“What can Miss Smith want?” Benny wondered.
“Come back tomorrow morning when the sun is just right. About ten o’clock. Can you do that? Will you? And wear the same clothes.”
Violet was too surprised to speak, so Benny said, “Yes, she can.”
Miss Smith seemed better now, and Violet put the cat down. “I’ll see you tomorrow at ten,” she said. “Good-bye.”
The minute Violet and Benny joined Jessie and Henry they began to tell them all that had happened.
“Miss Smith said I was to come when the light was right,” Violet said. “I can’t guess what she means.”
Benny had a fine idea. “I think Miss Smith wants to paint a picture of Violet with the cat in her arms.”
They all agreed. Jessie said, “Violet was certainly a picture with all that gray and violet color.”
“What a story we’ll have for Mr. Lee,” Benny said. “I’m sure he thought we’d never get inside the Tower House.”
In all the excitement, Benny and Violet forgot about the cat’s name. After all, a great deal had happened in a short time.
The next morning Mr. Lee was surprised at all the news. He thought exactly as the Aldens did. When they told him of Miss Smith’s request, he agreed that probably Violet was going to sit for her picture with the cat in her arms. “Otherwise,” remarked Mr. Lee, “she wouldn’t have told Violet what color to wear.”
At exactly ten o’clock Henry stopped the blue car in front of the Tower House and Violet got out. Miss Smith opened the door before she had time to knock.
“Go in, please,” Miss Smith said. She pushed back the black curtain.
Violet found herself in an artist’s studio. Sunshine came in through the large back window, and there was light everywhere. And sure enough, there was another person! She came out of the shadows.
She was a tiny little woman, dressed in a smock, all covered with paint. She looked sharply at Violet.
“Sit here,” she said suddenly. “Good of you to come. Take up Ali Baba.”
Now Violet never picked up a cat. She always waited for the cat to come to her. She explained this now as she saw the cat lying asleep on a silk cushion. She did not wait long. Ali stretched himself and jumped lightly into her lap.
“A marvel,” said the artist. She wasted no time but began to draw very quickly on the paper on the easel.
“You don’t have to sit still,” she said gruffly. “Don’t look at Ali. Look at me.”
Violet obeyed. The cat settled down in her arms exactly as he had done the day before. He felt safe.
“How will you get home, child?” asked the little woman.
“Oh, my brother Henry is waiting with the car. They are all waiting.”
“Who is ‘all’?”
“Well, my sister Jessie, Henry, my big brother, and Benny, my younger brother. There are four of us.”
“Four of you?” said the little woman. “Yes, that’s right. A loving family, eh?”
“Oh, yes.”
“I never saw one myself,” said the artist.
“You should meet mine,” Violet exclaimed. How sad it must be, Violet thought, to live all one’s life and never know a loving family.
Ali had gone to sleep. His head was lying sideways, and he had stopped purring.
Suddenly Violet asked, “Do you have other cats?”
“Oh, yes. I have ten cats. I like cats better than people, you see. I try not to have anything to do with people.”
Violet thought about that. Here was someone who did not want to make friends. If Ali had not escaped from the house, Violet would never have been invited to come in.
Without even having begun to paint, the artist said, “That’s all. Come tomorrow, child.” And she handed Violet a note that said, “Please be ready for me at 10. Thank you.”
“I will be,” Violet said. She started to put Ali Baba back on the cushion, talking to him all the time. He growled softly. He was very comfortable and did not want to be moved.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to hold you,” Violet promised. She did not even try to look at the picture. She knew it was not done and she would have to wait.
The artist called, “Mary, please let this little girl out. We are finished for today.” And to Violet she said with great charm, “Thank you, my dear, for coming.”
“Just a minute, Ruth,” Violet heard Miss Smith answer. And in a moment she appeared and led Violet to the door.
“You’ve made Miss Lane and me happy,” Miss Smith said quickly. Her cheeks were pink as she spoke, and suddenly Violet knew that this was a very shy person. How wrong everyone in Beachwood was about Miss Mary Smith!
