*CHAPTER IV*
*THE ROOM WITH THE LOCKED DOOR*
Isobel Prior and Caroline Weston had arrived together, having travelledin the same railway carriage, each ignorant of the fact that the otherwas bound for Chequertrees, until the waiting cab at the station hadmade this known to them.
"I'm simply _dead_," were the first words Pamela heard as she came outof the drawing-room to greet the new-comer. The speaker was awell-dressed, fluffy-haired girl with an aristocratic voice and bearing,who was standing in the hall amid a pile of luggage.
"Why, that sounds a cheerful beginning! Who is it that's dead?" askedPamela laughingly, as she came forward.
The girl stared rather haughtily at Pamela for a second, then smiled andshook hands.
"Oh, I suppose you are Miss Heath," she said. "I am Miss Prior. I'vehad a perfectly impossible journey here to-day, and I'm simply faggedout and perishingly cold."
"We must get you something hot to drink," said Pamela, "and you musthave a good rest. Would you like to come straight into the dining-roomand have a warm--there's a lovely fire there--or would you rather go upto your bedroom first?"
"Oh, _please_--a wash and tidy up first," said Isobel. "I must looksuch a fright----"
And then Pamela noticed that another girl was standing beside Martha,just inside the front door. A big plush curtain in the hall almost hidher from view.
"I'm awfully sorry--I didn't see anyone else had arrived," said Pamela."Are you--are you Miss Caroline Weston?"
The girl gazed stolidly at Pamela--a heavily-made girl, plumpish, andwearing spectacles; she carried a very neat handbag in one hand and avery neatly rolled umbrella in the other hand.
"Y-e-s," she said, in a slow, drawling voice.
Pamela shook her warmly by the hand, and then offered to take the twogirls upstairs and show them their rooms. As they passed thedrawing-room door Pamela caught sight of Beryl, who was waiting shyly inthe background, and she immediately introduced her to the others.
"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 tootired to want to bother to see all round to-night, and if you are youmust 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 upto their rooms. And, Martha, can we have some hot supper--in abouttwenty minutes, please?"
Once again the house was astir with the bustle of welcoming the latestarrivals. Martha vanished into the kitchen to prepare something hot andtasty for supper, while Ellen hurried to and fro with warm water forwashing, and carried boxes and parcels upstairs, and lit gases, andpulled down blinds, and generally made herself useful, while Pamela,followed by Beryl, showed Isobel and Caroline to their rooms, doing herbest as hostess to make them feel comfortable and at home.
Over supper the four girls became better acquainted. Naturally theywere all very curious to know why Miss Crabingway had invited the fourof them to Chequertrees, and they studied each other with interest,trying to find an answer to the riddle. Following Pamela's friendlylead they talked of themselves, and their homes, and the journey toBarrowfield. That is, all of them talked a good deal with the exceptionof Beryl, who still seemed very shy and only spoke when she wasaddressed directly.
Pamela was in one of her 'beamy' moods that night. She beamed andlaughed and talked and thoroughly enjoyed herself during supper, not alittle excited by all the strange surroundings and the strange newacquaintances she was making; perhaps it was her genuine interest ineverything and everybody that made her so jolly a companion--and sounself-conscious a one. Anyway, she liked girls--nearly all girls--andthey liked her as a rule. Of course she had her dislikes, but on thewhole she got on very well with girls of her own age. How was she goingto like and get on with these girls, all about her own age, who weresitting at supper with her this evening, she asked herself.
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 werecheap-looking and unsuitable for the time of year.
Isobel seemed to Pamela to be slightly disdainful of everything andeverybody; she had a habit of over-emphasizing unimportant words whenshe talked, and appeared at times to exaggerate too much. Her clotheswere well chosen and evidently of very good material, and well tailored.Her features, framed by her pretty, fluffy hair, were clear-cut andrefined; 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 gooddeal about her 'mater' and 'pater,' and her brother Gerald and hismotor-car.
Caroline, beside Isobel, looked very plain, and almost dowdy, in spiteof the fact that her clothes were good--the reason being that herclothes did not suit her at all. She had no idea how to make the bestof herself; her one great idea was to be neat at all costs. Herdrab-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 anyof her clothing, nor a hole in her stocking--and this was a credit toher, because she worked as slowly with her needle as she did witheverything else, though it must be owned that she was very fond ofsewing. Very slow, very methodical, very neat--such was Caroline. "Ibelieve she even dusts and wraps up in tissue paper each needle and pinand reel of cotton after she has finished with it," was Isobel's opinionafter she had known her a week; and although this may sound like one ofIsobel's exaggerated remarks, yet it was nearer the truth than sheherself dreamt when she said it.
What acquaintance had Miss Crabingway had with these three girls, Pamelawondered. And what had made her choose them--and herself. They made anoddly assorted quartette.
As they were rising from the supper-table she asked them whether any ofthem knew Miss Crabingway well, and learnt to her surprise that none ofthem had more than the slightest acquaintance with her. Neither Isobelnot Caroline could remember ever seeing Miss Crabingway, and Beryl saidvaguely that she had seen her once--a long time ago. Beryl said shebelieved that her mother had been a friend of Miss Crabingway's, manyyears back. Isobel said her mater had met Miss Crabingway abroad--hadhappened to stay in the same hotel--about six years ago. An uncle ofCaroline's, so she informed them, had once done some businesstransactions with Miss Crabingway, and had corresponded with her since,at intervals.
