business. Well,it's my turn now. I'm off. But as I am more civil than you, I willinform you that I am going to study effects on the Thames. Silveryreaches, sweeping clouds--all that style of thing. Excellent practice,isn't it?"
"Oh, excellent," Everitt said in the same tone; "especially studied asyou will study them. What a fool you are, Jack, to fling away yourchances!"
"Turn and turn about," said Jack. "It's a heavenly day, and you've hadyour go at it. I'm off."
He marched away, stopped at the door, scrawled a spirited charcoalcaricature of Everitt on a spare board, ducked to avoid a mahl-stickwhich was promptly flung at his head, and whistled himself out ofhearing.
"Pont-aven," reflected Everitt. But somehow the notion of the littlefishing-village, with its colony of artists, its wealth of models, itspicturesque points, its wind-tossed seas, had lost a charm which the daybefore had seemed, irresistible. It might be good for Jack, it mightnot. He had that talent for idleness which can extract it under almostany pressure of circumstances. It was exceedingly likely that he wouldsucceed in amusing himself very well at Pont-aven--probably learn tohandle a boat like a native, and all the while avoid steady work withall his present ingenuity. In that case, there was not much use ingoing. Of his yesterday's wish to be off on his own account, of hissickening over his Saturdays, of his general impatience with London--Everitt remembered nothing. It seemed to him, on the contrary, that fewplaces were so good to live in, and he hoped that Mary Marchmont mightcome again on Saturday. Then he looked round upon his walls withdissatisfaction. There were beautiful and costly things hanging aboutin finely harmonised colours, rich curtains, ancient rugs, and Arabiclamps; there were choice pictures, and two or three admirable bronzesfrom a neighbouring studio; but it seemed to him that, in spite of thevalue of these things and their artistic beauty, the place had no touchof the charm which belonged to the little room in which he had foundhimself that morning--a room which was so simple, so unassuming, and socheerful!
In short, it was evident that he had received an impression.
This was all very well, but it was equally evident that he could nothave produced one, except in the character of a ruffian; and that,moreover, he had himself cut away the ground from under his feet. It istrue he did not get so far as to admit that this gave him more than ageneral reason for annoyance, but he did feel that a good-naturedimpulse had placed him in a hateful position from which he could noteven now retire.
Then his model arrived, and he flung himself into his painting, and keptthe other subject out of his head, except that he had never been somerciful in the matter of rests.
He dined out, and the first person he saw on entering the room was MrsMarchmont. She came towards him very cordially.
"You were as good as your word, and sent the dreadful man."
"Did Miss Lascelles say that he was dreadful?" asked Everitt, flatteringhimself that he spoke indifferently.
"Bell told me he had a very fierce expression. I have not seen Kitty.But it was nice of you to take the trouble."
"Oh," said he, a little spitefully, "I had promised a ruffian."
"You had," she said. "Do you find people always carry out theirpromises? I don't."
"I sometimes wish they wouldn't," he retorted. "But this MissLascelles--what has attracted you so much towards her?"
"No one could help it," she said. "I should like you to meet her, andthen you would understand what I mean."
"Evidently she would be dangerous," he said, shaking his head. "Idaren't risk it. Has she a father, or any one belonging to her?"
"Of course she has a father," she replied, "Women don't hold militaryappointments yet. A very nice, particular father--Oh, here is Bell!"
She hurried across the room. Everitt remaining behind with veryunenviable feelings. It seemed a particularly bad piece of luck thatMiss Aitcheson and her father should appear at this party; for alreadyhe was not free from the suspicion that she had recognised him. Therewas nothing for it but to brazen it out. He strolled across the roomtowards her; but at this moment dinner was announced, and his course wasdiverted. At dinner they were on the same side, out of sight of eachother; then he began to reflect that with a large party in a doubledrawing-room a little management might prevent any actual contact.
