Miss France said ‘silly’ was near enough.
‘Yes, that’s what he meant all right,’ agreed Bet. ‘So then Mummy said, “Don’t swear before the child” and Daddy said, “Sorry, but she hears a lot worse from the men at the farm” – which of course I do,’ said Bet with a chuckle. ‘Mummy would be surprised if she knew what I heard the men saying – and so would you, Miss France. Shall I tell you some of the –’
Miss France said hastily that she would rather not.
‘Well, anyway,’ said Bet, continuing her story. ‘Daddy said he would be sick if he went, and Jardine could take me, but we must come out before the last act because that was enough to make a horse sick. Horses are never sick, you know, Miss France.’
Miss France said she was aware of this interesting fact.
‘So we went and it was lovely,’ declared Bet, leaping two feet into the air at the joyous recollection. ‘Oh, it was lovely! I didn’t want to come away before the end but Jardine said we must. I can’t make Jardine do what I want. It’s a pity.’
Miss France did not think it was a pity, so she made no comment. As a matter of fact Miss France was somewhat embarrassed at receiving so much information of an intimate nature about the Scott ménage but she had not the heart to silence her informant. Bet was lonely. (‘You’ve got to have somebody to play with!’ was a cri de cœur.)
It doesn’t matter, thought Barbie. It’s all quite harmless and in three days I shall be gone and never see them again. She was surprised to discover that the thought of never seeing them again gave her a feeling of deep regret.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When Barbie and Bet got back to the Castle they found that the men of the party had breakfasted early and gone out shooting. Shortly after breakfast Mrs Scott took Bet and went off to Ryddelton in the car. She apologised for leaving her guest, but Barbie was only too pleased to be left to get on with her work without fear of interruption. She unpacked the suitcases of patterns, got out a notebook and a measuring-tape and asked Jardine for a step-ladder. Jardine was in his shirt-sleeves this morning and was wearing a green-baize apron, for he had been cleaning the silver. He brought the ladder and hovered doubtfully.
‘It’s all right; I can manage,’ Barbie told him. ‘I’m used to this kind of work.’
‘It’s queer-like wurrk for a leddy.’
‘There’s nothing queer about it,’ declared Barbie smiling. ‘I have to earn my living and this is how I do it – that’s all.’
She had decided that there was not much to be done about the drawing-room, for it was a period room and if you did anything at all you would have to make a clean sweep. Mrs Scott could have new curtains if she liked but it was not really necessary. The room was large and difficult to heat – it would be very cold in winter – but why use it in winter? There was a room, facing south, which would make a cosy little sitting-room. Of course it needed vision to see this room as it might be, for at present it was dreary beyond words. There was a holly-tree outside the window, which blocked the light; the walls were covered with mustard-coloured paper, and a single electric bulb dangled forlornly from the middle of the ceiling. The room was used as a dumping-place for anything that was not wanted and contained a mass of heterogeneous furniture, two rolled-up carpets and a sewing-machine … but its proportions were good and the fireplace was well situated.
Tear up the tree, thought Barbie. Clear out all the rubbish; put in plugs for standard lamps and radiators; paper the walls and lay a fitted carpet and the poor little Cinderella-room would blossom into a charming princess.
The dining-room was even more interesting. It was hung with dark-red wall-paper which obviously had been there for a very long time. Barbie had a feeling that beneath this paper there was wood panelling. If so the paper must come off. Wooden panelling would be perfect for the dining-room at Oddam Castle.
She was standing on the top of the ladder tapping the wall when the door of the dining-room opened and Henry Buckland appeared.
‘I say!’ he exclaimed. ‘You ought to have somebody to hold that ladder!’
Barbie was annoyed. She had decided not to speak to the man, but there was no option. He had crossed the room and was holding the ladder.
‘I don’t need help,’ said Barbie ungraciously. ‘I’m used to climbing about on ladders. It’s my job. Why aren’t you out shooting with Colonel Scott?’
‘I came back because I wanted to speak to you.’