"Well, I can't make it out at all," thought Pamela to herself. "WhyMiss Crabingway should have invited us--four girls--practicallystrangers to her--to come and stay at her house while she is away.... Ican't see any reason for it.... Anyway, I suppose we shall know when shereturns."
The supper having considerably revived Isobel, she said she would liketo see over the house before she went to bed; and Caroline, having noobjection ready against this suggestion (except that she was half asleepin her chair), found herself joining in this tour of inspection andstolidly taking stock of the house that was to be her home for the nextsix months.
In a whispered aside to Pamela Isobel pronounced the dining-roomwall-paper 'hideous' and the drawing-room decorations 'perfectlyawful'--both remarks being overhead by Ellen, who glared at the back ofIsobel's head in silent indignation at this reflection on her mistress'staste. It was certainly not good manners on Isobel's part, but she wasnot over-sensitive about other people's feelings, and was rarely awareof the fact when her words or tone of voice had hurt or given offence.
On the first floor landing Pamela pointed out the locked door. Thegirls knew that they were forbidden to try to open it, or look throughthe keyhole, their instructions being the same as Pamela's.
ON THE FIRST FLOOR LANDING PAMELA POINTED OUT THE LOCKEDDOOR]
"And to think that one little action--just kneeling down and puttingyour eye to the keyhole--would make you lose fifty pounds!" exclaimedIsobel. "It's not worth losing all that money just for curiosity, isit?"
"Rather not," said Pamela. "I vote that we all keep away from that dooras if the pain
t on it were poisonous to touch."
"I'm sorry my room's next to it," Isobel went on, "but it doesn't reallymatter--though I like to keep as far away from temptation as I can ...not that I _want_ to look inside, but--you know the feeling--justbecause I know I mustn't----"
"I know the feeling," agreed Pamela. "But don't you think it would bewisest not to talk about it any more, or we shall all be dreaming aboutit to-night."
Ellen, who was leading the way up to the top floor where her own roomand Martha's room were situated, pricked up her ears at this.
"Dreams go by contrary," she said to herself mechanically, and,apparently, without meaning. Besides being a mine of information onmelancholy events, Ellen was a great believer in dreams, possessing asmany as ten 'dream books,' which she consulted frequently on the meaningof her dreams. Ellen believed also in fortune-telling by tea-leaves, andlucky stars, and the like. And many a time she had made evenMartha--who knew her little ways and generally laughed tolerantly ather--turn 'goose-flesh' at the terrible fate she would read out forMartha and herself from the tea-leaves left in their cups.
"Do you believe it's possible to _dream_ what is inside that room--Imean dream truly--if you set your mind on it just before going tosleep?" Isobel asked of Pamela, as she glanced round the bath-room.
Caroline, who was examining everything in the bath-room closely andminutely, 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:
"I don't know. I'm afraid I'm not an expert on dreams--I hardly everdream myself."
"Wouldn't it be fun," suggested Isobel, as they all made their waydownstairs again, "if each of us tried hard to dream what was inside theroom--and then tell each other what dreams we had had, in themorning--and when Miss Crabingway comes back we will see if any of usare right."
"Oh, I don't know," said Pamela. "Somehow I don't think we'd bettereven try to dream what is inside the room. Perhaps it isn't quite fairto--to--I don't know how to put it-- Anyway, I think it would be betterif we left the subject entirely alone, don't you?"
Again Caroline opened her mouth and was about to say something, whenIsobel burst in with,
"Oh, but Miss Crabingway didn't say we were not to _dream_ about it, didshe? ... That would be impossible to forbid.... But still, perhaps it'sbest not to meddle with the subject. It's not worth losing fifty poundsover, anyway."
Beryl, although she had accompanied the others over the house, had notspoken a word since they left the dining-room, but she had listened toall 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 ofher. Caroline appeared more at her ease than Beryl had expected her tobe; though Caroline seemed to others slow and awkward, she was not awareof this herself, and so was not made uneasy on that score. Caroline didnot know her own failings, while Beryl was keenly alive to _her_own--and suffered accordingly.
As the four girls bid each other good-night a few minutes later,Caroline found the opportunity she had been waiting for, and mentionedsomething that had been fidgeting her since her arrival.
"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 throughher spectacles. "I'm rather subject to chills--and mother told me to besure and see that my bedroom had been well aired."
Fortunately Martha was able to assure her on this point, and Carolinewent upstairs apparently content. But before she went to sleep shethoroughly fingered the sheets and pillow-cases to satisfy herself thatMartha was a strictly truthful person.
When, at length, every one had retired and all was quiet, a littlebreeze arose in the garden and scurried round the house, whisperingexcitedly among the ivy leaves. But though the breeze ruffled andagitated the cloak of ivy, it had no power to stir the old housebeneath, which stood, grim and unmoved, brooding in silence over thestrangers within its walls.