CHAPTER I
Aldred's Sketch
"Two pencils, an india-rubber, a penknife, camp stool, easel, paint-box,a tube of Chinese white, a piece of sponge, paint rag, and water tin,"said Aldred Laurence, checking each item off on her fingers. "Let mesee! Can I possibly want anything else? It's so extremely aggravating toget to a place and find you've left at home what you most particularlyneed. My block, of course! How could I be so stupid as to forget it?It's no good taking pencils and paints if I've nothing to draw upon!"
"Hello, Aldred! What a spread!" exclaimed Keith, rousing himself fromthe luxuries of a comfortable chair and an absorbing book to notice thathis sister had put on her hat, that her gloves lay on a chair, and thatshe was already beginning to pack some of the articles in questioninside a home-made portfolio of dark-green American cloth. "The tablelooks like an art repository!" he continued. "Have you suddenly turnedinto a Rubens, or a Raphael? Where are you going with all those traps?"
Aldred paused to count her paint brushes, fitted the spare tube ofChinese white into a vacant corner of her paint-box, and slipped thepenknife into her pocket.
"I want to make a sketch of old Mrs. Barker's cottage," she replied."The clematis is out over the porch, and it looks lovely. I heard Mr.Bowden say yesterday that it was a splendid subject. Don't you remember,he made a picture of it last year?"
"So he did, and a jolly good one too. Yours won't be anything like up tothat, Sis!"
"I dare say not, but you needn't discourage me from trying, at anyrate."
"Oh, I'm not discouraging you. Go by all means, and good luck to yourefforts! You can show me the masterpiece when you come back;" and theboy, flinging his legs over one arm of the chair, settled himself in aneven more inelegant and reposeful attitude than before, and plungedagain into the fascinating adventures of Captain Kettle.
That, however, did not at all content his sister.
"I thought you were coming with me," she said reproachfully. "I wascounting upon you to hold my water tin while I painted."
Keith detached his mind from tropical Africa with an effort.
"Then you counted without your host, my dear girl!" he responded. "I'mextremely comfortable here, and I assure you I haven't the smallestintention of pounding half a mile down the dusty road, on a bakingafternoon, to look at a picturesque cottage and act water-carrier when Iget there!"
"The tin upsets when I hold it on my paint-box," said Aldred, in arather aggrieved voice, "and if I put it on the ground I have to stoopevery time I want to dip my brush."
"Then make a hole in each side, tie a piece of string across, and hangit on the peg of your easel. I'll fix it up for you in half a second, ifyou'll find me the hammer and a nail. Girls have no invention! Thething's as simple as possible. I wonder you couldn't think of it foryourself. Where's a piece of string? Now, isn't this A1? Put it insideyour case. There! Off you go!"
Aldred could not but acknowledge the improvement in her painting tin,but she seemed, nevertheless, in no hurry to start. She re-arranged herpaints, took off her hat and put it on again, and loitered about in somarked a manner that her brother could not fail to notice herhesitation.
"What's the matter now?" he enquired.
"You might come with me, Keith!"
"Oh, bother!"
"You know quite well I can't go alone."
"Why not?"
"Because Father said I mustn't sit sketching by myself."
"That's a horse of another colour. In that case, why did Aunt Bertha letyou get ready?"
"She didn't. She's out, so I couldn't ask her."
"Taking French leave?" chuckled Keith.
"I thought it would be all right if you went too."
Keith groaned in reply.
"We need only walk for five minutes along the road, and then turn intothe path through the wood," suggested Aldred. "There's a field of cutcorn in front of the cottage; you could sit on the corn and read if youlike."
"Not half so cool as here."
"Oh, Keith, you might be nice when it's holidays!" pleaded Aldred. "It'sthe only time I ever have anybody to go about with. I'm sure I do heapsof things for you; I was playing cricket with you all morning, wasn'tI?"
