some short stories-第10部分

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Monarchs　had　figured。　　Without　going　into　the　question　of　what　HAD
been　looked　for；　I　had　to　face　the　fact　that　at　this　rate　I
shouldn't　get　the　other　books　to　do。　　I　hurled　myself　in　despair　on
Miss　ChurmI　put　her　through　all　her　paces。　　I　not　only　adopted
Oronte　publicly　as　my　hero；　but　one　morning　when　the　Major　looked
in　to　see　if　I　didn't　require　him　to　finish　a　Cheapside　figure　for
which　he　had　begun　to　sit　the　week　before；　I　told　him　I　had　changed
my　mindI'd　do　the　drawing　from　my　man。　　At　this　my　visitor　turned
pale　and　stood　looking　at　me。　　〃Is　HE　your　idea　of　an　English
gentleman？〃　he　asked。

I　was　disappointed；　I　was　nervous；　I　wanted　to　get　on　with　my　work；
so。　　I　replied　with　irritation：　　〃Oh　my　dear　MajorI　can't　be
ruined　for　YOU！〃

It　was　a　horrid　speech；　but　he　stood　another　momentafter　which；
without　a　word；　he　quitted　the　studio。　　I　drew　a　long　breath；　for　I
said　to　myself　that　I　shouldn't　see　him　again。　　I　hadn't　toldhim
definitely　that　I　was　in　danger　of　having　my　work　rejected；　but　I
was　vexed　at　his　not　having　felt　the　catastrophe　in　the　air；　read
with　me　the　moral　of　our　fruitless　collaboration；　the　lesson　that
in　the　deceptive　atmosphere　of　art　even　the　highest　respectability
may　fail　of　being　plastic。

I　didn't　owe　my　friends　money；　but　I　did　see　them　again。　　They
reappeared　together　three　days　later；　and；　given　all　the　other
facts；　there　was　something　tragic　in　that　one。　　It　was　a　clear
proof　they　could　find　nothing　else　in　life　to　do。　　They　had
threshed　the　matter　out　in　a　dismal　conferencethey　had　digested
the　bad　news　that　they　were　not　in　for　the　series。　　If　they　weren't
useful　to　me　even　for　the　Cheapside　their　function　seemed　difficult
to　determine；　and　I　could　only　judge　at　first　that　they　had　come；
forgivingly；　decorously；　to　take　a　last　leave。　　This　made　me
rejoice　in　secret　that　I　had　little　leisure　for　a　scene；　for　I　had
placed　both　my　other　models　in　position　together　and　I　was　pegging
away　at　a　drawing　from　which　I　hoped　to　derive　glory。　　It　had　been
suggested　by　the　passage　in　…which　Rutland　Ramsay；　drawing　up　a
chair　to　Artemisia's　piano…stool；　says　extraordinary　things　to　her
while　she　ostensibly　fingers　out　a　difficult　piece　of　music。　　I　had
done　Miss　Churm　at　the　piano　beforeit　was　an　attitude　in　which
she　knew　how　to　take　on　an　absolutely　poetic　grace。　　I　wished　the
two　figures　to　〃compose〃　together　with　intensity；　and　my　little
Italian　had　entered　perfectly　into　my　conception。　　The　pair　were
vividly　before　me；　the　piano　had　been　pulled　out；　it　was　a　charming
show　of　blended　youth　and　murmured　love；　which　I　had　only　to　catch
and　keep。　　My　visitors　stood　and　looked　at　it；　and　I　was　friendly
to　them　over　my　shoulder。

They　made　no　response；　but　I　was　used　to　silent　company　and　went　on
with　my　work；　only　a　little　disconcertedeven　though　exhilarated
by　the　sense　that　this　was　at　least　the　ideal　thingat　not　having
got　rid　of　them　after　all。　　Presently　I　heard　Mrs。　Monarch's　sweet
voice　beside　or　rather　above　me：　　〃I　wish　her　hair　were　a　little
better　done。〃　　I　looked　up　and　she　was　staring　with　a　strange
fixedness　at　Miss　Churm；　whose　back　was　turned　to　her。　　〃Do　you
mind　my　just　touching　it？〃　she　went　ona　question　which　made　me
spring　up　for　an　instant　as　with　the　instinctive　fear　that　she
might　do　the　young　lady　a　harm。　　But　she　quieted　me　with　a　glance　I
shall　never　forgetI　confess　I　should　like　to　have　been　able　to
paint　thatand　went　for　a　moment　to　my　model。　　She　spoke　to　her
softly；　laying　a　hand　on　her　shoulder　and　bending　over　her；　and　as
the　girl；　understanding；　gratefully　assented；　she　disposed　her
rough　curls；　with　a　few　quick　passes；　in　such　a　way　as　to　make　Miss
Churm's　head　twice　as　charming。　　It　was　one　of　the　most　heroic
personal　services　I've　ever　seen　rendered。　　Then　Mrs。　Monarch
turned　away　with　a　low　sigh　and；　looking　about　her　as　if　for
something　to　do；　stooped　to　the　floor　with　a　noble　humility　and
picked　up　a　dirty　rag　that　had　dropped　out　of　my　paint…box。