CHAPTER 8
An Invitation
Violet was hardly in the car when the questions began.
“What happened in there?” Benny asked.
“You’re all right?” Jessie wanted to know.
“Miss Smith didn’t scare you today, did she?” asked Henry.
Violet laughed. “It was all a surprise,” she said. “It’s hard to know where to begin.”
“Begin at the beginning,” said Benny.
“First,” Violet said, “we were wrong about Miss Smith. So is everyone else, too. She isn’t an artist at all.”
“But—” Benny said.
“Miss Lane, Miss Ruth Lane, is the artist,” Violet explained. “She’s a tiny little woman. That big window at the back of the Tower House is the room where she works.”
Henry said, “Wait a minute. You said Ruth Lane. We know the house was owned by the Lane family. But no one ever said anything about a Ruth Lane.”
Benny said, “Ruth Lane—R.L. There we are! Those are the initials on the locket. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Jessie said, “So there are two women who live in the Tower House.”
“And ten cats,” Violet added. “It’s funny, you don’t notice the way the house smells after you’ve been inside for a little bit.”
The talking stopped for a moment. Then Benny said, “So it looks as if Miss Smith keeps house for Miss Lane.”
“Yes,” Violet agreed. “Miss Lane says she doesn’t like people. She just likes cats. But she was very nice to me. Maybe she surprised herself and liked having company.”
“She probably thinks you are all right because you saved her cat,” Benny said.
“Did Miss Lane paint your picture?” asked Henry.
Violet shook her head. “No, she just made a pencil drawing while I held Ali. She wants me to come back tomorrow at the same time. She gave me this little note. I guess she doesn’t want me to forget.”
“Let’s see,” Benny said. He unfolded the paper Violet gave him and read, “‘Please be ready for me at 10. Thank you.’”
Suddenly Benny began to feel in all of his pockets until at last he pulled out another paper. He unfolded it and put it beside Miss Lane’s note.
“Look at that!” he said. “I think I understand something now.”
All the Aldens looked at the two notes.
“The same kind of paper!” Violet said.
“And the same writing, I’m almost sure,” Henry said, beginning to smile. “See the ‘thank you’?”
Benny said, “That’s what I think. But what about that funny sentence, ‘All thanks you’? Miss Lane wouldn’t write that, would she, Violet?”
Then Violet made a clever guess. “Let me see those notes,” she said. “Look, Benny, the word isn’t all. It’s the name Ali. The letter i looks like the letter l.”
Benny said, “Then the note says ‘Ali thanks you. We all thank you.’ And Ali Baba is Miss Lane’s favorite cat, so she must have written the note and put it by our trailer. Well, that’s another mystery solved.”
“Not quite,” Henry said. “That thank-you note was written after the grass fire in the Tower House yard. But Miss Lane and Miss Smith didn’t know who we were or where we were living. How did the note get delivered?”
Violet said, “I don’t know. But th
e note fits with the ladies being so shy. I really never met anyone as shy as Miss Lane and Miss Smith.”
“I wish Miss Lane wanted to paint my picture,” Benny said. “Maybe I could find out how she knew us and where we lived at the beach.”
Just before sunset that evening, Mr. Lee walked down the beach with Richard. He did not have his metal-finder with him. He was interested in hearing about Violet’s visit.
When he had heard all the news, he said, “There are famous paintings of cats, and the artist’s name is Ruth Lane. There are a lot of people who buy and collect those paintings. In fact I’ve seen cat portraits by Ruth Lane in New York shops. But I just happen to like dogs better than cats.”
Mr. Lee patted Richard, and the big dog wagged his tail.
The Aldens walked with Mr. Lee along the beach until he was nearly home.
“I don’t think I’ll be taking any midnight walks,” Mr. Lee said as they told him goodnight. “I mean I feel I’ll sleep well tonight,” he added quickly.
As the Aldens walked back toward the trailer, Benny said, “I wonder what Mr. Lee meant about not taking a midnight walk. That remark just slipped out. He seemed sorry right after he said it.”
