A black kitten was responsible for introducing Pamela to Elizabeth Bagg. Pamela found the kitten crying in a field—a soft, purry, rather frightened little kitten, that had lost its way. Pamela picked it up, and made inquiries about it in the village. No one seemed to own it, nor recognize it, at first; and then Aggie Jones, who was leaning out of her door as usual, said she believed it belonged to the Baggs.
So Pamela went up the little lane by the blacksmith's to inquire. She soon became aware of the vicinity of 'Alice Maud Villa.' As she walked along the lane her ears caught the sound of laughter and the shouting of children's voices, which proceeded from a small house on the right-hand side; also Pamela's nose informed her that a delicious smell of boiling toffee came from the same quarter. Then she came to the house, and saw the name painted over the doorway. It was a very clean-looking little house, with brightly polished door-knocker and letter-box, and the curtains were fresh and dainty.
Pamela knocked several times before anyone heard her, the noise inside the house being so great. Then the door was flung open and a swarm of little Baggs and a strong smell of cooked toffee came out to greet her.
The return of the kitten was hailed with joy, and Pamela, though glad to find its home, watched anxiously to see that the children did not pull the kitten about nor tease it. Pamela was very fond of animals, and had found the absence of a cat or a dog at Chequertrees very strange. She watched the little black kitten, and saw that it did not seem at all afraid of the children, and that, on the other hand, the children handled it very carefully, in the way that only children who have a real love for animals can handle a kitten. Pamela was relieved to notice this; she knew too many cases where a kitten had been thoughtlessly kept "for the children to play with," a practice she thought most bad for the children, who were not taught to treat animals kindly, and most cruel for the little teased kittens. However, there was nothing to worry over in this case, and when, a moment later, Elizabeth Bagg, in a holland overall, appeared in the doorway, Pamela, glancing at her pale, strong face, felt she understood why the children behaved gently to the kitten. There would be no thoughtless cruelty in the house Elizabeth Bagg ruled over.
She had a kindly face, with clear grey eyes and a frank expression. It was strange that with such different features, and with so pale a complexion, she yet had a strong resemblance to her ruddy-faced brother, the cabman. Her voice and manners, though, were entirely unlike his. Her hair, which was jet black, was parted in the centre and brushed smoothly down each side of her face, and coiled in one thick plait round her head; it was a quaint style, rather severe, but it suited Elizabeth Bagg.
Pamela explained about the kitten, and then introduced herself, mentioning that she was staying at Chequertrees, and then, as was her usual way, plunged straight to the point that interested her most.
"I have been wanting very much to meet you," Pamela said, "because I hear that you are an artist. I do a little sketching myself, and I'm awfully interested in anyone who paints. Would you—would you think it very impertinent on my part if I asked to see some of your pictures. I should love to, if you don't mind—but only when it suits you, of course—not now, if you're busy."
A faint pink had crept into Elizabeth Bagg's cheeks.
"I should be pleased to show you some of my work," she said courteously. She spoke in a queer, stiff little way, so that until one knew her it was hard to understand exactly how she felt about anything.
Pamela, for instance, was not at all sure whether Elizabeth Bagg was pleased by her request or resented it. Whereas Elizabeth Bagg was really more astonished than anything else, though certainly pleased.