When the last day at the beach came, Henry said, “Let’s telephone and ask Grandfather to come down for our last beach picnic.”
“He can meet our new friends—Mr. Lee, Miss Lane, and Miss Smith,” said Benny.
“And Miss Lane has finished the picture,” said Violet.
Jessie said, “We’ll have a picnic for everyone. I’m sure the ladies will enjoy it.”
Mr. Alden said he would be delighted to drive the station wagon down to the picnic. Benny and Violet could drive back with him, and Henry and Jessie could come in the blue car.
Jessie took charge of getting ready. She said, “You boys really sweep out the living room for Aunt Jane and Uncle Andy. We want to leave their trailer as clean as we found it. Violet can dust, and I’ll make sandwiches.”
Everyone bustled around. It did not take long to get everything in perfect order.
Jessie said, “We’ll put four chairs under the beach umbrella. We’ll use the table, too. Grandfather hates to hold a cup and saucer and a knife and fork and eat at the same time.”
“So do I,” Benny said.
“Well then, you sit up at the table, too,” replied Jessie. “We want everyone to be comfortable.”
Just then the station wagon pulled up behind the trailer. “Anybody home?” called a familiar voice.
“Grandfather!” cried Violet, “Come in.”
At almost the same moment, a voice from the beach called, “Are you expecting visitors?”
“Oh, Mr. Lee, come in,” Jessie said. “Grandfather just came, too.”
“Hi, Dan!” Mr.Alden said.
“Hi, James,” answered Mr. Lee, smiling.
“Do you two know each other?” asked Benny, very much surprised.
“Well, I should say we do,” replied Mr. Alden. “Dan and I have been friends in New York for many years. He knows all about you, and he enjoyed becoming acquainted.”
“Did you ask him to keep an eye on us?” demanded Benny.
“I did not. I always trust you to manage your own affairs and to come to the right person if you have any trouble.”
“It’s all my fault,” said Mr. Lee. “I couldn’t keep away. Every day I looked forward to coming down to visit. It was a pleasure and I am delighted it all turned out so well.”
“Couldn’t have been better,” said Grandfather.
“Yes, I can think of a way it might be even better,” said Mr. Lee, taking his usual chair. Looking at Mr. Alden he laughed and said, “This is my chair, James.”
“Yes, and this is mine. No sitting down on the sand for me. I might get down, but I don’t know how I would get up again.”
“I know,” said Benny. “Henry and I would pull you up, that’s what.”
“I have no doubt of that,” said Mr. Alden, and he looked off at the blue water. “And now what was your idea, Dan?”
Mr. Lee answered at once, “Ruth Lane is a good artist. Her paintings are sold all over New York. A great many people come here in the summer, and many of them must like Ruth Lane’s pictures of cats. I think Ruth Lane should have an art exhibit here in Beachwood.”
“That’s an interesting idea,” said Mr. Alden. “How did you know Miss Lane was here when no one else did?”
“Well, I have been coming here for a long time,” answered Mr. Lee. “I heard Miss Lane was living and working somewhere near here. I guessed she was in the old family home, the Tower House. But I knew she never welcomed people. People never saw her, just her friend and housekeeper, Miss Smith.”
“How did you find Miss Lane really did live in the Tower House?” Benny asked.
“Well, I thought the ladies had to go outdoors sometimes just for a change from the house. I found they liked long walks on the beach at night. I thought if I followed them, Miss Lane might possibly talk to me. But she wouldn’t.”
Violet said, “Miss Lane knew who you were. And I think she was rather pleased you were following her.”
Grandfather said, “To go back to the matter of the art exhibit. Do you think Miss Lane would like that? The children seem to think she is shy.”
“She is shy. But I think your grandchildren have helped her see that people are friendly if you only give them a chance.”
Benny said, “Miss Lane and Miss Smith know a lot of things that aren’t true have been said about them in Beachwood. Kids say an old witch with a hundred cats lives in the Tower House. One boy even broke a window just for the fun of it.”
“That’s true,” Mr. Lee said.
“Miss Lane may be shy,” Violet added, “but she knows she is a good painter.”