"Yes, and a precious butterfingers you were, too. There, then, youneedn't look so blue! I'll go, but on the one condition that you let meread in peace and quiet, and don't bother."
"I won't say a single word, if you don't want to talk. I'll beabsolutely dumb and mum!"
"Well, I hardly believe you'll be able to hold your tongue to thatextent. I'll allow you an occasional remark, but you mustn't keep up acontinual flow of conversation. Where's my straw hat?--it's too hot fora cap. I think I'm an absolute saint to turn out on such a blazingafternoon!"
Having gained her point, Aldred ran readily enough to fetch herbrother's hat, and set off with him down the drive in a state of beamingsatisfaction.
Dingfield, the place where they lived, though only an hour's distancefrom London, was sufficiently in the country to afford a pleasantprospect of trees, meadows, and winding reaches of river. The hedgerowswere thick with twining bryony and feathery traveller's joy; here andthere the hips were reddening, and a ripe blackberry or two tempted themto linger upon the way. It was cooler than Keith had anticipated, for afresh breeze was blowing from the Surrey Hills, sending white clouds inlong streamers across the blue of the sky, and shaking down a fewwindfalls from the apple trees that overhung Farmer Walton's gate.
The two soon left the high road, and, after strolling leisurely throughthe welcome shade of the wood, climbed over a stile into a pasture, andafter another five minutes' walking found themselves in a stubble field,within sight of the river. Here was the subject upon which Aldred haddetermined to try her brush. It was a picturesque old cottage, withred-tiled roof, lattice windows, a porch wreathed in purple clematis,and a garden gay with dahlias, looking attractive enough in theSeptember sunshine to make even an amateur wish to commit its beautiesto paper.
Aldred chose her point of view with great deliberation, and considerabletaste for a girl of only fourteen. She fixed her easel where a couple ofelders would make a background for the red roof, and where she couldcatch a pleasant angle of the gable window and a peep of the distancebeyond. Having unpacked her portfolio, she settled herself on her campstool and began to put in her sketch with rapid lines, working, indeed,more quickly than correctly, but nevertheless obtaining rather a goodeffect. Keith, finding a pile of corn stooks conveniently near, flunghimself down in the shade, and, with a fern leaf to flip away flies, laywith half-closed eyes watching his sister's energetic pencil.
"How you go at it!" he remarked. "It makes me hot just to look at you!"
"Then don't look! I thought you wanted to read? You made me promise notto open my lips, and I haven't spoken a word since we came."
"Most heroic self-denial on your part, I'm sure! I believe I'm too lazyeven to read. I like to lounge in the holidays, especially when it'sgetting so near the end."
"Only a week now to the fourteenth," said Aldred.
"Yes, worse luck! I wish it were a month!"
"And I am counting the days. I want the time to come so much!"
"It's a case of 'where ignorance is bliss', my dear girl. You've neverbeen to school before; I have! You won't find yourself in such ananxious hurry to start off by next September, if I'm anything of a trueprophet."
"I expect I shall. All the stories I've read about school sounddelightful--the girls have such fun. I'm looking forward to going mostimmensely. It will be far nicer than having a governess at home. It's sofearfully slow while you're away at Stavebury. Aunt Bertha grows moreprim and particular every day, and I never seem able to do a singlething right; it's scold and lecture, lecture and scold, from morningtill night! As for Miss Perkins, I was sick of the very sight of her!You can't imagine how glad I was when she took her final departure. Isaid good-bye as nicely as I could, for decency's sake, and then rushedinto the empty schoolroom and danced a jig and c
lapped my hands for joy,to think I need never do lessons with her there again."
Keith laughed. "I don't suppose she's crying her eyes out over youeither," he observed.
"I'm sure she isn't. I've no doubt she's almost as delighted as I am.She's going to The Thorns, to teach Blanche and Minna Lawson. They'reabsolutely pattern girls, warranted never to do anything they shouldn't,so I hope she'll be happy at last. I find them insufferably dull."
