That same day, in the afternoon, a group of happy people were gathered on the lawn chatting together in Miss Crabingway's garden—for the guests she had invited were no others than Pamela's mother and Michael and Doris; Isobel's mater and brother Gerald, and Lady Prior and her two daughters; and Caroline's mother—a plump, placid little soul, remarkably like her daughter in appearance. Miss Crabingway had thought this little surprise would please the girls—and it would be nicer for them to travel home with their own people.
Miss Crabingway admitted to herself that she would have liked all the girls to stay a few days longer, so that she could get to know them better, but all arrangements had been made and she could not upset them at the last moment.
The only person, of course, who had no relatives to meet her at the garden party was Beryl. But to judge from her happy, smiling face as she helped to hand round the tea she did not regret this fact. Her gratitude to Miss Crabingway was deep and sincere, and she meant to do all in her power to live up to the best that was in her. She and Miss Crabingway had had a long and serious talk together in the early afternoon, which ended in mutual expectations of a happier future for both of them. Though Beryl had lost her fifty pounds, she had gained far more in Miss Crabingway's friendship; and, although she did not know this at present, Miss Crabingway had made up her mind to give Beryl a fairly substantial pocket-money allowance now that she was her properly adopted niece. Beryl was to continue her musical studies—that had already been arranged.
Freed from the shadow of Aunt Laura, and the bullying and the secret threats, Beryl felt a different girl—and looked it too. Her only tinge of sorrow was the parting with Pamela—but even that was to be only for a time. Later on Pamela was to come and stop with her for a holiday, and she and Miss Crabingway were to visit Pamela's home.
As for Pamela, she was in a real 'beamy' mood this afternoon at having mother and Michael and Doris with her again. She showed them all over the place, pointing out her favourite spots. She even found an opportunity of introducing them to Elizabeth Bagg.
"I'm so glad you've seen everything and everybody," she said. "Now you will be able to see things in your mind's eye when I talk about them."
During the afternoon Michael tried to get into conversation with Isobel's brother Gerald, who was about his age, but found it difficult work, as Gerald was far more interested in his own immaculate clothes, and smooth hair, his cigarette, and the various girls present, than he was in Michael or anything Michael had to say.
Isobel and her mater hung delightedly on Lady Prior's words, and as they sat in the shade of the trees at the end of the lawn, an invitation to come and stay at the Manor House sometime in the near future was given to Isobel, and accepted eagerly.
Caroline methodically piloted her mother round the house and garden, and presently left her talking to Mrs Heath while she went indoors at a signal from Pamela, who whispered, "Miss Crabingway wants us a minute."
In the drawing-room Pamela, Caroline, and Isobel found awaiting them Miss Crabingway and Mr Joseph Sigglesthorne (who had just arrived). With due solemnity the girls were each presented with a cheque for fifty pounds, and the news was broken to Mr Sigglesthorne that he was to go and have his photograph taken, at which he looked very crestfallen.
There was just one other little incident that took place before the afternoon came to a close—it had been crowded out of the morning's events.
The girls gave Miss Crabingway the small gifts they had made for her: Pamela, a sketch of Chequertrees; Caroline, a hand-embroidered tray-cloth; Beryl, a waltz which she had composed herself, and had copied out in a manuscript music-book. She offered it to Miss Crabingway very shyly and with much diffidence. "It's the only thing I could do myself," she said apologetically. Isobel presented her photographs, enlarged and handsomely framed; they were photographs of the other three girls in the garden. Miss Crabingway was immensely pleased and touched by the girls' thought for her. Something of their own work; she could not have wished for anything better, she said, and thanked them warmly.
To Martha and Ellen each of the girls gave a little gift, such as a pair of gloves, and handkerchiefs, and bottles of eau-de-Cologne, and in addition each gave a photograph of herself (having overheard Martha express a wish for the photographs).
"Just in case you forget what I look like and don't recognize me next time I knock at the front door," said Pamela laughingly to Martha.
"Oh, Miss Pamela, just as if I'd forget you," said Martha. "But you couldn't have thought of a better present, or one that would please me more, and I thank you and I shall value it greatly. What is nicer than a nice photograph, I always say."
And now dusk has fallen and all is silent in Miss Crabingway's garden. The laughter and voices have died away, and far away through the night rushes a train bearing Pamela, her mother, and Michael and Doris, homeward. Mr Heath is waiting at Marylebone Station to meet them, and Olive and John have been allowed to stay up an hour later than usual in order to welcome home their long-absent sister.
In another train Caroline and her mother journey back to the busy little provincial town where they live. While Isobel, seated beside her mater, with a cosy coat wrapped round her, whirls along the country lanes in the motor which brother Gerald is driving.
An old gentleman climbs into a crowded bus at Charing Cross; he has a remarkably high, bald forehead, which becomes visible when he removes his hat; he stands holding on to a strap in the bus, his thoughts far away. He is thinking of a little country village, and in the midst of all the bustle and life of London he feels suddenly lonely. The bus rattles on toward the Temple—and he thinks of his deserted, paper-strewn room in Fig Tree Court, and he is overcome by a great wave of pity for himself; he begins to feel exceedingly sorry for himself. Suddenly his expression changes to one of dismay and exasperation—he has remembered that he must visit a photographer to-morrow.
At the same moment, far away down at Barrowfield, there is a light in the drawing-room of Chequertrees, and some one is playing softly on the piano. Miss Crabingway sits on the couch by the fire, a book in her hands—but she is not reading. She is looking across at the girl who is playing the piano and her eyes are full of dreams.
The red blind in the dining-room, where supper is being laid for two, shines warmly out from among the rustling leaves that are whispering round the house—just as it did six months ago. But to-night the window of the little white cottage opposite is dark, and there is no one watching the red blind.
* * * * * * * *
Uniform with this Volume
ROCK BOTTOM
By QUEENIE SCOTT-HOPPER. Illustrated in Colour by A. A. NASH.
ANGEL UNAWARES
By QUEENIE SCOTT-HOPPER. Illustrated in Colour and Half-tone by PERCY TARRANT.
THE MYSTERY OF BARWOOD HALL
By OLIVIA FOWELL. Illustrated in Colour by SAVILE LUMLEY.
WINIFRED AVON
By MABEL MARLOWE. Illustrated in Colour by SAVILE LUMLEY.
THE TAMING OF TAMZIN
By ESMÈ STUART. Illustrated in Colour by HELEN JACOBS.
A COTTAGE ROSE
By MABEL QUILLER-COUCH. Illustrated in Colour by PERCY TARRANT.
LITTLE MOTHER
By RUTH MACARTHUR. Illustrated in Colour and Half-tone.