Henry laughed at Benny and said, “There you go again. Still looking for mysteries.”
But Benny was stubborn. “Well, there are still a few mysteries. One big one is why Miss Smith doesn’t want that locket. It just has to have something to do with her or Miss Lane.”
Jessie said, “Tomorrow’s another day. Maybe we’ll find the answer then. I think it’s time for bed.”
On her second visit to Miss Lane, Violet knew what to expect. She knew that the little artist had a sharp tongue, and she didn’t mind too much. Violet felt sorry for the little lady who had shut herself off from people.
As Violet sat down in the chair, Miss Lane said, “Never mind holding the cat. I can paint him in any time. I’ve drawn your arms.”
Then Violet noticed that Miss Lane was painting today, not drawing. She worked quickly, almost as if she were painting a house, Violet thought.
“You paint fast,” Violet remarked.
“I have to,” answered the artist. “This paint dries in twenty minutes. It’s not oil. It’s acrylic paint. Look right at me. Never mind smiling.”
This amused Violet. She couldn’t help smiling a little. She knew Miss Lane was painting her eyes.
Suddenly without any warning, Miss Lane said, “Good. That’s enough. Come day after tomorrow.”
Violet got up and started to go out. Miss Lane said, “Look at the picture if you want to.”
“Oh, may I?” asked Violet, surprised. She took one look at the picture. “That looks exactly like me!” she said.
“Yes, it does. Today was easy. Everything came right, and the colors are just right.” Miss Lane looked very much pleased.
Violet said, “It must be wonderful to paint so well. You must be very happy.”
Miss Lane shrugged but said nothing.
Violet asked, “Will you sell this?”
“Probably.”
“I hope people won’t know it is my picture,” Violet exclaimed. “You aren’t going to put my name on it, are you?”
“No,” Miss Lane said gruffly. “The name of the picture is ‘Girl with Cat.’”
“Oh, thank you,” Violet said.
“I’ll do more than that,” Miss Lane went on. “I’ll change the mouth so the picture doesn’t look like you. I’ve never changed a picture before for anybody.”
“Oh, that’s very kind of you!” Violet burst out. “I know an artist doesn’t like to change his picture.”
Miss Lane had certainly never been called kind before in her life. But this time she did feel kind—and it was odd, she liked it.
Violet said, “Please don’t change the picture. My grandfather might want to buy it. I do wish you’d paint Benny. But nobody could paint him. He’s never still a minute.”
“I expect he can look straight at me for one minute and then later for another minute?”
“Oh, yes. He’d try. He might not like the idea of sitting still to have his picture painted, but he would do it for Grandfather.”
“Who is this grandfather?” Miss Lane asked.
“Grandfather? Well, we live with him. Our parents died years ago. He is James Henry Alden, and my brother Henry is Henry James Alden. He is the best grandfather anyone ever had.”
“You do sound like a very happy family,” Miss Lane said, and Violet thought her voice had a sad sound. The sharpness that had been there earlier was gone.
Violet said slowly, “I have an idea I hope you will like. Here at the beach we have picnics all the time. We like to eat outdoors. Couldn’t you and Miss Smith take the noon hour and come to have lunch with us? It is really not very far. I’d love to have you know Henry and Jessie and Benny.”
Miss Lane shook her head. “No, I don’t think we’d better.”
“Oh, dear!” Violet said. “We’d all like it so much. I’ll tell you how to make it easier. Henry will come for you about noon, and you won’t have to do a thing but get in the car.”
Something in Violet’s voice and in her smile must have touched Miss Lane. She said, “It is very kind of you. Yes, we can come after all. What time did you say?”
“Well, I said noon, but let’s call it quarter of twelve. By that time Benny will be shouting for lunch. He is always hungry. I’ll tell Jessie.”
“Don’t you have to ask her?”
“Oh, no. Jessie is the housekeeper. She expects things like this—company for lunch.”
Miss Lane called Miss Smith and said, “Mary, we are going out for lunch today.”
