CHAPTER IX
ISOBEL MAKES TROUBLE
Pamela had just finished her sketch, and had begun to be aware that a chilly breeze was blowing down her neck, and that her hands were cold, when the sound of voices came floating toward her; she suddenly realized that it must have been a long time ago when the other girls had left her. And then she heard Isobel's voice exclaiming:
"Why, she's still here! Good gracious, Pamela, you don't mean to say you're still drawing those old bits of wood and bricks! ... Well!" The voice ended on a note of despair that was meant to signify Isobel's conviction that Pamela was qualifying for an asylum. "You must be frightfully hungry," Isobel continued, as the three girls came up to Pamela.
Then it was that Pamela woke up to the fact that she was hungry—very hungry, and very glad of the sandwiches which Beryl now produced and handed over to her.
"I say, that was thoughtful of you. Thanks so much," she smiled at Beryl.
"Did you finish your sketch? May I see it?" asked Beryl shyly.
Pamela brought the drawing out. "But I'm not a bit satisfied with it," she said.
"Oh, I think it's splendid," said Beryl, gazing admiringly at Pamela's picture of the old windmill and the pond.
It was certainly well done; Pamela's style was uncommon, and her treatment of the subject bold and decided. She had talent, undoubtedly, but how far this talent would take her, time alone would show. Pamela was very ambitious, but very critical of her own work, and though full of enthusiasm over a picture while at work upon it, was rarely satisfied with it when finished, which was a very good thing, as it always spurred her on to try to do better. However, Beryl, who was no judge of pictures, thought Pamela's sketch was perfect.