"He's doing a model of Dark Queen for me," said Bets proudly. "It's going to be exactly like her, even to the little ring of pale cream hairs in her dark-brown tail. Luke is going to paint the model for me, blue eyes and all."
Luke finished the wooden carving of Dark Queen, the Siamese cat, two days later. The children heard his now familiar whistle over the wall, and crowded there to see what he wanted. Luke handed over the cat-model.
It was really excellent Even Fatty, who fancied himself very much at all kinds of art work, was very much impressed.
He handled the little model admiringly. "Fine, Luke," he said. "You've got the colouring marvellously too." "How's old Tupping these days?" asked Pip. "Awful," said Luke. "I wish I hadn't got to work for him. He's that bad-tempered. I'm always afraid of him complaining about me to my stepfather too. I'd get a good thrashing if he did. My stepfather doesn't like me."
The five children were sorry for Luke. He didn't seem to have much of a life. He was a kindly, generous fellow, always ready to do anything he could for them. He loved little Bets, and stuck up for her when Pip teased her, as he often did.
Buster adored Luke. "He's grateful to you for saving him from Tupping!" said Fatty, watching Buster trying to climb up Luke's legs, panting with delight.
"He's a nice little dog," said Luke. "I like dogs. Always did. I like them cats too. Beautiful things, aren't they?"
"We saw someone else in your garden today," said Larry. "A middle-aged lady, very thin, with a rather red nose, glasses that kept falling off, and a funny little bun of hair at the back of her neck. Who is she? That's not Lady Candling, is it?"
"Oh no," said Luke. "That's her companion, Miss Trimble. Miss Tremble I call her, to myself — she's that scared of old Tupping! She has to do the flowers for the house, you see; and if she goes out and picks them when Tupping is there, he follows her around like a dog ready to bite her, and says, 'If you pick any more of them roses, that'll spoil the tree!' 'If you take them poppies of mine they'll fall to bits — you shouldn't ought to pick them in the sun.' Things like that. The poor old thing trembles and shakes, and I feel right-down sorry for her."
"Everyone seems afraid of Tupping," said Daisy. "Horrid fellow. I hope he gets a punishment one day for being so hateful. But I bet he won't."