“She sells her pictures, all right,” said Mr. Lee. “I should think she would agree to an exhibit. But there is another reason why I think she would be delighted.”
“And what is that?” asked Mr. Alden.
“Suppose I told her that the money the exhibit earns would be used for a shelter for stray cats? That is the kind of thing she would like very much.”
“That is the best idea!” said Jessie. “I’m sure she will think it is a fine idea, too. But I didn’t know she had enough pictures for an exhibit.”
“She has,” said Mr. Lee. “There are dozens in New York. Then, James, I think if you asked, some people would loan pictures they have already bought. This could be a very interesting exhibit.”
Violet said, “I think Miss Lane would want to show the picture she painted of Ali and me.”
“And that would help everyone in Beachwood understand Miss Lane better,” Benny said.
“I think so, too,” agreed Jessie.
“Well, I guess Henry can go for the ladies now,” said Mr. Lee.
“He’s already gone,” Jessie told him.
When the blue car arrived, Miss Lane was carrying a basket. She said, “I brought a present for Violet.” Then suddenly she saw Mr. Lee. She said in a low voice, “Hello, Dan. We haven’t met for many years.”
“But now we are neighbors,” said Mr. Lee, “and I hope we’ll meet often. What is in the basket? It seems to be something alive.”
“It is,” replied Miss Lane. “You see, Violet was willing to let me paint her picture.”
Violet looked at the basket—it moved a trifle.
Miss Lane opened the basket and drew out a kitten—a perfectly white kitten with long, soft fur, blue eyes, and a look like a puffball.
“Oh, you lovely little thing!” cried Violet, her eyes shining. “May I hold him?”
Miss Lane set the kitten down on the sand. He sat there with his small tail out straight behind him. Violet took the tiny tail and curled it around him. The little cat instantly uncurled it and curled it up again, just exactly the way Violet had placed it.
“Look at that,” Benny said. “He wants to do it himself.”
Violet replied, “That’s like all cats. I ought to have remembered. I am so used to dogs now.”
Then the little puffball began to climb up the front of Violet’s blouse. His tiny claws were like needles.
Violet pulled him off, but he went right up again. He seemed to know he was Violet’s cat, just as old Watch knew he was Jessie’s dog.
“What’s his name?” asked Benny. “Or hasn’t he a name yet?”
Miss Lane answered, “Yes, his name is Sugar Cookie. He’s a registered cat. His mother is Bluebell the Third and his grandmother was White Clover the Second.”
Violet pulled a blue string across the sand. The kitten followed it like a little wild tiger, biting it and tossing it in the air. Every motion was beautiful.
Miss Lane watched the kitten so closely that everyone began to watch Miss Lane. She saw the kitten’s motions just as she would paint them.
“There is a second present, and it is for Mr. Alden,” said Miss Lane. She took the paper off Violet’s portrait. It was a lovely thing, and it looked exactly like Violet.
Mr. Alden was delighted. He kept looking from the picture to the slender girl and back again. He was wondering if Miss Lane would like the idea of an exhibit.
“Sugar Cookie, let’s eat,” said Benny. “How would you like some warm milk?”
Jessie went in to warm some milk, and Miss Lane sniffed the air. “That coffee smells good,” she said.
Benny and Henry brought out plates of sandwiches and the pickles and cups for the hot coffee. For a few minutes it was busy and then it was very quiet as everyone began to eat.
After his second sandwich, Grandfather looked at Mr. Lee and raised his eyebrows in a question. Mr. Lee nodded.
Mr. Alden began very slowly. “Miss Lane, we have an idea for you and for everyone interested in pictures—and in stray cats, too.”
At this last word, Miss Lane looked up at Mr. Alden. She was most interested in the word cats, stray cats.
Then Mr. Alden explained about the idea of a shelter for cats, a place where stray cats could be kept until good homes were found for them.
“I’d be very much interested in that,” said Miss Lane. “But there must be a catch somewhere.”
“There is!” exclaimed Benny. “You’re smart, Miss Lane.”