"You may get a far worse mistress at school than Miss Perkins."
"I don't think so. You know, Mary Kennedy has been at The Grange, andshe says Miss Drummond is a perfect dear. They have all kinds of gamesthere too. It will be lovely to learn hockey and lacrosse; I've neverplayed either before."
"School isn't all games, I can tell you," said Keith, pulling a strawfrom the stook and chewing it meditatively. "There's a jolly lot ofgrind to be gone through. You'll find you'll have to set that young headof yours to work in good earnest."
"I can easily do that," declared Aldred, tossing back her dark curls,"I've no fear at all of not managing my lessons. Why, when I cared totake the trouble, I could simply astonish Miss Perkins. I could worksums far quicker than she did, and I used to reel off French verbs sofast that sometimes she could hardly follow me, even with the book inher hand."
"All very well with a private governess, Madam Conceit! You've had nocompetition. Wait till you work with a class. At The Grange you'llprobably find several other girls who can reel things off a littlequicker."
"Then I shall go quicker still. I tell you, I mean to be top of myclass, and head of the examinations too."
"Don't boast too much beforehand, or pride may bring a fall!" saidKeith, speaking with the superior authority of his sixteen years."You'll have to find your own level, Sis. The other girls may haveambitions as well as you, and will be ready to dispute for the headplace."
"Then they won't get it! It's booked already for Aldred Laurence, andso is the tennis championship, and anything that's first and foremost inthe way of hockey and lacrosse."
"Great Scott! What more?" exclaimed Keith, looking at his sister withquizzical amusement. "Are there no bounds to your ambition?"
"Well, I've often heard you say yourself that if one is to get on atschool one must do well at games."
"No one tolerates slackers, certainly I'll allow that."
"I mean to be a general favourite," continued Aldred. "I want the girlsto be tremendously fond of me, and ready to do anything for me."
"They won't jump into your arms all at once, I assure you."
"I'll make them like me! Just you wait and see! I can always make peoplecare about me when I try hard enough."
"How about Miss Perkins?" suggested Keith dryly.
"Miss Perkins? Oh, well, I didn't even try! I disliked her so much, Iwanted to get rid of her. But it will be a very different matter indeedwhen I go to The Grange. I don't mind undertaking that by the time I'vebeen there a year I shall be the most popular girl, not only in myclass, but in the whole school."
"Whew! That's a large order! Popularity isn't so easy to come by, Sis.It depends on a dozen things--sometimes, indeed, it seems almost anaccident. If you work too hard for it, you may overstep the line, andfind yourself sent to Coventry instead. I've known two or three fellowsserved that way."
"You always want to discourage me," declared Aldred, with a flush on hercheeks.
"No, I don't. But I think you've far too good an opinion of yourself.You need taking down considerably, and fortunately school will soon dothat for you. You'll talk very differently from this at the end of yourfirst term, or I'm much mistaken."
Aldred shrugged her shoulders. She was confident of her own success, andregarded Keith's warnings simply in the light of brotherly teasing. Shesaid no more for the present, but gave her whole attention to hersketch, which had now arrived at the painting stage. She dabbed on thecolours with the greatest assurance; there was no hesitation in thebold, rather clever strokes, and the picture, though somewhat"slap-dash" in style, was already beginning to bear a very fairresemblance to the scene before her.
"You're not the only one out working to-day," remarked Keith, after aninterval of silence. "Here's Mr. Bowden himself sauntering down thefield in search of a subject."
Aldred looked round and waved her hand to a tall, grey-haired gentleman,who, armed with a sketchbook, appeared to be jotting down the outlinesof some of the corn stooks. On seeing her smiling face he came at oncein her direction, and stopped critically behind her easel.
Mr. Bowden was an artist of considerable repute; he was a friend oftheir father's, and always had a pleasant word for Aldred when hevisited at the house. Therefore she awaited his verdict with someanxiety.