Miss Smith looked very surprised.
Violet saw her family waiting in the blue car. She said, “Oh, do please come and meet my family.”
The two women went with Violet to the door. In an instant both Benny and Henry were out of the car. Violet introduced everyone, and the ladies said “How do you do” to each one and nodded stiffly.
The Aldens tried not to look too surprised to see the two women no one in Beachwood knew.
When the blue car was well on its way, Violet said, “Jessie, I’ve asked Miss Lane and Miss Smith to come for a picnic lunch—today.”
“And are they really coming?” asked Benny.
“Yes, they are!” Violet answered.
Henry laughed and said, “Violet, sometimes you can really surprise us.”
“It wasn’t so hard,” Violet said. “I think no one has ever tried to ask the ladies before. People have thought they were unfriendly. They’re really just shy.”
“And independent, too,” Jessie said. “They have thought they could get along without people.”
Benny said, “Have you ever noticed that cats are like that, too? They are always independent and like to be free. They don’t make the kind of pets dogs do.”
“Perhaps that’s why the Tower House is a home for ten cats,” Henry said. “But I’d still like to know if Miss Lane and Miss Smith left us that note.”
CHAPTER 9
Answers at Last
Jessie said, “For this picnic party I’m going to make sandwiches. I don’t want to take time to make a fire on the beach and cook hamburgers. I’ll make ham sandwiches and tuna and—”
“And peanut butter,” finished Benny.
“Right. And we’ll have quarts of pink lemonade and cookies—everyone likes that.”
Violet said slowly, “The ladies may like coffee, the way Grandfather does.”
“Then I’ll make some hot coffee.”
“We are lucky,” said Henry. “We have had pleasant weather almost every day. Today is just right for a picnic.”
Just at quarter of twelve, Henry’s blue car stopped in front of the Tower House. At the same moment the door of the house opened and Miss Lane came out. Miss Smith followed.
Violet and Benny had come with Henry. “We left Jessie at the beach,” Benny said, jumping out o
f the car. “She’s the housekeeper. Miss Lane, you climb in beside Henry, and Miss Smith will sit in the back with Violet and me.”
Miss Lane said, “We could have walked and saved you all this trouble.”
“Oh, but it’s much more fun to ride,” said Benny. “You don’t get so much sand in your shoes, either.”
“What if people see us going for a ride this way?” Miss Smith asked. “What will they think?”
Miss Lane said, “Don’t be silly, Mary. Let them think what they like. We don’t have to speak to anyone else.”
Violet thought suddenly, “This is a big step for these ladies. And it certainly would be a surprise if the people in Beachwood knew. Maybe little boys would stop talking about witches living in the Tower House.”
Down the short back road they went. Henry stopped the car right behind the trailer house.
“Come in,” called Jessie. “We want you to see the house.”
Violet put her hand lightly on Miss Lane’s arm. “This way,” she said.
The two women had never seen a mobile home from the inside. Miss Smith liked the tiny kitchen with a place for everything. Miss Lane liked the living room which changed into a bedroom at night.
“You see, it’s quite roomy,” Jessie said.
So, very slowly, the Aldens got their company outdoors onto the sand. The water was very blue and beautiful, and there were now two chairs and a table and a beach umbrella. There was even a little breeze off the water, and it was very comfortable.
Benny threw himself on the sand and said, “Let’s eat, Jessie.”
“Right, Ben. I was just going to ask you to help bring out the things. You get right up. Take a plate of sandwiches in each hand, Benny, and then come back.”
Benny said, “Do I have to take one in each hand, Jessie? Suppose I carry one on my head.”
“Oh, Benny, just don’t drop them,” Jessie answered.
Benny said, “You see, ladies, there is a toothpick and a little sign telling you what kind of sandwiches we have today. This one says Ham, and this says Tuna, and of course mine says Peanut Butter and Jelly.”
Benny’s nonsense was good for the two visitors. They had to laugh, and when they saw the sandwiches, they forgot to feel stiff and shy.