some short stories-第9部分

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themI　couldn't　make　my　young　man　seven　feet　high　in　one　place　and
five　feet　nine　in　another。　　I　inclined　on　the　whole　to　the　latter
measurement；　though　the　Major　more　than　once　reminded　me　that　he
looked　about　as　young　as　any　one。　　It　was　indeed　quite　possible　to
arrange　him；　for　the　figure；　so　that　it　would　have　been　difficult
to　detect　his　age。　　After　the　spontaneous　Oronte　had　been　with　me　a
month；　and　after　I　had　given　him　to　understand　several　times　over
that　his　native　exuberance　would　presently　constitute　an
insurmountable　barrier　to　our　further　intercourse；　I　waked　to　a
sense　of　his　heroic　capacity。　　He　was　only　five　feet　seven；　but　the
remaining　inches　were　latent。　　I　tried　him　almost　secretly　at
first；　for　I　was　really　rather　afraid　of　the　judgement　my　other
models　would　pass　on　such　a　choice。　　If　they　regarded　Miss　Churm　as
little　better　than　a　snare　what　would　they　think　of　the
representation　by　a　person　so　little　the　real　thing　as　an　Italian
street…vendor　of　a　protagonist　formed　by　a　public　school？

If　I　went　a　little　in　fear　of　them　it　wasn't　because　they　bullied
me；　because　they　had　got　an　oppressive　foothold；　but　because　in
their　really　pathetic　decorum　and　mysteriously　permanent　newness
they　counted　on　me　so　intensely。　　I　was　therefore　very　glad　when
Jack　Hawley　came　home：　　he　was　always　of　such　good　counsel。　　He
painted　badly　himself；　but　there　was　no　one　like　him　for　putting
his　finger　on　the　place。　　He　had　been　absent　from　England　for　a
year；　he　had　been　somewhereI　don't　remember　whereto　get　a　fresh
eye。　　I　was　in　a　good　deal　of　dread　of　any　such　organ；　but　we　were
old　friends；　he　had　been　away　for　months　and　a　sense　of　emptiness
was　creeping　into　my　life。　　I　hadn't　dodged　a　missile　for　a　year。

He　came　back　with　a　fresh　eye；　but　with　the　same　old　black　velvet
blouse；　and　the　first　evening　he　spent　in　my　studio　we　smoked
cigarettes　till　the　small　hours。　　He　had　done　no　work　himself；　he
had　only　got　the　eye；　so　the　field　was　clear　for　the　production　of
my　little　things。　　He　wanted　to　see　what　I　had　produced　for　the
Cheapside；　but　he　was　disappointed　in　the　exhibition。　　That　at
least　seemed　the　meaning　of　two　or　three　comprehensive　groans
which；　as　he　lounged　on　my　big　divan；　his　leg　folded　under　him；
looking　at　my　latest　drawings；　issued　from　his　lips　with　the　smoke
of　the　cigarette。

〃What's　the　matter　with　you？〃　I　asked。

〃What's　the　matter　with　you？〃

〃Nothing　save　that　I'm　mystified。〃

〃You　are　indeed。　　You're　quite　off　the　hinge。　　What's　the　meaning
of　this　new　fad？〃　　And　he　tossed　me；　with　visible　irreverence；　a
drawing　in　which　I　happened　to　have　depicted　both　my　elegant
models。　　I　asked　if　he　didn't　think　it　good；　and　he　replied　that　it
struck　him　as　execrable；　given　the　sort　of　thing　I　had　always
represented　myself　to　him　as　wishing　to　arrive　at；　but　I　let　that
passI　was　so　anxious　to　see　exactly　what　he　meant。　　The　two
figures　in　the　picture　looked　colossal；　but　I　supposed　this　was　not
what　he　meant；　inasmuch　as；　for　aught　he　knew　to　the　contrary；　I
might　have　been　trying　for　some　such　effect。　　I　maintained　that　I
was　working　exactly　in　the　same　way　as　when　he　last　had　done　me　the
honour　to　tell　me　I　might　do　something　some　day。　　〃Well；　there's　a
screw　loose　somewhere；〃　he　answered；　〃wait　a　bit　and　I'll　discover
it。〃　　I　depended　upon　him　to　do　so：　　where　else　was　the　fresh　eye？
But　he　produced　at　last　nothing　more　luminous　than　〃I　don't　knowI
don't　like　your　types。〃　　This　was　lame　for　a　critic　who　had　never
consented　to　discuss　with　me　anything　but　the　question　of
execution；　the　direction　of　strokes　and　the　mystery　of　values。

