Miss Pat at School Part 26

Mrs. Sh.e.l.ly nodded briskly. "And I'll come sit with you while you're getting ready," she promised, patting Judith's hand. "We can have some good talks together then, and I'll remember more stories for you, too."

Much to Judith's delight she kissed them all around, and then she hustled off after Miss Jinny, leaving them to themselves in the big, comfortable room.

Patricia flung herself on the fur rug that lay before the empty fireplace.

"I don't feel as if I'd ever want to go to sleep," she said rapturously. "It seems like a glorious dream that we're going to live in this romantic place a whole month. Bruce is a perfect duck to fix it up so we can all be together. I shan't study much here, I feel that in my bones, but I'll have a gorgeous time. How do you feel about it, Judy?"

Judith sat with one stocking in her hand, dreaming, and she awoke with a start.

"I'm going to _write_!" she declared, dramatically waving the stocking about. "This is truly inspiring!"

Patricia gave a short laugh. "Did it ever occur to you that our little Judy might make a fair actress, Norn?" she asked, deftly catching the bare foot that supported Judith and bringing her down on the rug beside her. "Her pa.s.sion for the limelight grows, I notice, and recent events have not tended to make her unmindful of her merits."

"Oh, stop teasing, Miss Pat," cried Judith, wriggling free. "I wouldn't be an actress if you'd hire me. I'm going to be a writer, and now I'm going to bed. Good-night," and she made a flying leap into her pillows and covered herself to the eyes. "Don't say another word to me tonight," she warned, "or I'll call Miss Jinny. I'm going to sleep."

Patricia yawned and rose. "I guess I'll follow her virtuous example.

I'm really getting awfully drowsy, now it's so quiet," she confessed.

Elinor was already half asleep when Patricia suddenly sat up with a mirthful gurgle.

"What fun it'll be to tell the gang at the Academy," she crowed.

"Won't Griffin rejoice and won't Doris Leighton wish she'd been good!

Margaret Howes will have a chance to meet Bruce, too. It'll be a perfect lark all around!"

Elinor sighed in deep content.

"Maybe Bruce will let Margaret work with me sometimes," she murmured joyfully. "I know he's going to like Griffin tremendously; she's just the sort to fit in with us all. Miss Jinny's crazy over her. I don't believe we'll see poor Doris Leighton again. Griffin told me she was leaving."

Patricia cuddled down in the pillows again, with a chuckle.

"Miss Jinny told me that Mr. Spicer had asked us all to tea at the Science and Arts Club," she said. "The Haldens are coming in for Easter and all the other holidays, and we're going to simply revel in delightful doings right here in the studio. It's a dream of goodly revelry, Norn, isn't it?" "It means more than that to me," replied Elinor. "It means work--glorious, big, beautiful work----"

"Do you know," interrupted Patricia, suddenly alert again, "I don't believe I'll ever amount to a row of pins as an artist? I always forget the work and think only of the _people_ and the fun. I wonder if I can't brace up and do something worth while. I'll start in tomorrow--see if I don't."

CHAPTER XV

AFTERNOON TEA

The days slipped by with wonderful swiftness after the trunks had been unpacked and things had settled down to the regular routine. Patricia wondered at the evenness of their minds and the serenity of their hearts in those first three weeks of studio life.

"Everything goes so smoothly," she confided to Miss Jinny one day at the end of the fortnight. "It sounds monotonous, but I don't mean it that way at all. We're all so _naturally_ polite and agreeable. We don't seem to have to force ourselves a bit."

"That's because we've each of us got something to do," declared Miss Jinny emphatically. "If we were idling around, musing on ourselves from morning till night like some poor creatures do, we'd get p.r.i.c.kly mighty soon. People were made to work, and it's flying in the face of Providence to try to get away from it. We all got our share in the curse of Adam, and the sooner we realize it, the better for us."

Patricia played with the handle of the great glittering bra.s.s amphora that stood by the low stool where she sat. Her face was puzzled though not disquiet.

