CHAPTER X
An Antique Purchase
As the summer came on, bringing the climbing roses out on the cottages,and filling the village gardens with a wealth of flowers, Katrine'sartistic soul revelled more and more in the picturesque beauty ofHeathwell. Her sketching expeditions were an intense delight; she wasimproving fast under Miss Aubrey's tuition, and also picked up manyhints from Mr. Freeman, who would always stop, if he passed theireasels, and give her work the benefit of his criticism. Katrine oftenfelt as if she were living in the past at Heathwell. Not only were thecottages antique, but the people also had an old-world atmospherelingering among them. Many of the women wore sun-bonnets; they bakedtheir bread in brick ovens, made rhubarb wine and cowslip beer, curedtheir own bacon, and pursued various homely little avocations which arefast going out of date in other parts of the country. Even theElementary-school children were not aggressively advanced; some of themstill bobbed curtsies, and wore clean white pinafores to go to church onSundays.
Miss Aubrey was a great favourite in the village. Her painting broughther closely into touch with the people, and she had a ready sympathyfor them, quite unmixed with patronage--a distinction which theyrecognized and appreciated. The patriarch in the picturesqueweather-stained coat would slowly bring out his reminiscences during thehours she sat sketching him in his garden; the mothers would tell hertheir troubles; and the children swarmed round her like bees. It was anentirely new phase of life for Katrine, who had had no experience beforeof our sturdy English peasantry. She saw the people at first throughMiss Aubrey's spectacles; then she learnt to like them on her ownaccount, and acquired quite a number of village friends--the blacksmithwho smiled at her from his forge, the crippled wife of the saddler, whowaved greetings from her seat at the window, the fussy little spinsterin charge of the post office, the six ancient pensioners who generallysat sunning themselves on the bench outside the almshouses, the cobblerwho bobbed up his head and smiled as she passed his open doorway, thewidow who baked the brown bread and the muffins, and the elderly dame atthe crockery shop.
There were many quaint people in Heathwell--so many that Katrine oftendeclared a list ought to be made of the village worthies and preservedin a local museum. There was Linton, a white-haired, bent old labourer,who supplemented his parish relief by breaking stones on the roadside.Katrine first made friends with him over a stile. It happened to berather a high and difficult one, and he was sitting on the top of it, soshe paused to allow him to descend. "Come on, missie, come on!" he criedin encouraging tones. "Though it do be a rare awkward stile forfaymales. I telled Parson so, when he a-put it up; but says he to I,'Faymales or no faymales, they'll have to be getten over it!'"
Linton was a character in his way, a self-taught antiquarian, a naturelover, a dormant poet, an incipient artist, and something of aphilosopher round it all. Who knows what strange dreams he may havedreamed in his youth, of fame to be won and songs to be uttered? Butlife's obligations had proved too heavy a burden, and his was still amute inglorious muse. His delight in Miss Aubrey's sketches was almostpathetic; he would toddle far out of his way to pass her easel, and takea peep at the progress of some roadside scene or cottage garden. He evenvolunteered, one evening, to find her a subject, and to please him, sheand Katrine allowed him to escort them to the summit of a mound near theriver. The place without doubt was an ancient grave, for it was close toOffa's dyke, the great eighth-century barrier between Saxon and Celt,and though from an artistic point of view it was not paintable, theromance of its situation was palpable.
To Miss Aubrey and Katrine the true subject was the white-haired, ruggedold fellow himself, standing outlined against the glowing west, as withoutstretched hand he showed where the slain in the forgottenbattle-field had been heaped, and the earth piled high above them. Hisvoice rang as he tried to picture the far-off scene, and there shonefrom his eyes just a gleam of the divine fire.
"Look around you!" he cried. "See where yon river's a-windin' down, andyon hills a-stand back as they did a thousand years agone. Aye! I oftencomes hither and thinks what a sight it will be for their uprising!"