Barbie said nothing.
‘Couldn’t you come down?’ he asked.
‘I’m very busy,’ declared Barbie, tapping the wall industriously.
‘Just for a few minutes – it won’t take long.’
‘I really don’t know what you can have to say.’
‘You’re annoyed with me –’
‘Not in the least. Why should I be annoyed? We only met once – at Elsie Mainwaring’s wedding.’
‘I thought you – seemed rather annoyed.’
Barbie did not reply. She took out her note-book and jotted down some figures. (Afterwards, when she examined her notes, these figures puzzled her considerably.)
‘Look here, I wish you’d come down and speak to me!’ exclaimed Henry Buckland. ‘I can’t speak to you up there, it gives me a crick in the neck. Please come down, Miss France.’
The unfortunate thing was that Barbie wanted to come down. She had finished tapping the wall some time ago, and had made up her mind that there really was wooden panelling – right up to the ceiling. Now she wanted to move into the sitting-room and get on with her job. She did not want to comply with Commander Buckland’s request, but there was nothing else for it.
‘I’m coming down,’ said Barbie and descended with agility.
‘Oh good!’ he exclaimed. ‘I just wanted to ask you –’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t speak to you now,’ said Barbie firmly. ‘I’ve a lot to do. I want to get on with my work.’ And with that she lifted the ladder and carried it towards the door.
He ran after her and seized the ladder from her grasp. ‘Where do you want it put?’ he asked her.
Barbie would much rather have carried it herself but she decided it would be more dignified not to argue so she led the way to the ‘Cinderella-room’ and opened the door.
‘Here?’ Henry exclaimed in surprise. ‘But this room is never used. Jennifer won’t want new curtains in here.’
‘If Mrs Scott doesn’t want them she needn’t have them,’ said Barbie and, taking the ladder, she erected it at the window and climbed up.
Henry Buckland looked at her for a few moments in silence. At last he said, ‘Miss France, what have I done?’
Barbie looked down. There was very real bewilderment in the very blue eyes.
‘Look here!’ he continued. ‘I’ve done something to offend you. It isn’t fair not to tell me and give me a chance to explain.’
This was true. Barbie realised that, for her sense of justice was acute. The idea that she was not playing fair disturbed her. Perhaps there had been some mistake. Perhaps he had sent a message and it had gone astray … but how difficult it would be to explain! She had met him at a wedding and asked him to tea and he had not come – that was all. How could she explain without making far too much of the incident? The mere idea of trying to explain made her go hot all over. She saw now how trivial it was and what a fool she was to be so angry (my red-haired temper, thought Barbie regretfully); she realised, also, that if she had not liked the man so much she would not have cared a jot whether he came or stayed away; but that did not make it any easier to explain.
‘Perhaps I ought to have written to you –’ began Henry Buckland after a short silence. ‘I mean written and congratulated you.’
‘Congratulated me!’
‘Yes, Steyne told me about your engagement that day at the club.’
Barbie was so surprised that she could not think what to say, and before she could collect her thoughts the door opened and Mrs Scott came in.
/> ‘Henry!’ she exclaimed. ‘I thought you’d gone to the moor with Alec – and then I saw your cap on the table. What’s happened?’
‘Nothing,’ he replied hastily. ‘I just – somehow – didn’t feel like shooting – so I came back.’
‘Are you ill?’
‘Why should I be ill?’
‘Perhaps you’ve got a touch of your old malaria,’ suggested Mrs Scott looking at her brother anxiously. She added, ‘Yes, you look a bit feverish. You had better go straight to bed.’
‘For goodness’ sake don’t fuss! Can’t a fellow decide not to shoot without being ill!’
‘Not if the fellow is you.’
‘Well, I did,’ declared Henry. ‘I’m perfectly well – no signs of “my old malaria” as you call it – but I just decided not to shoot.’
‘You haven’t quarrelled with Alec – or anything?’
‘What an ass you are, Jennifer! Have you ever known us quarrel?’
