developcharacter--and, after all, elderly people _will_ have their little fadsand whims--especially if they're eccentric," she said the last word alittle bitterly, as if recalling some one's opinion of her. "Well, theplan has worked out fairly successfully, I hope.... Whether your visithere has strengthened your characters--only the future can show. Ishall never know--because I did not know you before--but you will eachbe able to judge for yourself.... I h
ope very much that it has helpedyou all, and done you all good.... Of one thing I feel sure--it has donethis old house good to have fresh young people about the rooms and upand down the stairs. The place had grown old and grave and silentthrough long association with old and silent people. It needed somelaughter and young voices..." Miss Crabingway paused. "I have hadconstant news of you all, from Martha ... and Martha says everything hasgone along all right?"
There was a questioning note in Miss Crabingway's voice as she pausedagain and scanned the intent young faces before her; so that presentlyPamela, catching the inquiring gaze directed on herself, said:
"I--I think it has--I hope it has--anyway, I have enjoyed being herevery much, and it has done me good--in many ways. Though being cut offfrom home was awfully hard to get used to...."
She had scarcely realized yet that her feelings, or in fact the feelingsof any of them excepting Beryl, were a matter of secondary importance toMiss Crabingway. Beryl was the chief reason for the invitation to stayat Chequertrees, for the rules drawn up for them to observe during theirstay, for the offer of fifty pounds each. It was all done for Beryl'ssake, for Beryl's happiness. It was difficult at first to readjustone's outlook and see things from this new point of view.... But whyhad Miss Crabingway chosen Pamela to act as hostess? Possibly becausewhen she saw Beryl and 'took a fancy to her' she recognized that Berylwas not the sort of girl to like the position, and so had relieved herof the responsibility and left her free to devote herself to whateverwork she preferred and to develop her character unfettered. To Pamela,Isobel, and Caroline it seemed an elaborate yet simple explanation oftheir invitation to Chequertrees. In order to achieve her ends MissCrabingway seemed to have taken unnecessary trouble, the three girlsthought; but, of course, they were not acquainted with Miss Crabingway's'eccentric' ways, neither did they know the nature of one of therelatives of the little girl Miss Crabingway had wished to adopt.
There were still some questions that the girls wanted answered. Whathad the locked door got to do with the story? And how did MissCrabingway know that they would prove 'congenial' companions forBeryl?--as a matter of fact all of them had not. It was surely ratherrisky to invite them without seeing them?
"I should like to say that I think Pamela has been a splendid hostess,"remarked Caroline, suddenly and unexpectedly.
This was echoed at once by Isobel and Beryl.
"I'm glad to hear you say that," said Miss Crabingway, smiling. "I knewPamela's mother, and I knew her grandmother--and I felt sure I was safein choosing Pamela. Of course there was a risk--a great risk; you mighthave turned out a dreadful set of girls! ... But Martha would have toldme if anything had been going wrong--and I should have managed to comedown from Scotland for a week-end to see for myself.... I--I want tohear now what you think of my plan?"
She looked across at Beryl; but Beryl's eyes were on the ground and shewas silent.
Isobel and Caroline both said they considered it a great success; theyhad enjoyed themselves immensely. And then Isobel went on to tell MissCrabingway about Sir Henry and Lady Prior, and how the rule aboutrelatives had placed her in an awkward predicament--at which MissCrabingway seemed much amused, to Isobel's concealed annoyance.
"Ah, well, never mind," said Miss Crabingway, "you can soon put mattersright. Lady Prior is coming here this afternoon."
"This afternoon!" echoed Isobel.
"Yes. I have sent out invitations to a few friends I thought you mightall 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 timehere--have you, Beryl?" Miss Crabingway put the direct question lookingearnestly across at Beryl, who was still sitting motionless, her facevery pale.
"I--I think you planned everything very well," stammered Beryl. Shesaid no more, but sat gazing miserably before her at the opposite wall.A tremendous struggle was going on in Beryl's mind; she was workingherself up to do a thing she shrank from with all her might. "I must doit _now--now_. I owe it to her," the thought pricked her conscience."Why not tell Pamela, and get her to explain to Miss Crabingway--or askto speak to Miss Crabingway alone," urged another thought. "But theother girls are sure to hear in the end--and get the story a roundaboutway--probably exaggerated," she argued to herself. "Oh, but it is sohateful--telling it before them all--and it will hurt _her_ to hear thatI am the only one of the four of us who has failed her... Much betterspeak out now--it'll be much the best in the end.... Oh, but Ican't.... I haven't got the courage...." And so the struggle went on.
"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 thisafternoon."
She then went on to ask each girl if she had tried to find out what wasin the locked-up room. And one after the other each gave her word ofhonour that she had not.
A smile flickered across Miss Crabingway's face. "Then JosephSigglesthorne has lost," she said. "And I'm very glad. You can see whatthe room contains--only my personal belongings and papers. When I lockedthem up I had a small wager with Joseph Sigglesthorne regarding thecuriosity of girls. He said one or more of you _would_ look through thekeyhole, in spite of everything--I said you would _not_ ... and I havewon. He now owes me a photograph of himself," Miss Crabingway laughedto herself. "He has never been taken before, and hates the idea--butthe loser pays, and go to the photographer he must. I'm sure it will bea dreadful likeness--and I shall frame it and hang it on the wall as hispunishment.... I suppose you wonder why I chose Joseph Sigglesthorne asmy deputy--to bring my invitation to each of you. Eh?"
"Well, we did rather wonder," admitted Pamela.
"I couldn't come myself, being so rushed for time, and so I chose theshrewdest person I knew. I knew I could trust him to see what kind ofgirls 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 knewhe would appear a bit singular, but I didn't mind that.... What did itmatter? The whole idea was just an eccentric old woman's whim--and yourparents allowed you to humour me, as I hoped they would." And here MissCrabingway began to chuckle, and she went on chuckling until she wasobliged to get out her handkerchief and dry her eyes. The girlsmeanwhile sat looking on, uncomfortable, and not knowing whether itwould be more polite to laugh also or keep serious. Miss Crabingwaypuzzled them; one minute she was quite business-like and sensible, andthe next she was talking in an apparently inconsequent way. When shehad dried her eyes and become serious again, Miss Crabingway went on toquestion them about the other rule she had made, and said she supposedthat none of them had seen, spoken, or written more than post-cards totheir various relatives.
"I have seen Lady Prior--but not spoken; I've told you all about that,haven't I?" said Isobel.
"Yes--yes--oh, that's all right," replied Miss Crabingway.
And Isobel knew that her Wishing Well wish had come true, and that shehad not done anything to forfeit her fifty pounds.
Both Pamela and Caroline said they had strictly observed the rule,Pamela mentioning, at the same time, how she had caught sight of herfather in London.
"Oh, of course, that's all right. Quite unavoidable--quite. That'sgood then, so far...." She turned to Beryl, but before she could speak,Beryl, who looked ghastly white, stood up suddenly.
"There's something I want to tell you all," she said.