Shaking Down
If Katrine and Gwethyn had taken a dislike to the "Toadstool", as they
nicknamed Githa Hamilton, that elfish damsel seemed ready to return the
sentiment with interest. She divined their weak points with horrible
intuition, and her sharp little tongue was always armed with caustic
remarks. She would stand watching them like a malign imp when they
played tennis, sneering if they made bad strokes, and rejoicing over
their opponents' scores with ostentatious triumph. At Katrine's airs
of dignity she scoffed openly, and she would call in question Gwethyn's
really quite harmless little exaggerations with ruthless punctiliousness.
The new-comers tried to preserve an airy calm, and treat this offensive
junior as beneath their notice; but she was a determined enemy, returning
constantly to the assault, and the skirmishes continued.
A complete contrast to Githa's spirit of opposition was the behaviour of
Laura Browne. As Coralie had predicted, she took up the new girls hotly.
She walked with them or sat next to them on every possible occasion,
asked for their autographs, obtained snapshots of them with her Brownie
camera, and gushed over their home photos and private possessions.
"It's so nice to have someone at the school with whom I really feel I
can become friends," she assured Gwethyn. "The moment I saw you both, I
fell in love with you. I believe strongly in first impressions--don't
you? Something seems to tell me there's to be a link between our lives.
How romantic to have a brother at the front! I think his portrait in
uniform is simply perfect. I shall ask you to lend it to me sometimes,
when you can spare it. It does one good to look at a hero like that. I
wish my brothers were old enough to join. They're at the mischievous age
at present. I envy you your luck."
And Laura sighed dramatically. Katrine, mindful of Coralie's hint,
received these advances with caution, but Gwethyn, who was not a very
discriminating little person, felt rather flattered. After all, it is
highly pleasant to be openly admired, your friendship courted, your
wishes consulted, and your opinions treated with deference. In the first
flush of her enthusiasm she readily drew a sketch in Laura's album,
embroidered a handkerchief for her, and proffered peppermint creams as
long as the box lasted. She submitted peaceably to lend penknife,
scissors, pencils, or any other unconsidered trifles, and when she was
obliged to ask for them back, her new friend was so ready with apologies
for their non-return that she felt almost ashamed of having mentioned
the matter.
Between Githa's evident dislike and Laura's fawning sycophancy was a
wide gap. These two had openly declared themselves "for" or "against";
the solid block of the school stood aloof. During their first week, at
least, the new girls must be on approval before they settled into the
places which they would eventually occupy. Their sayings and doings were
closely noted, but public opinion reserved itself. The monitresses were
kind, but slightly cool. They did not altogether like Katrine's
attitude. She had given them to understand that she had come to
Aireyholme as an art student, and not as a pupil, and they resented the
assumption of superiority implied.
"We're all art students here," Diana Bennett had replied stiffly.
"But you're not taking special private lessons from Miss Aubrey?" asked
Katrine, feeling that she scored by this point.
"Viola and Dorrie and I are going in for the matric., so we haven't much
time for painting. It's a jolly grind getting up all our subjects, I can
tell you!"
In the privacy of their own study, the three monitresses discussed the
matter at some length.
"I rather like them both," said Dorrie. "Katrine's quite an interesting
sort of girl, only she has at present far too high an idea of her own
importance."
"She's inclined to be a little patronizing," commented Viola. "Of course
that won't do. I'm Captain here, and she'll have quite to realize that.
We can't let a girl come into the school at seventeen and begin to boss
the whole show."
"Rather not! There ought to be a rule to admit no one over fifteen."
"Thirteen would be better."
"Well, at any rate when they're juniors, and have time to get used to
Aireyholme ways. I've been here six years, and if anyone knows the
school traditions, I ought to. No, Miss Katrine Marsden mustn't be
allowed to give herself airs. That I've quite made up my mind about."
"What do you think of Gwethyn?"
"She's a harum-scarum, but I like her the better of the two."
"She's inseparables with Laura Browne."
"Well, you know Laura! She goes for every new girl, and toadies till
she's got all she can, or grows tired of it. Gwethyn will find her out
in course of time, I suppose."
"The real gist of the matter," said Dorrie, wrinkling her brows
anxiously, "is whether I'm to put them in the tennis list. They play
uncommonly well."
"Oh, it wouldn't be fair to let new girls represent the school!"
"You think so? On the other hand, the school must win by hook or by
crook."