Mrs Scott did not reply. She was cross with Henry, for she disliked having her plans upset. The two men had been despatched to the moor with sandwiches and she had not expected to see them again until tea-time – or after. She had arranged a very light luncheon for herself and Miss France and Bet. It was quite an unsuitable repast for a man … but it was no good explaining this to Henry. Here was Henry, which meant that they would have to use the cold roast intended for tomorrow.
Barbie had tried not to listen to the argument and was getting on with the job of measuring the window, but she could not help hearing and she could not help being amused. The two were so like each other that nobody could have failed to see they were brother and sister … and the argument could only have taken place between a brother and sister. Later she was to discover that these two were for ever arguing about something but in spite of this they were extremely fond of each other.
‘Oh, Miss France!’ exclaimed Mrs Scott. ‘I don’t want new curtains here. We never use this room.’
‘I know,’ agreed Barbie. ‘It was just an idea. You said you wanted ideas for labour-saving, and I thought you might shut up the drawing-room for the winter. This room would make a delightful sitting-room.’
‘I don’t think –’
‘Yes, really,’ said Barbie earnestly. She came down the ladder and proceeded to explain her plans for the transformation of the ‘Cinderella-room’ into a charming, cosy, comfortable sitting-room for the use of the Scott family. It was the real secret of Barbie’s success in Garfield’s that she could imagine a room transformed and not only see it herself but make other people see it. (Mr Garfield was always saying ‘you can put it across.’) In this particular case she was so enthusiastic and therefore so eloquent that Mrs Scott’s doubts vanished completely and she became quite as keen on the idea as Barbie could have wished.
‘A blue carpet –’ began Mrs Scott.
‘Or cherry-coloured,’ suggested Barbie. ‘Somehow I see it as cherry – so cosy and cheerful – and the walls broken-white with a few good pictures from some of the other rooms – and of course there’s lots of furniture to choose from. We can collect what we want from the other rooms and see how it fits in and then have it covered to match. That’s how to do it.’
Mrs Scott agreed eagerly and the two began to discuss colours and patterns and whether the fireplace should have new tiles … Henry Buckland saw that any further private conversation was out of the question and drifted away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Barbie had been too interested in explaining her plans to think about anything else and it was not until she went upstairs to get ready for lunch that she remembered her conversation with Commander Buckland. It had been interrupted at just the wrong moment. He had said, ‘Steyne told me about your engagement that day at the club.’
What ‘day at the club,’ wondered Barbie. She was sure that Edward had not been to the club during the two days at Underwoods (the two days between Aunt Amalie’s birthday, when she and Edward had become engaged, and the frightful day when Edward had driven her up to town and she had broken it off). Barbie remembered those two days distinctly. Edward had spent the whole of Saturday in the garden putting up the espalier; on Sunday morning they had all gone to church, and on Sunday afternoon they had lazed in the garden and talked about their plans … so when had Edward seen Commander Buckland?
Was Edward still under the impression that they were engaged – and going about telling everybody? If so she would have to write to Edward and make it quite clear that she was not going to marry him. She thought she had made it clear – indeed it was difficult to see how she could have made it clearer – but, knowing Edward, she realised that he was used to getting his own way so perhaps he thought he would be able to persuade her to change her mind.
As she dried her hands on the beautifully soft linen towel with the large red S in the corner Barbie decided that she would have to write to Edward, but first she must find out from Commander Buckland what ‘day at the club’ he meant.
Unfortunately this plan was difficult to carry out for there was no chance of private conversation. The four of them sat down to lunch in the dining-room and Barbie revealed her idea about the walls.
‘Panelling! That would be lovely!’ exclaimed Mrs Scott.
Commander Buckland rose and tapped the wall. ‘I believe you’re right,’ he said. ‘It sounds like wood underneath.’ He smiled and added, ‘So that was why you were tapping!’
‘That was why,’ agreed Barbie and smiled back at him; she had ceased to be angry with the man.
‘How can we find out?’ asked Mrs Scott.