When the ladies had gone. Colonel Aitcheson came over to speak toMarchmont, who was near Everitt. Everitt would have drawn off, but thatMarchmont made some remark to him, and Colonel Aitcheson faced round,shoulders and all.
"You must excuse me, sir, but your face is extraordinarily familiar tome."
Everitt bowed.
Marchmont hastened to introduce him. "Perhaps you know the name?"
"Not at all, not at all. I've no head for names--forget my own somedays; but a face is another sort of thing--never forget a face." Hethrew his head back and looked frowningly at Everitt. "I could havesworn I'd seen you somewhere lately, eh? Well, it's odd, it's odd. Imust ask Bell."
"I dare say you're right," Everitt said coolly. "I'm about a gooddeal."
Upstairs he took some pains to barricade himself in a subdued corner, asremote as possible from Miss Aitcheson, and made such unusual effortsfor the entertainment of the young ladies who were round him, and whomhe earnestly desired might stay, that he gained quite a new characterfor agreeability. Unfortunately, his hostess routed him from hisretreat--some lady was anxious to make his acquaintance. When this wasover he found his cousin at his elbow, and close to her was Bell.
"You haven't been very nice to me tonight," said Mrs Marchmont; "and itis too late now, for we are going. But you may talk a little to Bellabout pictures. You can be very intelligent, can't you, Bell? Goodnight."
Everitt felt desperate.
"You paint, I suppose?" he inquired, "A little," she said demurely."Figures." He looked keenly at her, but she was engaged in examining agold bangle on her arm.
"That," he said, "is ambitious."
"And often disheartening," she returned carelessly. "My experience ofLondon models has not been very satisfactory."
"No?" he said in the same tone. "Well, I suspect the experience of agood many artists goes along with yours. Where is your studio?"
"I have none. You see I am not ambitious, after all. When I paint itis with my friend, Miss Lascelles, whom, I think, you know?"
Was it a chance thrust, or a well-directed blow?
"I have seen Miss Lascelles," said Everitt coolly.
She glanced at him as he spoke, then, as it seemed to him, ratherforcibly changed the subject. She left him, however, in a state ofperplexity; he found it impossible to decide whether she were utterlyunsuspecting or very well informed. Under these circumstances it mighthave been supposed that Everitt would have again gone through the prosand cons which had already assailed him, and have found a few moreprudential reasons for abandoning to-morrow's scheme. This was not thecase. He had rather an obstinate trick of sticking to the thing towhich he had once committed himself: it had its merits and its dangers,but it might be called a characteristic.
When the morning came, matters did not go so smoothly as on thepreceding day. Jack Hibbert was seized with the fit of remorsefulindustry which afflicted him on the rarest possible occasions. He cameat an unheard-of hour to the studio, and Everitt had all the difficultyin the world to get rid of him. He must ask no end of inconvenientquestions--what had become of the Italian, and how bad Everitt filledhis place with Miss Lascelles? Then, seized with unusual meekness, hebegged advice, and wanted his last picture looked over; next, he wasscandalised at hearing that Everitt was going out again for the morning;finally, he besought that he might work in his friend's studio upon abit of tapestry which took his fancy. All these attacks had to beparried, the indignant Jack had with immense difficulty to be got out ofthe way; then Everitt dressed himself as rapidly as he could. He tookpains about his lace; a few adroit touches he trusted modified the riskof detection, and might baffle Miss Aitcheson. As cautiously as befo
rehe reconnoitred the court, but with Jack about there was more difficultyin escaping, and he had not reached the entrance when he heard acheerful hail, which was evidently intended for his ears. There was nohelp for it, Everitt took to his heels and fled, bolting across the roadand down a side-street, to the great astonishment of the beholders.
All this had taken time--he was late again, and Miss Lascelles greetedhim with a little reproach, which it must be owned did not affect him;for he was merely conscious of an extreme pleasure in finding himselfagain alone with her. He had been curious enough to know whether hisfirst day's impressions were altogether correct, whether they
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