The　Major　meanwhile　had　also　been　looking　for　something　to　do；　and；
wandering　to　the　other　end　of　the　studio；　saw　before　him　my
breakfast…things　neglected；　unremoved。　　〃I　say；　can't　I　be　useful
HERE？〃　he　called　out　to　me　with　an　irrepressible　quaver。　　I
assented　with　a　laugh　that　I　fear　was　awkward；　and　for　the　next　ten
minutes；　while　I　worked；　I　heard　the　light　clatter　of　china　and　the
tinkle　of　spoons　and　glass。　　Mrs。　Monarch　assisted　her　husband
they　washed　up　my　crockery；　they　put　it　away。　　They　wandered　off
into　my　little　scullery；　and　I　afterwards　found　that　they　had
cleaned　my　knives　and　that　my　slender　stock　of　plate　had　an
unprecedented　surface。　　When　it　came　over　me；　the　latent　eloquence
of　what　they　were　doing；　I　confess　that　my　drawing　was　blurred　for
a　momentthe　picture　swam。　　They　had　accepted　their　failure；　but
they　couldn't　accept　their　fate。　　They　had　bowed　their　heads　in
bewilderment　to　the　perverse　and　cruel　law　in　virtue　of　which　the
real　thing　could　be　so　much　less　precious　than　the　unreal；　but　they
didn't　want　to　starve。　　If　my　servants　were　my　models；　then　my
models　might　be　my　servants。　　They　would　reverse　the　partsthe
others　would　sit　for　the　ladies　and　gentlemen　and　THEY　would　do　the
work。　　They　would　still　be　in　the　studioit　was　an　intense　dumb
appeal　to　me　not　to　turn　them　out。　　〃Take　us　on；〃　they　wanted　to
say〃we'll　do　ANYTHING。〃

My　pencil　dropped　from　my　hand；　my　sitting　was　spoiled　and　I　got
rid　of　my　sitters；　who　were　also　evidently　rather　mystified　and
awestruck。　　Then；　alone　with　the　Major　and　his　wife　I　had　a　most
uncomfortable　moment。　　He　put　their　prayer　into　a　single　sentence：
〃I　say；　you　knowjust　let　US　do　for　you；　can't　you？〃　　I　couldn't
it　was　dreadful　to　see　them　emptying　my　slops；　but　I　pretended　I
could；　to　oblige　them；　for　about　a　week。　　Then　I　gave　them　a　sum　of
money　to　go　away；　and　I　never　saw　them　again。　　I　obtained　the
remaining　books；　but　my　friend　Hawley　repeats　that　Major　and　Mrs。
Monarch　did　me　a　permanent　harm；　got　me　into　false　ways。　　If　it　be
true　I'm　content　to　have　paid　the　pricefor　the　memory。




THE　STORY　OF　IT




CHAPTER　I



The　weather　had　turned　so　much　worse　that　the　rest　of　the　day　was
certainly　lost。　　The　wind　had　risen　and　the　storm　gathered　force；
they　gave　from　time　to　time　a　thump　at　the　firm　windows　and　dashed
even　against　those　protected　by　the　verandah　their　vicious
splotches　of　rain。　　Beyond　the　lawn；　beyond　the　cliff；　the　great
wet　brush　of　the　sky　dipped　deep　into　the　sea。　　But　the　lawn；
already　vivid　with　the　touch　of　May；　showed　a　violence　of　watered
green；　the　budding　shrubs　and　trees　repeated　the　note　as　they
tossed　their　thick　masses；　and　the　cold　troubled　light；　filling　the
pretty　saloon；　marked　the　spring　afternoon　as　sufficiently　young。
The　two　ladies　seated　there　in　silence　could　pursue　without
difficultyas　well　as；　clearly；　without　interruptiontheir
respective　tasks；　a　confidence　expressed；　when　the　noise　of　the
wind　allowed　it　to　be　heard；　by　the　sharp　scratch　of　Mrs。　Dyott's
pen　at　the　table　where　she　was　busy　with　letters。