"Very good, Aldred! I had heard you were fond of drawing, though I didnot know you could do so well as this. But, my dear child, it's full offaults, all the same. The perspective of the front of the house iscompletely wrong."
"I'm afraid I don't know anything about perspective," pleaded Aldred. "Ijust drew it as I thought it looked. The cottage is so pretty, I felt Isimply must paint it."
"That is the right spirit. Go on and try, even if you don't alwayssucceed. I am glad to see you make an effort to sketch out-of-doors.There is no teacher like Mother Nature, and the attempt to reproduce aliving tree, or a house, on paper will do you more good than a hundredcopies. Why did you make the lines of your windows run up, when they soclearly ought to run down?"
"I don't quite understand," said Aldred, looking puzzled.
"Give me your pencil a moment, and I will show you."
"Oh, thank you!" cried Aldred, jumping up with alacrity. "Please take mycamp stool, and then you will have exactly the same view as I have. Itlooks so different when one is sitting down."
Mr. Bowden good-naturedly installed himself in Aldred's place, and,taking her paint-box and brushes, began to give her a practical lessonin sketching from nature.
"The composition is not bad," he remarked, "but if you had brought inthat far tree, which is considerably taller than the cottage, it wouldhave raised the subject on the left-hand side of the picture, and givena pleasanter result. Shall I put in a touch to show you what I mean?"
"Oh, please!--as many as you like. It would be such a help to watchyou!" replied Aldred.
"Very well, then. In the first place, I make the lines of yourperspective slope down to their right vanishing point. Is not thatbetter? Now, a dab of brighter blue in the sky, with a raw edge to givethe effect of that white cloud. The trees need massing together, with agreater depth of shade to give roundness to them, and a branch justindicated here and there among the foliage. The stubble field needs atone of richer and warmer yellow, while a few stooks here in theforeground would be the utmost improvement. Look how I am blocking themin, with strong light and shadow, and two or three ears markeddefinitely at the top, to show against the dark of the hedge beyond.There! Go on working yourself at the field and the distance. Paintmoistly, and don't spare your cobalt blue."
"It's like magic!" said Aldred, reviewing the improvement in her sketchwith immense satisfaction. "I hardly know how to thank you. I'm afraidI've been wasting your time dreadfully."
"No matter, if it has helped you," said Mr. Bowden, picking up hissketch-book. "I must go now, though, for I want to catch the effect ofthe late afternoon light on those marshy pools beyond the cottage. Don'tforget the hints I have given you," and with a friendly nod to Keith hewalked rapidly away, and was soon out of sight.
For some little time after Mr. Bowden had left, Aldred painted awayindustriously at her foreground. Keith, in the shelter of the stooksclose by, was deep in his book; and there was no sound except thechirping of birds, or the lowing of cattle, to disturb her. Howpleasant it was! She keenly enjoyed each touch of her brush, and triedhard to follow the directions which her kind old friend had given.
Fully half an hour had passed away, and her stubble field had madeconsiderable progress, when voices in the pathway behind her caused herto look
round.
It was Mr. and Mrs. Silvester, the vicar and his wife, who, bearing abasket, were walking in the direction of the cottage, no doubt with theintention of paying a visit to old Mrs. Barker.
Recognizing the little figure at the easel, they came at once to seewhat she was working at so briskly.
"Aldred, my dear! have you turned artist? This is an extremely goodsketch. How long has it taken you?" asked Mrs. Silvester.
"I only began it this afternoon," answered Aldred. "We came here aboutthree o'clock--didn't we, Keith?"
"It is really excellent!" exclaimed the Vicar. "I myself have had alittle experience in painting, so I am able to judge. The composition ofthe picture is most artistic; I admire the way the tree has beenarranged to just overtop the chimney, and the large corn stook to bringthe eye down to the foreground. The perspective is correct, the lightand shade have been handled in quite a masterly fashion, and the skywith the patch of cloud is particularly happy. I hope you are going tohave drawing lessons at school. I am sure you have unusual talent, whichought certainly to be cultivated."