"Well, I don't think it would do to make either of them a champion,
putting them above the heads of those who have been here for years."
"It's a difficult question, certainly."
"Difficult? Not at all; I think it's conclusive!" snapped Viola rather
sharply. "Those who are trained in Aireyholme methods are best fitted to
represent Aireyholme. There can't be two opinions about it."
There was certainly some occasion for the rather jealous attitude which
the monitresses were inclined to adopt towards Katrine. By the
arrangement which her mother had made with Mrs. Franklin, she was
really more in the position of the old-fashioned "parlour boarder" than
of an ordinary pupil. She had been placed in the Sixth Form, but took
less than half the classes, the rest of her time being devoted to art
lessons. While others were drudging away at Latin translation, or
racking their brains over mathematical problems, she was seated in the
studio, blissfully painting flowers; or, greater luck still, sallying
forth with paint-box and easel to sketch from nature. As the studio was
the favourite haunt of most of the seniors, these special privileges
were the envy of the school. Nan Bethell and Gladwin Riley, in
particular, hitherto the Aireyholme art stars, felt their noses much put
out of joint, and were injured that their mothers had not made a like
arrangement on their behalf. They went so far as to petition Mrs.
Franklin for a similar exemption from certain lessons in favour of
painting. But the Principal was adamant; the Sixth was her own
particular form, she was jealous of its reputation, and by no means
disposed to excuse members, whom she had been coaching for months, the
credit which they ought to gain for the school in the examination lists.
Though art was a pet hobby at Aireyholme, it must not be allowed to
usurp the chief place, to the detriment of Mrs. Franklin's own subjects.
In the meantime Katrine, quite unaware of these difficulties, wore her
picturesque painting apron for several hours daily, and revelled both in
her work and in the companionship of her new teacher. Miss Aubrey was
the greatest possible contrast to her sister, Mrs. Franklin. Instead of
being tall, imposing, and masterful, she was small, slight, and gentle
in manner. "A ducky little thing", most of the girls called her, and
Katrine endorsed the general opinion. Miss Aubrey certainly would not
have made a good head of the establishment; she was absent-minded,
dreamy, and made no attempt to uphold discipline; but in her own
department she was delightful. The pupils talked with impunity in her
classes, but they nevertheless worked with an enthusiasm that many a
stricter teacher might have failed to inspire. There was an artistic
atmosphere about Miss Aubrey; she always seemed slightly in the clouds,
as if she were busier observing the general picturesque effect of life
than its particular details. In appearance she was pleasing, with soft
grey eyes and smooth brown hair. It was the fashion at the school to
call her pretty. The girls set her down as many years younger than Mrs.
Franklin. The studio was, of course, her special domain at Aireyholme;
she worked much there herself, and quite a collection of her pictures
adorned the walls. The crisp, bold style of painting aroused Katrine's
admiration, and made her long to try her skill at landscape-sketching.
Miss Aubrey had kept her at a study of flowers until she could judge her
capabilities; but at the end of the first week the mistress declared her
ready for more advanced work.
"I am going into the village this morning to finish a picture of my
own," she announced. "You and your sister may come with me, and I will
start you both at a pretty little subject."
Gwethyn, whose time-table had been left to the entire discretion of
Mrs. Franklin, was highly elated to find that she was to share some of
Katrine's art privileges. She had never expected such luck, and rejoiced
accordingly. The fact was that Miss Aubrey wished to continue her own
sketch, and to settle Katrine at an easier subject a hundred yards
farther down the street. She thought it might be unpleasant for the girl
to sit alone, and that the sisters would be company for each other. She
would be near enough to keep an eye on them, and to come and correct
their drawings from time to time. Much encumbered, therefore, with
camp-stools, easels, boards, paint-boxes, and other impedimenta, but
feeling almost equal to full-blown artists, the Marsdens, to the wild
envy of their less fortunate school-fellows, sallied forth with Miss
Aubrey down to the village. Their teacher had chosen a very picturesque
little bit for their first attempt--a charming black-and-white cottage,
with an uneven red-tiled roof and an irregular, tumble-down chimney. She
superintended them while they opened their camp-stools and fixed their
easels, then showed them where the principal lines in their sketches
ought to be placed.
"You mustn't mind if people come and stare at you a little," she
remarked cheerfully. "It's what all artists have to put up with. You'll
get used to it. Now I'm going to my own subject. I shall come back very
soon to see how you're getting on."