〃In　the　drawings　you've　been　looking　at　I　think　my　types　are　very
handsome。〃

〃Oh　they　won't　do！〃

〃I've　been　working　with　new　models。〃


〃I　see　you　have。　　THEY　won't　do。〃

〃Are　you　very　sure　of　that？〃

〃Absolutelythey're　stupid。〃

〃You　mean　I　amfor　I　ought　to　get　round　that。〃

〃You　can'twith　such　people。　　Who　are　they？〃

I　told　him；　so　far　as　was　necessary；　and　he　concluded　heartlessly：
〃Ce　sont　des　gens　qu'il　faut　mettre　a　la　porte。〃

〃You've　never　seen　them；　they're　awfully　good〃I　flew　to　their
defence。

〃Not　seen　them？　　Why　all　this　recent　work　of　yours　drops　to　pieces
with　them。　　It's　all　I　want　to　see　of　them。〃

〃No　one　else　has　said　anything　against　itthe　Cheapside　people　are
pleased。〃

〃Every　one　else　is　an　ass；　and　the　Cheapside　people　the　biggest
asses　of　all。　　Come；　don't　pretend　at　this　time　of　day　to　have
pretty　illusions　about　the　public；　especially　about　publishers　and
editors。　　It's　not　for　SUCH　animals　you　workit's　for　those　who
know；　coloro　che　sanno；　so　keep　straight　for　me　if　you　can't　keep
straight　for　yourself。　　There　was　a　certain　sort　of　thing　you　used
to　try　forand　a　very　good　thing　it　was。　　But　this　twaddle　isn't
in　it。〃　　When　I　talked　with　Hawley　later　about　〃Rutland　Ramsay〃　and
its　possible　successors　he　declared　that　I　must　get　back　into　my
boat　again　or　I　should　go　to　the　bottom。　　His　voice　in　short　was
the　voice　of　warning。

I　noted　the　warning；　but　I　didn't　turn　my　friends　out　of　doors。
They　bored　me　a　good　deal；　but　the　very　fact　that　they　bored　me
admonished　me　not　to　sacrifice　themif　there　was　anything　to　be
done　with　themsimply　to　irritation。　　As　I　look　back　at　this　phase
they　seem　to　me　to　have　pervaded　my　life　not　a　little。　　I　have　a
vision　of　them　as　most　of　the　time　in　my　studio；　seated　against　the
wall　on　an　old　velvet　bench　to　be　out　of　the　way；　and　resembling
the　while　a　pair　of　patient　courtiers　in　a　royal　antechamber。　　I'm
convinced　that　during　the　coldest　weeks　of　the　winter　they　held
their　ground　because　it　saved　them　fire。　　Their　newness　was　losing
its　gloss；　and　it　was　impossible　not　to　feel　them　objects　of
charity。　　Whenever　Miss　Churm　arrived　they　went　away；　and　after　I
was　fairly　launched　in　〃Rutland　Ramsay〃　Miss　Churm　arrived　pretty
often。　　They　managed　to　express　to　me　tacitly　that　they　supposed　I
wanted　her　for　the　low　life　of　the　book；　and　I　let　them　suppose　it；
since　they　had　attempted　to　study　the　workit　was　lying　about　the
studiowithout　discovering　that　it　dealt　only　with　the　highest
circles。　　They　had　dipped　into　the　most　brilliant　of　our　novelists
without　deciphering　many　passages。　　I　still　took　an　hour　from　them；
now　and　again；　in　spite　of　Jack　Hawley's　warning：　　it　would　be　time
enough　to　dismiss　them；　if　dismissal　should　be　necessary；　when　the
rigour　of　the　season　was　over。　　Hawley　had　made　their　acquaintance…
…he　had　met　them　at　my　firesideand　thought　them　a　ridiculous
pair。　　Learning　that　he　was　a　painter　they　tried　to　approach　him；
to　show　him　too　that　they　were　the　real　thing；　but　he　looked　at
them　across　the　big　room；　as　if　they　were　miles　away：　　they　were　a
compendium　of　everything　he　most　objected　to　in　the　social　system
of　his　country。　　Such　people　as　that；　all　convention　and　patent…
leather；　with　ejaculations　that　stopped　conversation；　had　no
business　in　a　studio。　　A　studio　was　a　place　to　learn　to　see；　and
how　could　you　see　through　a　pair　of　feather…beds？