Keith, who had risen from his seat among the corn to greet the visitors,gave a peculiar, rather suggestive cough, but did not volunteer anyremark. Aldred's eyes were very bright, and her cheeks pink, as shereplied:
"I'm certainly fond of painting. I don't think I can do any more to thedistance. I was just finishing the foreground when you came."
"Don't put another touch to it," said the vicar. "It is excellent justas it is. I beg that you will shut your paint-box, and leave it; itwould be a mistake to work at it any more."
"I am most interested to have seen it," declared Mrs. Silvester; "it isdelightful to find anyone with such a decided gift for art. You mustmake it your special study, and we shall look for great things from youwhen you have finished school."
She passed on with her husband, and as they walked towards the cottagethe words "marvellous talent" and "astonishing cleverness" were waftedback by the summer breeze.
Aldred closed her paint-box as the Vicar had suggested. Somehow she didnot feel inclined to continue her work; all the pleasure had suddenlyfaded away from it.
Keith had subsided once more into his former lazy attitude, and sat idlypicking ears of corn, preserving an ominous silence. He waited until Mr.and Mrs. Silvester were safely inside old Mrs. Barker's garden, thenburst forth.
"Well, of all the sneaks you're the biggest! Call that your work? Why,it's Mr. Bowden's!--all the best parts, at any rate, that they werepraising so much. And you calmly took the credit for the whole! I wasn'tgoing to speak and give you away, but I'll let you know what I think ofyou now."
"Oh, Keith! What could I do?" stammered Aldred, the tears welling up inher eyes and splashing down upon the paint-box. "Don't scold me so! Ican't bear you to be cross with me."
"But you deserve it! Why didn't you say it wasn't really your ownpainting?"
"They never asked me if I had been helped," answered Aldred; "and, afterall, it's my sketch, not Mr. Bowden's."
"Yes, your sketch, but improved absolutely beyond recognition. Lookhere! if you play these tricks at school you'll pretty soon findyourself the reverse of popular. Boys wouldn't stand it, and I don'tsuppose girls will either."
"It didn't strike me to say anything," sobbed Aldred. "Oh, Keith, don'tlook at me like that! Shall I run after them and tell them? I will, ifyou want. I'll go at once, if you'll only be friends with me again."
"No, they're inside the cottage, condoling with Mrs. Barker over herrheumatism. You'd only make yourself ridiculous if you followed them,and came out with a dramatic confession in the middle of the kitchen. Ihate scenes. Do turn off the water-works, there's a good girl! Be alittle straighter in future if you want to keep chums with me, though.Here, I'll help you to pack up your traps, and we'll go home to tea.Your sketch is still wet; if you carry that I'll bring on the rest."
Very crestfallen and miserable, Aldred took up her unfortunate painting,and began to walk away down the path towards the wood, leaving herbrother to follow. In her brown holland dress and red poppy hat she madesuch a sweet picture against the yellow of the corn stooks that, inspite of his disapproval, Keith could not help looking after her with acertain amount of admiration. No one who met Aldred Laurence could havefailed to be struck by her personality. She was very neatly and trimlymade, and had a way of holding herself erect and looking alert that gaveher a distinguished appearance, and seemed to raise her above the levelof the average girl. Her lovely dark eyes, long, curling brown hair, andwarm, rich colouring had a gipsy effect that was particularlypicturesque. Her eyes were so bright and soft and expressive, her cheekshad two such bewitching dimples, and she smiled so readily and winninglyin response to the smallest advance, that she generally made friendseasily, and had won notice from strangers since the days of herbabyhood.
To sober, downright, matter-of-fact Keith his sister was often a sorepuzzle. Her eager, impetuous, excitable disposition, and many impulsiveacts, were as foreign to him as an unknown language.