Of all the quaint village folk perhaps the funniest was Mrs. Stubbs, whokept a little shop at the corner of the High Street. It was nominally agreen-grocer's, but it included so many other things as well, that itmight fairly claim to be a china store, a second-hand bookseller's, anda repository of antiquities. Though the counter was spread with cabbagesand cauliflowers, the floor was covered with crockery, and the smallparlour behind was overflowing with old furniture and all kinds ofoddments picked up at auctions--eighteenth-century chairs, bow-shapedmirrors, ancient etchings and engravings, Wedgwood plates, Toby jugs,horn lanterns, tortoise-shell tea-caddies, blunderbusses, cases ofbutterflies, clocks, snuff-boxes, medallions, pewter dishes, and a vastnumber of other articles. Mrs. Stubbs had a genius for a bargain. Shewas a familiar figure at every sale in the district, where she would bidsuccessfully even against hook-nosed individuals of the Hebrewpersuasion, and bear off her spoils in triumph. She knew the marketablevalue of most of her antiques to the last halfpenny, and carried on asuccessful little business by disposing of them to London dealers, or tocollectors in the neighbourhood, often at double the prices she hadoriginally paid for them.
For Katrine this old curiosity shop held an absolute fascination. Shehad been brought up to appreciate such things, for her father's chiefhobby was the collecting of antiques. Mr. Marsden revelled in carved oakfurniture and Worcester china, and had communicated some of hisenthusiasm to his daughter. Miss Aubrey sympathized with Katrine'stastes, and would often allow her to pay a visit to the shop, sometimessending her there on small errands.
For the ostensible purpose of ordering peas for Aireyholme, Katrineentered Mrs. Stubbs's repository one memorable afternoon. The good damehad attended a sale on the preceding day, and her small establishmenthad received so many additions to its already large collection that itwas almost overflowing into the street. She was superintending therearrangement of some of these articles by Mr. Stubbs, a blear-eyedindividual who proved a sad thorn in the flesh to his capable betterhalf, and whose delinquencies formed a topic for much of herconversation.
"He's no more use nor a babe to-day," she confided indignantly, "withhis legs that wobbly and his hand that shaky, I daren't let him lay afinger on the china, for fear he'd be dropping it. He took half a crownout of the till when my back was turned, and off he goes with itstraight to the 'Dragon'. Well, he was a second-hand article when Imarried him, and I might 'a known he weren't up to much, if I'd had theexperience I've got now."
Mrs. Stubbs spoke with warmth, evidently regarding her husband as a badinvestment, which she unfortunately had no opportunity of passing on ata profit to anybody else. She hustled him out of the way at present, andtelling him to retire to the kitchen, took Katrine into the crowdedlittle parlour to inspect her latest purchases. The sale had been atthe house of an old maiden lady who had possessed many antiquebelongings, including carved ivories and miniatures, as well as Sheratonfurniture. These treasures were, of course, far beyond Katrine's pocket,though she regarded them with the covetous eye of a born collector.
"I'm afraid I can't afford anything old," she said at last. "I reallycame to order three pecks of peas for Mrs. Franklin."
"I've a little cupboard here I'd like to show you," urged Mrs. Stubbs,who always saw in Katrine a possible customer. "It went dirt-cheap atthe sale, too, so I could afford to let you have it for one pound five,and clear a trifle of profit, just enough to pay me for the trouble offetching it. What do you think of this, now?"
The cupboard in question was a small oak one, about two feet in height,with the date 1791 carved on its door. It was plainly intended forspices, for inside it had nine tiny drawers, surrounding a space in thecentre. It was such a quaint, bijou, attractive little piece thatKatrine promptly fell in love with it. She knew it would absolutelydelight her father, and she determined to buy it, and give it to him asa birthday present.
/> "If you'd say a pound?" she ventured, remembering that all old-furnituredealers affect an almost Eastern habit of bargaining.
"Done!" declared Mrs. Stubbs promptly. "I wouldn't quarrel with you overa few shillings, and I'm so stocked up with things, I'll be glad to makeroom. This is as nice a bit of oak as you'd find in all Heathwell."
"I suppose it comes from Miss Jackson's family?" said Katrine. "Whatare those two initials carved under the date? They look like an R and anL."
