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Put together the worst of the typical horrors and you'll have a fair idea of it. Murder, outrage, torture: Scharlach's programme seemed to be fairly comprehensive. She ended off by saying: "His orderly showed me a silver-mounted flute he always travelled with, and a beautiful paint-box mounted in silver too. Before he left he sat down on my door-step and made a painting of the ruins...."
"Wouldn't I? Well, I don't know what I should have done when I was a little girl like you. I dare say, though, that I should have felt just as you do have done just as you, I see, are going to do now." "Bought the paint-box!" cried Polly. "Yes, bought the paint-box," laughed the lady. Polly beamed with smiles, and gave a rapturous look at the treasure that was so soon to be hers.
It was all right, because H. O.'s paint-box is the French kind, with Couleurs non Veneneuses on it. This means you may suck your brushes if you want to, or even your paints if you are a very little boy. It was rather jolly while Noel had that cold.
Every room was of a different hue, with furniture and hangings to match. The drawing-room was pink, the dining-room green, her bedroom blue, the entrance hall yellow, and the extra sleeping apartment used by her companion, Miss Stably, was draped in purple. Some wit called the flat "the paint-box," and indeed so varied were its hues that it was not a bad title to give it.
It was "no go," however. The appeal, though listened to, and commented on, showing that it was well understood, got no direct reply. It was not my policy to make our object appear too important to ourselves, so I had to appear tolerably indifferent, and took the opportunity to ask for my paint-box, which he had borrowed for a day and had kept in his possession for months.
She had been threatened with Bogy for misbehavior in church, and it was startling to find that he sat so near. She changed the subject, under a hasty remembrance of having once made a face at the parson through a hole in the bombazine curtains. "Why don't you paint with paints, Bogy?" said she. "I haven't got none, Miss," said Jan. "I've got a paint-box," said Amabel.
But to-day it has been raining all day. Such a bore. I forgot to bring my paint-box and I'm not allowed to read all day. Mother says, if you gobble all your books up now you'll have nothing left to read. That's quite true, but I can't even go and swing. Afternoon. I must write some more. I've had a frightful row with Dora. She says I've been fiddling with her things.
Lady Craikshaw had cruelly warned Lady Adelaide that Amabel sometimes told stories, and, thinking that the child was romancing, Lady Adelaide tried to change the subject. But D'Arcy cried, "Oh, do let her talk, mamma. I do so like her. She is such fun!" "You oughtn't to laugh at me," said poor Amabel, as D'Arcy took her into the dining-room, "I gave you my paint-box."
Besides, a mere apology is not enough. You must make some kind of atonement. The first thing for you to do, however, is to get some turpentine and remove that paint. Where did you get it, boys?" "Out of your paint-box, Aunt Allison," said Malcolm. "We didn't think you would care. I was only going to take a little, but it soaked in so fast that I had to use two tubes of it."
Why, a heap of red and white roses lying on the breakfast table, a big heap, with odd corners and points sticking up all over it, and under the roses a white napkin, and under the napkin treasures of all sorts a book from father, a little work-box from mother, with a picture of Windermere on the outside, and inside the most delightful cottons and needles and bits of bright-coloured stuffs; a china doll's dinner-service from Aunt Emma, a mug from nurse, a little dish full of big red strawberries from gardener, and last, but not least, Olly's present a black paint-box, with colours and brushes and all complete, and tied up with a little drawing-book which mother had added to make it really useful.
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