"Why need you work yourself up so tremendously over every trifle? What'sthe use of taking life so stormily?" he once remonstrated.
"I don't know," replied Aldred. "I seem to care so much more abouteverything than you do. I can't help it; I suppose it was born in me."
"Then it's high time you got it out of you!" remarked Keith, whose idealwas a state of unruffled calm on all occasions.
In spite of the difference in their temperaments the two were reallyattached to each other, and though Keith might not be demonstrative, hetolerated Aldred's devotion when they were strictly alone, though hewould not allow her, as he expressed it, to "make an exhibition of himbefore other fellows".
Poor Aldred! She had a very warm and loving heart, and a perpetualhunger for affection that, so far, had failed to be entirely satisfied.Since the day, seven years before, when her mother had started on thatlong journey from which none return, nobody had seemed to understand herquite, or to know how to manage her aright. Her father, a cleverbarrister who went daily from Dingfield into London, was too absorbed inhis profession to give much time or sympathy to his children. Havingsent his son to school, and provided a daily governess for his daughter,he felt that he had done all that was required of him. The masters atStavebury were responsible for Keith, and as for Aldred, if anythingmore was needful for her upbringing than Miss Perkins could give, surelyhis sister, who managed his house so admirably, could look after hismotherless girl?
Unfortunately, though Aunt Bertha had great experience and excellentskill in the making of jams and the care of linen, she had no aptitudefor the handling of human souls. She was a stout, bustling,unimaginative, prosaic person, without an atom of romance or sentimentin her composition. A nature such as Aldred's was beyond hercomprehension. She tried to do her best for the child, but it was suchan unsympathetic best that it had the unhappy effect of setting abarrier between herself and her niece which neither seemed able to pass.Long and lucidly would Aunt Bertha reason and expound, and enjoin habitsof neatness, order, and punctuality. All to no purpose! Arguments neverappealed to Aldred. She would listen with an air of don't-careindifference, and do just the same next time. Yet if her aunt could havegiven her one warm kiss, the battle would have been won. It was a sadpity, for the girl had in reality a very sweet disposition, though atpresent it was like a neglected garden, where a few choice blossomsmight be found, struggling with ugly weeds that threatened sometimesalmost to strangle the flowers.
The precise governess carefully chosen by Aunt Bertha had not helpedmatters. She found her pupil bright indeed, but only ready to work byfits and starts, and quite unmoved by fear of punishment, or promise ofreward. So strong at last had the friction grown that Miss Perkins hadherself resigned her post, and recommended that Aldred should be packedoff to school.
"I have done my utmost," she said to Miss Laurence, "but I feel that Iam a complete failure. I have no influence over Aldred, and she is notmaking the slightest progress. In t
he circumstances I cannot honestlycontinue to teach her. In my opinion a little strict discipline is whatshe requires, and the sooner she experiences it the better."
The decision to send her away (long held over her head as a threat),instead of daunting Aldred, had delighted her. Aunt Bertha was muchrelieved. She had dreaded a storm when the question was raised, andthough she considered it a bad characteristic in a girl to be glad toleave home, she felt it removed a difficulty when her niece accepted thesituation so readily.
To Aldred the idea of forming herself on the prim pattern of her auntwas intolerable. She was ready to copy anybody whom she loved andadmired, but to be obliged to repress her enthusiasms, and reduce herideals to the level of the commonplace, seemed like being forced into abox too small to contain her.
"Aunt Bertha never understands," she thought. "She says I must try togrow up now, and be sensible. If growing up means getting cold and calmand stupid, and taking everything as a matter of course, I'd rather not.I'll just stop a child always, however hard they may try to make medifferent!"
Such was Aldred at the time our story begins,--a mass of contradictions,so wayward and yet so winning, a mixture of good impulses and weakpoints, equally ready to join a crusade or to follow the multitude to doevil; waiting, like a gaily painted but rudderless vessel, to belaunched on to the stormy ocean of school life.