"Maybe it might come from Mrs. Jackson's mother's. I didn't hear whereshe got it, but she'd a lot of fine stuff in her house, and thought adeal of it, too. I've seen her at auctions myself, buying a few oddtrifles she fancied. Poor dear lady! it's sad to think she's dead andgone. She'd be sore upset if she could see her things all scattered.Well, missie, I'll send Stubbs round to Aireyholme this evening with thecupboard; but don't you give him the money for it, however he may ask.You call and pay me quiet-like, some other time when he ain't about.He's not fit to be trusted with a penny piece."
The delinquent Stubbs staggered round in the course of the evening,bearing the little oak cupboard in his arms; but, mindful of hisfailing, Katrine forbore even to give him a tip for himself.
"I felt horribly mean," she assured Miss Aubrey, to whom she hadconfided the particulars of her purchase, "especially as he hinted sodesperately."
"You were right, for he would have gone straight to the 'Dragon' andspent it. Shall we carry your cupboard into the studio? Then we can allenjoy it while it's here."
"Oh, please do! Isn't it a little beauty? Dad will be simply delightedwith it. I want to show it to Mr. Freeman. He's a very good judge of oldoak, and will know if it's genuine."
"There can be no mistake about its genuineness. I think you are verylucky to get hold of it," replied Miss Aubrey, calling one of theservants, and telling her to take the cupboard upstairs.
A place was found for Katrine's treasure on the top of an oak chest, andit was admired to her heart's content. By special invitation Mr. Freemancame to inspect it, and congratulated her on her possession.
"It's a real antique--a very pretty little piece. It will just suit Mr.Marsden. In the meantime it's an ornament in the studio here. You'llfind these small drawers most convenient to keep paints and bottles in."
Katrine always rode her hobbies hard. The acquisition of the oakspice-cupboard had started her in a new line. She now posed as acollector of antiques. She borrowed some books from Mr. Freeman, andafter a brief study of their contents began to talk glibly of theSheraton and Heppelwhite periods, Adams chimney-pieces, and soft pasteWorcester china. She aired her new-found knowledge so ceaselessly, inseason and out of season, that the girls, always ready to take offenceat her superior attitude, began to make fun of her. They chuckledaudibly when Mrs. Franklin, more mathematical than artistic, made hercalculate the cubic contents of her cupboard as a problem in class,especially as her answer was wrong, and she had to work the sum again.All sorts of mock treasures were presented to her: rusty nails, oldtins, scraps of leather dug up from the garden, or pieces of worm-eatenwood. One morning the following poetic gem was left on herdressing-table. The authoress was apparently too modest to sign hername, so the lines were anonymous.
"There was a collector of Oak, She knew more than ordin'ry folk! On pastes soft or hard She'd hold forth by the yard, And now she's become quite a joke!"
Fortunately Katrine possessed a sense of humour that counterbalanced thestrain of priggishness in her composition. She laughed at the effusionand took the hint. She was perhaps conscious that she had been "puttingon side" rather too vigorously, and that it would be judicious to climbdown.
"It's Viola who wrote it, I'm certain," she confided to Gwethyn. "Lookhere! I vote we play a joke on the school. I've thought of somethingrather fine."
The two girls put their heads together, and had a long confabulation.The result they confided to nobody, but during the afternoon they wereobserved to be hunting round the garden and orchard, apparently insearch of something. Next day, Katrine studied the time-table carefully,and ascertained that the studio would be unoccupied by any classes from3.30 to 4 p.m. Making the excuse that she wished to touch up somesketches there, she easily persuaded Miss Aubrey to excuse part of heroutdoor work that afternoon, and returning to Aireyholme at half-pastthree, she secured undisturbed possession of the room for half an hour.She did not spend the time in painting, though she was extremely busy.When the girls trooped from their forms at four o'clock, they found alarge and prominent notice posted up in the passage.
ART EXHIBITION
A choice and unique COLLECTION OF ANTIQUES AND CURIOS is now on view in the Studio, and forms an unparalleled opportunity of making acquaintance with the domestic arts and industries of the Middle Ages. Many objects of historic interest. Inspection Invited. Admission Free. Catalogues One Penny.
Proceeds given to the Belgian Relief Fund.