With great satisfaction the girls began blocking in their cottage,
feeling almost like professional artists as they marked roof, angles,
and points of perspective with the aid of a plumb-line.
"What a lovely little village it is!" exulted Katrine. "And so
delightfully peaceful and quiet. There's nobody about."
"Yes, it's heavenly! One couldn't sit out sketching in the street at
home," agreed Gwethyn enthusiastically.
Alas! their bliss was shortlived. They had scarcely been five minutes at
work when they were espied by half a dozen children, who ran up promptly
and joyfully to stare at their proceedings. The group of spectators
seemed to consider them an attraction, for they rushed off to spread the
gleeful news among their fellows, with the result that in a few moments
half the youth of the neighbourhood were swarming round Katrine and
Gwethyn like flies round a honey-pot. Evidently the inhabitants of the
village regarded artists as a free show; not only did the small fry
flock round the girls' easels, but a certain proportion of grown-ups,
who apparently had nothing better to do, strolled up and made an outside
ring to the increasing and interested audience.
"Do they imagine we're the vanguard of a circus, or that it's an
ingenious form of advertisement?" whispered Gwethyn. "I believe they
expect me to write 'Sanger's Menagerie is Coming' in big letters on my
drawing-board, or perhaps 'Buy Purple Pills'!"
"I should feel more inclined to write 'Don't come within ten yards!'"
groaned Katrine. "I wish they'd go away! They make me so nervous. It's
horrible to feel your every stroke is being watched. I've put in my
chimney quite crooked. Are they troubling Miss Aubrey, I wonder?"
Gwethyn stood up to command a full view of the street. Yes, Miss Aubrey
was also surrounded by a small crowd, but she took no notice of the
spectators, and was painting away as if oblivious of their presence.
"She doesn't seem to mind," commented Gwethyn. "I wish I'd her nerve."
"They seem to find us as attractive as a dancing bear," groaned Katrine.
"That fat old man in the blue flannel shirt is gazing at us with the
most insinuating smile. Don't look at him. Oh, why did you? You've
encouraged him so much, he's coming to speak to us."
The wearer of the blue shirt appeared to think he was doing a kind
action in patronizing the strangers; his smile broadened, he forced his
way forward among the pushing children, and opened the conversation with
a preliminary cough.
"Be you a-drawin' that old house across there?" he began
consequentially. "Why, it be full o' cracks and stains, and 'ave wanted
pullin' down these ten year or more!"
"It's beautiful!" replied Katrine briefly.
"Beautiful! With the tiles all cracked and the wall bulgin'? Now if you
was wantin' a house to draw, you should 'a done mine. It's a new red
brick, with bow windows and a slated roof, and there's a row o' nice
tidy iron railings round the garden, too. You must come and take a look
at it."
"We like the old cottages better, thank you," said Gwethyn, as politely
as she could. "Would you please mind moving a little to the left? You're
standing just exactly in my light."
"He's a picturesque figure," whispered Katrine, as their new
acquaintance heaved himself heavily from the kerb-stone; then she added
aloud: "I wonder if you'd mind standing still a minute or two, and
letting me put you into my picture? Yes, just there, please."
"You wants to take I?" he guffawed. "Well, I never did! Best let me go
home and tidy up a bit first."
"No, no! I like you as you are. Don't move! Only keep still for three
minutes," implored Katrine, sketching with frantic haste.
"I don't know what my missis would say at I being took in my corduroys,"
remonstrated the model, who appeared half bashful and half flattered at
the honour thrust upon him. "I'd change to my Sunday clothes if ye'd
wait a bit, missie! Well, it be queer taste, for sure! I'd 'a thought a
suit o' broadcloth would 'a looked a sight better in a picture."
"See the lady! She's a-puttin' in Abel Barnes!" gasped the children,
crowding yet nearer, and almost upsetting the pair of easels in their
excitement. "There's his head! There be his arm! Oh, and his legs too!
It be just like him--so it be!"
"Keep back and let the ladies alone!" commanded Abel in a stentorian
voice. "Where are your manners got to? If you've finished, missie,
you'll maybe not object to my takin' a look. Well, for sure, there I be
to the life!"
"Wherever that picture goes in all the world, Abel Barnes will go with
it!" piped a small awestruck voice in the background.