Her　visitor；　settled　on　a　small　sofa　that；　with　a　palm…tree；　a
screen；　a　stool；　a　stand；　a　bowl　of　flowers　and　three　photographs
in　silver　frames；　had　been　arranged　near　the　light　wood…fire　as　a
choice　〃corner〃Maud　Blessingbourne；　her　guest；　turned　audibly；
though　at　intervals　neither　brief　nor　regular；　the　leaves　of　a　book
covered　in　lemon…coloured　paper　and　not　yet　despoiled　of　a　certain
fresh　crispness。　　This　effect　of　the　volume；　for　the　eye；　would
have　made　it；　as　presumably　the　newest　French　noveland　evidently；
from　the　attitude　of　the　reader；　〃good〃consort　happily　with　the
special　tone　of　the　room；　a　consistent　air　of　selection　and
suppression；　one　of　the　finer　aesthetic　evolutions。　　If　Mrs。　Dyott
was　fond　of　ancient　French　furniture　and　distinctly　difficult　about
it；　her　inmates　could　be　fondwith　whatever　critical　cocks　of
charming　dark…braided　heads　over　slender　sloping　shouldersof
modern　French　authors。　　Nothing　bad　passed　for　half　an　hour
nothing　at　least；　to　be　exact；　but　that　each　of　the　companions
occasionally　and　covertly　intermitted　her　pursuit　in　such　a　manner
as　to　ascertain　the　degree　of　absorption　of　the　other　without
turning　round。　　What　their　silence　was　charged　with　therefore　was
not　only　a　sense　of　the　weather；　but　a　sense；　so　to　speak；　of　its
own　nature。　　Maud　Blessingbourne；　when　she　lowered　her　book　into
her　lap；　closed　her　eyes　with　a　conscious　patience　that　seemed　to
say　she　waited；　but　it　was　nevertheless　she　who　at　last　made　the
movement　representing　a　snap　of　their　tension。　　She　got　up　and
stood　by　the　fire；　into　which　she　looked　a　minute；　then　came　round
and　approached　the　window　as　if　to　see　what　was　really　going　on。
At　this　Mrs。　Dyott　wrote　with　refreshed　intensity。　　Her　little　pile
of　letters　had　grown；　and　if　a　look　of　determination　was　compatible
with　her　fair　and　slightly　faded　beauty　the　habit　of　attending　to
her　business　could　always　keep　pace　with　any　excursion　of　her
thought。　　Yet　she　was　the　first　who　spoke。

〃I　trust　your　book　has　been　interesting。〃

〃Well　enough；　a　little　mild。〃

A　louder　throb　of　the　tempest　had　blurred　the　sound　of　the　words。
〃A　little　wild？〃

〃Dear　notimid　and　tame；　unless　I've　quite　lost　my　sense。〃

〃Perhaps　you　have；〃　Mrs。　Dyott　placidly　suggested〃reading　so
many。〃

Her　companion　made　a　motion　of　feigned　despair。　　〃Ah　you　take　away
my　courage　for　going　to　my　room；　as　I　was　just　meaning　to；　for
another。〃

〃Another　French　one？〃

〃I'm　afraid。〃

〃Do　you　carry　them　by　the　dozen？〃

〃Into　innocent　British　homes？〃　　Maud　tried　to　remember。　　〃I　believe
I　brought　threeseeing　them　in　a　shop…window　as　I　passed　through
town。　　It　never　rains　but　it　pours！　　But　I've　already　read　two。〃

〃And　are　they　the　only　ones　you　do　read？〃

〃French　ones？〃　Maud　considered。　　〃Oh　no。　　D'Annunzio。〃

〃And　what's　that？〃　Mrs。　Dyott　asked　as　she　affixed　a　stamp。

〃Oh　you　dear　thing！〃　　Her　friend　was　amused；　yet　almost　showed
pity。　　〃I　know　you　don't　read；〃　Maud　went　on；　〃but　why　should　you？
YOU　live！〃

〃Yeswretchedly　enough；〃　Mrs。　Dyott　returned；　getting　her　letters
together。　　She　left　he