‘Only by stripping, I’m afraid,’ replied Barbie. ‘But it wouldn’t show if we did it behind the book-case.’
‘We’ll do it directly after lunch,’ said Mrs Scott. ‘I can’t wait to see if it’s really panelling. Jardine can help us to move the book-case.’
Of course Bet wanted to know what panelling was, and Barbie explained. She warned her hearers that although it was certainly wood beneath the paper it might not be in good condition or suitable for renovation. Mrs Scott repeated that she ‘couldn’t wait to see’ so the moment they had swallowed the last mouthfuls of their meal Jardine was summoned and the book-case was moved. Barbie fetched her stripping knife and proceeded to peel off the paper while the others looked on. There were several layers of paper – all quite hideous – but at last the wood was revealed.
‘It’s oak,’ cried Barbie joyfully. ‘Beautiful oak panelling … but it will be a big job to have it stripped and the wood treated. Rather expensive, I’m afraid.’
‘We must have it done,’ declared Mrs Scott. ‘I’m sure Alec will agree – even if we have to economise in other ways. Don’t you think so, Henry?’
Henry nodded. ‘Fancy putting hideous paper over oak panelling! I wonder which of Alec’s forebears was responsible for the frightful deed.’
‘You’d be surprised how many people did,’ said Barbie laughing. ‘At one time it was the fashion to cover up everything.’
The afternoon passed quickly. Mrs Scott and her brother were too busy, and too interested in what they were doing, to argue with each other; they crawled about on their hands and knees with a measuring tape while Barbie made notes. Henry was especially helpful, and Barbie was grateful, for without him the job would have taken twice as long to do. Of course there was no opportunity for asking him about ‘that day at the club,’ but on one occasion when Mrs Scott was called away to speak on the telephone he looked up at Barbie from the floor where he was kneeling and said, ‘Have you still got the little gold bell?’
The little gold bell was still on her bracelet. Several times she had very nearly taken it off (the little gold bell was a reminder of the tall stranger who had made a fool of her) and then she had changed her mind. It seemed silly to take it off. Why should she remove the pretty little charm from her bracelet just because of him? Now she was glad that she had not removed it for she was no longer angry. There must have been some mistake
.
‘Yes, there it is,’ said Barbie holding out her hand.
She noticed, as she held it out, that the hand was extremely dirty but that could not be helped. Henry’s hands were every bit as dirty.
Henry took her hand and looked at the charm. He said, ‘You’re not wearing a ring.’
‘I’m not engaged,’ said Barbie. ‘Not to Edward or anyone else.’
‘Oh, good,’ said Henry in cheerful tones.
There was no time to say more. Jardine came in and informed them that tea was ready in the drawing-room.
‘The Colonel’s back and Mrs Scott is waiting for you,’ added Jardine.
‘I must wash my hands,’ said Barbie and ran upstairs.
It took Barbie all next day to go over the rooms and measure them for curtains and covers; Mrs Scott helped off and on, but the men were shooting with Mr Delaney so Henry was not available. It was Bet who became her chief assistant; following her round, holding one end of the measuring-tape and running to fetch pattern-books or whatever she happened to want. After a little instruction Bet was extremely useful, for her intelligence was well above average – inded Barbie had often coped with grown-up assistants who were much less intelligent than the seven-year-old child.
‘Couldn’t you stay here, Miss France?’ asked Bet. ‘I mean you won’t have to go back to London when you’ve finished the work, will you?’
‘I’m afraid I must,’ replied Barbie, smiling. ‘I’ve got other work to do.’
‘You could work here,’ said Bet earnestly. ‘You could teach me my lessons instead of Miss Robinson and then I would have you all the time. Please do, darling Miss France. I would be frightfully good and we could have such fun together. I know Daddy would do it if I asked him.’
Barbie was pleased – and touched – but she explained that her job at Garfield’s was important and she could not give it up all of a sudden to come to Oddam Castle.
The Tall Stranger Page 16