"Yes, she'll take me away with her," replied Abel, in a tone that
implied some gratification--perhaps a touch of vanity lingered under
the blue flannel shirt. "If I'd but a-been in my Sunday clothes!" he
continued regretfully. "Still, you've only to say the word, and I'll put
'em on for you any day you've a mind to take I again, and you could draw
the missis too, and the house, if you like. I were goin' to give the
railings a fresh coat o' paint anyways, so I may as well do it afore you
begins."
Finding that Katrine would not commit herself to any rash promises, he
finally strolled away, possibly to buy a tin of paint, or to review his
Sunday garments in anticipation of the hoped-for portrait. The children,
filled with envy at his distinction, were all eager to volunteer as
models, and began posing in the road in various stiff and photographic
attitudes.
"Put in I! Put in I!" implored each and all.
"I shan't put in anybody if you don't behave yourselves," replied
Katrine severely. "How can I see anything when you're standing exactly
in front of me? Go away at once, and leave us quiet!"
To remove themselves from the vicinity of the interesting strangers was,
however, not at all in the children's calculations. They only backed,
and formed a close ring again round the exasperated girls, breathing
heavily, and keeping up a chorus of whispered comments. Katrine and
Gwethyn sighed ruefully, but judged it better to follow Miss Aubrey's
example and take no notice, hoping that their tormentors might presently
tire, and run off to play marbles or hop-scotch. The cottage proved by
no means an easy subject to sketch; it needed very careful spacing and
drawing before they could secure a correct outline. It would have been
hard enough if they had been alone and undisturbed, but to be obliged to
work in full view of a frank and critical audience was particularly
trying. Every time they rubbed anything out, a small voice would cry:
"Missed again! She can't do it!"
"I never realized before how often I used my india-rubber," murmured
poor Gwethyn. "They seem to think I'm making a series of very bad
shots."
"I wonder if I dare begin my sky, or if I ought to show the drawing to
Miss Aubrey first," said Katrine. "I believe I shall venture. How I wish
a motor-car would come along and scatter these wretched infants, or that
their mothers would call them in for a meal!"
There was no such luck. The sight of the mixing of cobalt blue and
Naples yellow on Katrine's palette only caused the children to press yet
closer.
"Oh, look! This lady be doing it in colours!" they shouted. "She be
cleverer than the other lady."
"Katrine, we must get rid of them!" exclaimed the outraged Gwethyn;
then, turning to the crowd of shock heads behind, she inquired
frowningly: "How is it you're not in school?"
"It's a holiday to-day!" came in prompt chorus.
"There's the Board of Guardians' meeting at the schoolhouse," explained
an urchin, poking a chubby face in such close proximity to Katrine's
paint-box that in self-defence she gave him a dab of blue on his
freckled nose.
"It be luck for us when they have their meetings," volunteered another
gleefully.
"But not for us," groaned Gwethyn. "Katrine, I wonder if the Church
Catechism would rout them. I declare I'll try! It's my last weapon!"
Vain hope, alas! If Gwethyn had expected to thin the throng by acting
catechist, she was much mistaken. The children had been well grounded at
Sunday school, and so far from quailing at the questions were anxious to
air their knowledge, and show off before visitors.
"Ask I! I can say it all from 'N. or M.' to 'charity with all men'!"
piped a too willing voice. "Be you a-going to give I sweets for saying
it?" inquired another, with an eye to business.
"Katrine, I shall have to beat a retreat," murmured Gwethyn. "It's
impossible to paint a stroke with this sticky little crew buzzing round
like flies. I don't like being a public character. I've had enough
notoriety this morning to last for the rest of my life. Now then, you
young rascal, if you lay a finger on that paint-box I shall call on the
schoolmaster and ask him to spank you!"
At this juncture, much to the girls' relief, Miss Aubrey came to
criticize their sketches. She pointed out the mistakes in their
drawings, and waited while they corrected them.
"It's no use beginning the painting to-day," she remarked in a low tone.
"The children are too great a nuisance. I did not know about the Board
of Guardians' meeting, or I would not have brought you this morning. We
must come another time, when these small folk are safely in school, and
we can work undisturbed. I'm afraid you must have found them very
troublesome."
"The ten plagues of Egypt weren't in it!" replied Gwethyn, joyfully
closing her paint-box, and beginning to pack up her traps. "You had a
crowd, too."
"Oh! I'm more accustomed to it, though I admit I'd rather dispense with
an audience. If you want to be an artist, you have to learn to put up
with this kind of thing. Never mind! I promise our next subject shall be
in an absolutely retired spot, where no one can find us out."