"I wonder just what my work will turn out to be?" she said thoughtfully. "I'm beginning to be afraid I haven't any real work of my own. I've tried so hard to get on with the modeling--for I do love it--but it just seems as though I couldn't. That first head that they liked so much, and the study of Ju is about all the sculpture I've got in my system, I reckon. I'm downright ashamed to let them know----"

"You needn't be," declared Miss Jinny vigorously. "You never pretended you were in it for anything but sport, did you? Bruce knows you're about through with it; I heard him say so to Elinor yesterday."

"Oh, did he though?" cried Patricia, kindling. "How clever of him to see. I thought no one _dreamed_!"

Miss Jinny chuckled. "We knew you were only marking time till you stepped off into your music," she said encouragingly. "It was nice, of course, that you got along so well, but no one expected you to take to it for good and all."

Patricia sighed contentedly. "How nice you all are!" she said appreciatively. "I thought you'd all be disgusted with me if I quit.

After Mr. Grantly said that study of Ju showed promise, I nearly wore myself to a bone trying to make good. I've been scared stiff about it."

"Don't you worry, Miss Pat. You'll find your own work all in good time. It mayn't be what you'd like it to, but it'll be something that you can do better than any one else," said Miss Jinny with kind wisdom.

"Look at me. I'm sure that books and catalogues is my forte, but the Lord knows better. He's given me the sense to see it, too, and so mama is comfortable and happy and someone else who hasn't a dear mother depending on her does the library work in my place."

"You're a darling," said Patricia, "and the Lord must be terribly fond of you."

"Patricia Louise Kendall! That's sacrilege!" gasped the scandalized Miss Jinny.

"Is it?" exclaimed Patricia, equally startled. "I didn't know it was.

Mr. Spicer said it himself yesterday when he was talking to me in the print room, and I was telling him about your poor basket and saving bank, and all that. I'm awfully sorry, Miss Jinny."

Miss Jinny had a queer look, Patricia thought, as she turned hurriedly away with a murmured excuse about the tea table.

"Why, it's all ready," cried Patricia wondering at her changed manner.

"We put the sliced lemon on the very last thing."

But Miss Jinny was not to be diverted into talk again, and as she started out of the studio the bell came to her aid, buzzing shrilly an insistent summons to the door.

"That's Griffin; I know her ring!" cried Patricia jumping up. "I'll go."

Griffin it was, in the highest good humor and bursting with news. She did not wait to get out of her coat before she began to unbosom herself to them both, alternately addressing each in turn.

"Kendall Major's missed it, I tell you, going off to that poky architectural show," she declared to Miss Jinny. "We had the time of our lives today in life cla.s.s. Benton's up in the air because Howes showed him that Ascension study she did over here--you know he never could bear Haydon or his work--and he was as mad as hops that he should be b.u.t.ting in with any of his own special pets like Howes."

"How mean!" cried Patricia spiritedly. "Bruce hasn't even seen that study. What did he say about it?"

"Oh, he couldn't _say_ anything right out," replied Griffin knowingly, "but he made it hot for us, I tell you. Poor old Bottle Green caught it first, for painting before he'd given her permission, and then he jumped on me for not painting. Radford caught it and then he lit on Slovinski for using the Whistler palette, and she just _blew up_!

These Poles aren't like us tame tabbies, you know, and she's full of ginger, for all her sleepy ways. She's terribly high-born, you know, and can't bear anyone to look cross-eyed at her."

"What did she do?" asked Patricia eagerly.

"Slammed him good and hard," returned Griffin succinctly. "Told him he was fifteen different sorts of a lobster."

"Oh, do talk English, Griffie dear," begged Patricia, laughing. "Miss Jinny doesn't understand your Choctaw speech."

"Well then, she rebuked him thoroughly for his variable though severe criticisms, and stated, with some emotion, that the Board should be enlightened as to his unfitness, through his captious temper, for the delicate task of nouris.h.i.+ng the tender sensibilities of the budding artist."

"My word, she wasn't shy, was she?" interpolated Patricia, much diverted.

"Not she," declared Griffin. "We were all in a blue fit. Not that we old stagers are sorry for the man, but it shocked our sense of what's due him as a teacher. I was fearfully ashamed of Slovinski, but it _was_ fun to see how astounded he looked. He just stood looking at her more quietly than I'd ever seen him look at any one, and then he bowed and asked her if she'd quite finished. Jiminy, but he was polite! We all got a chill. Slovinski sat down, and we took to work again.