Everybody at once marched upstairs; even Dorrie and Viola, who wereinclined to hold aloof, fell victims to Eve's instinct of curiosity, andfollowed the rest, excusing their weakness on the ground that asmonitresses they felt obliged to be present at all school happenings,and were thus only fulfilling their duty.
Giggling a little, the girls entered the studio. The large table in thecentre was spread with a variety of objects, neatly numbered as in amuseum. By the door stood Katrine with a pile of hand-printedcatalogues, and the Belgian Relief Fund Box from the dining-roomchimney-piece. As the exhibition seemed unintelligible without acatalogue, the pennies rattled briskly into her box. The exhibits wereas diverse as they were extraordinary, and according to the descriptionswere both rare and historic.
No. 1. (Upper leather of a mouldy old boot.) Portion of the footgear of Simon de Montfort, worn before the Battle of Evesham, 1265.
No. 2. (A broken crock of china.) Valuable piece of soft paste Worcester from the Huntingdon Collection.
No. 3. (A rusty hairpin.) Pin worn in the head-dress of Queen Elizabeth at the Kenilworth Pageant.
No. 4. (A crooked nail.) Nail from the gibbet of Piers Gaveston, executed at Blacklow Hill, Warwick, 1312.
No. 5. (A dilapidated horseshoe.) Shoe worn by the horse of Charles I at the Battle of Nottingham, 1642.
No. 6. Glove button of Marie Antoinette.
No. 7. Needle used in embroidery by Mary Queen of Scots.
No. 8. Safety-pin employed in the toilet of Edward VI when an infant.
No. 9. Portion of feeding-bottle of Henry VIII.
No. 10. Do. fragment of rattle.
No. 11. (A worm-eaten piece of wood.) Relic of vessel of the Spanish Armada.
No. 12. (Rusty cocoa tin.) Remains of cup in which the Barons drank success to Magna Charta, 1215.
No. 13. (A small pebble.) Stone worn as a penance in the shoe of Henry II, on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas a Becket.
No. 14. (A portion of wickerwork.) Fragment of guillotine basket used in French Revolution.
No. 15. (A rusty key.) Original key of dungeon in Berkeley Castle where Edward II was murdered.
No. 16. (A shabby quill.) Pen used to sign Magna Charta, 1215.
The girls laughed immoderately to see the various objects which they hadpresented in mockery to Katrine, described as such priceless relics.
"You haven't put in the soda-water bottle I gave you!" said Coralie.
"It's stamped with the maker's name, though I thought of breaking it,and preserving a portion as 'Roman Glass'," replied Katrine. "I'm goingto write a book on collecting, next. I shall call it 'From Nine toNinety, Reminiscences of the Fads of my First and Second Childhoods, bya Centenarian'. The introduction will contain 'Early Natural HistoryInstincts--Preservation of Earth Worms and Dissection of Flies at theAge of Two'. It's to be published by subscription, 7_s._ 6_d._ pervolume. Anybody who likes can give me the money now."
"We'll wait till we see the proofs, thanks!" tittered the girls.
"I like Simon de Montfort's shoe best," declared Githa; then drawingGwethyn aside, she asked, "Where did Katrine get that little cupboard?"
Githa had been away from school for a few days, on the sick list, andhad only returned that morning. She had heard the girls teasing Katrineabout her oak treasure, but had not seen it until now. She examined itwith much attention.
"Kattie bought it from Mrs. Stubbs," answered Gwethyn. "I believe shegot it at a sale--a Miss Jackson's things."
Githa nodded.
"I know. She died last month. It used to be ours. The R and L are forRichard Ledbury. It stood on a table in the library at the Grange.Grandfather had promised it to me. He often called it 'Githa'scupboard'. I suppose Uncle Wilfred put it in with the rest of the thingsat the sale, and Miss Jackson must have bought it. I always wonderedwhat had become of it. It's such a dear little cupboard."
"Oh! I'm sorry if we've sneaked it away from you."
"Never mind. It's not your fault; I'd rather Katrine had it than anyoneelse. I'm glad to see it again, and to know that somebody's got itwho'll value it."