The　main　inconvenience　I　suffered　at　their　hands　was　that　at　first
I　was　shy　of　letting　it　break　upon　them　that　my　artful　little
servant　had　begun　to　sit　to　me　for　〃Rutland　Ramsay。〃　　They　knew　I
had　been　odd　enoughthey　were　prepared　by　this　time　to　allow
oddity　to　artiststo　pick　a　foreign　vagabond　out　of　the　streets
when　I　might　have　had　a　person　with　whiskers　and　credentials；　but
it　was　some　time　before　they　learned　how　high　I　rated　his
accomplishments。　　They　found　him　in　an　attitude　more　than　once；　but
they　never　doubted　I　was　doing　him　as　an　organ…grinder。　　There　were
several　things　they　never　guessed；　and　one　of　them　was　that　for　a
striking　scene　in　the　novel；　in　which　a　footman　briefly　figured；　it
occurred　to　me　to　make　use　of　Major　Monarch　as　the　menial。　　I　kept
putting　this　off；　I　didn't　like　to　ask　him　to　don　the　livery
besides　the　difficulty　of　finding　a　livery　to　fit　him。　　At　last；
one　day　late　in　the　winter；　when　I　was　at　work　on　the　despised
Oronte；　who　caught　one's　idea　on　the　wing；　and　was　in　the　glow　of
feeling　myself　go　very　straight；　they　came　in；　the　Major　and　his
wife；　with　their　society　laugh　about　nothing　（there　was　less　and
less　to　laugh　at）；　came　in　like　country…callersthey　always
reminded　me　of　thatwho　have　walked　across　the　park　after　church
and　are　presently　persuaded　to　stay　to　luncheon。　　Luncheon　was
over；　but　they　could　stay　to　teaI　knew　they　wanted　it。　　The　fit
was　on　me；　however；　and　I　couldn't　let　my　ardour　cool　and　my　work
wait；　with　the　fading　daylight；　while　my　model　prepared　it。　　So　I
asked　Mrs。　Monarch　if　she　would　mind　laying　it　outa　request　which
for　an　instant　brought　all　the　blood　to　her　face。　　Her　eyes　were　on
her　husband's　for　a　second；　and　some　mute　telegraphy　passed　between
them。　　Their　folly　was　over　the　next　instant；　his　cheerful
shrewdness　put　an　end　to　it。　　So　far　from　pitying　their　wounded
pride；　I　must　add；　I　was　moved　to　give　it　as　complete　a　lesson　as　I
could。　　They　bustled　about　together　and　got　out　the　cups　and
saucers　and　made　the　kettle　boil。　　I　know　they　felt　as　if　they　were
waiting　on　my　servant；　and　when　the　tea　was　prepared　I　said：
〃He'll　have　a　cup；　pleasehe's　tired。〃　　Mrs。　Monarch　brought　him
one　where　he　stood；　and　he　took　it　from　her　as　if　he　had　been　a
gentleman　at　a　party　squeezing　a　crush…hat　with　an　elbow。

Then　it　came　over　me　that　she　had　made　a　great　effort　for　memade
it　with　a　kind　of　noblenessand　that　I　owed　her　a　compensation。
Each　time　I　saw　her　after　this　I　wondered　what　the　compensation
could　be。　　I　couldn't　go　on　doing　the　wrong　thing　to　oblige　them。
Oh　it　WAS　the　wrong　thing；　the　stamp　of　the　work　for　which　they
satHawley　was　not　the　only　person　to　say　it　now。　　I　sent　in　a
large　number　of　the　drawings　I　had　made　for　〃Rutland　Ramsay；〃　and　I
received　a　warning　that　was　more　to　the　point　than　Hawley's。　　The
artistic　adviser　of　the　house　for　which　I　was　working　was　of
opinion　that　many　of　my　illustrations　were　not　what　had　been　looked
for。　　Most　of　these　illustrations　were　the　subjects　in　which　the
Monarchs　had　figured。　　Without　going　into　the　question　of　what　HAD
been　looked　for；　I　had　to　face　the　fact　that