“It isn’t really a catch,” explained Mr. Lee. “Of course we must raise money to run such a shelter. You could give a one-man show with nothing but your own paintings. There’d be a small admission charge. The money would go to the shelter. Perhaps people who like cats would come.”
“Perhaps people who like paintings but don’t care for cats would come,” Jessie added.
“You are all very clever,” said Miss Lane, nodding. “You all know my weak spot. I may agree to this plan.”
“Oh, I wish you would!” said Violet.
Sugar Cookie was tired out. He had gone to sleep in Violet’s lap, one paw still around the blue string.
“If you wish me to, I will,” said Miss Lane. “Your portrait is the best one I have ever done. Do you mind having it shown?”
Violet said, “No, I don’t mind. I should think I might, but I don’t.”
Benny said, “I wouldn’t mind, but I’m surprised at Violet. Usually she minds things like that.”
The sandwiches were fast disappearing. The hardboiled eggs were all gone. The pickles were gone.
After the cookies were gone, Mr. Lee said good-bye. Grandfather watched him as he walked down the beach. He did not have Richard with him or his metal-finder.
Grandfather said, “Dan is exactly like me.”
“Oh, no, Grandfather,” said Violet, “not just exactly!”
“He thinks the way I do,” said Grandfather. “He wants to get things done, quick, right off. He doesn’t waste any time. You mark my words, he already has the whole art show planned. He knows exactly the people he will invite to help. And I am sure he has a place picked out for the animal shelter, too, and maybe a manager in mind. He probably wants you, Miss Lane, to paint a special picture to help advertise the center.”
“I will, you know,” Miss Lane said. “And now Mary and I must go. I know you all want to start for home. And I have to tell Bluebell why I took her kitten away. She has another, anyway, so she won’t mind too much.”
The Aldens left Grandfather sitting in his chair while they took the two ladies home. They wanted to say good-bye for now and to talk about other visits in the future.
Miss Lane had tears in her eyes when she said good-bye to Violet. “You’ve helped me more than you know,” she said in a low voice.
“Don’t forget Ali had to run away so that Violet could get to know you,” Benny said.
They had to smile at that. Then the women disappeared into the tower.
Nobody spoke all the way back to the trailer until they saw Mr. Alden drawing a picture in the sand with his cane.
“I bet you have some ideas about the animal shelter,” called Benny.
“Right,” agreed Grandfather. “You come and get these chairs, Ben, and we’ll go home.”
The bags were soon ready. Jessie put the food that was left in a large basket to take home. They looked around the trailer home. It was all ready for Aunt Jane and Uncle Andy to enjoy again.
Grandfather, Benny, and Violet with her kitten went in the first car. Henry and Jessie followed in the blue car.
As they came near home, Violet said, “Now the most important thing is Watch. We simply cannot hurt his feelings. I’m sure he won’t like Sugar Cookie. We’ll have to think of some way to get him to like a kitten.”
Benny said, “Make him think the kitten is his idea. He will like it if he thinks Sugar Cookie is his kitten.”
Violet laughed. “How can we do that, Ben? You tell me.”
But Benny could not think of a way.
Sugar Cookie found a way himself. He didn’t know any better. He expected everyone to be his friend.
Watch was stretched out in the front hall. When he heard the cars stop, he stood up on his four feet and barked a welcome. He did not move. He was getting old.
The family came into the hall. Violet set the white kitten on the floor. In a second, Sugar Cookie ran to Watch, crying meow, me-ow in his baby voice. He had never seen a dog.
Watch had seen cats before, but never one like this. Sugar Cookie walked around Watch’s front paws, rubbing his head against the old dog. The kitten certainly liked him.
Watch lay down. The kitten, tired out, turned around three times and lay down between the dog’s front feet. Watch looked up at Violet as if to say, “Now I’ve got a friend of my own.”
Violet exclaimed, “Oh, Watch, you’ve changed, and I’m so glad.”
Mr. Alden laughed. He said, “This is a good end to a very pleasant adventure at the beach.”
“Not the end, Grandfather,” said Benny. “This is just the beginning of the end.” |