TheafternoonwaswelladvancedwhenTorpenhowcametothedoorandsawDickdancingawildsarabandundertheskylight。
  ’IbuildedbetterthanIknew,Torp,’hesaid,withoutstoppingthedance。
  ’They’regood!They’redamnedgood!They’llgolikeflame!Ishallhaveanexhibitionofthemonmyownbrazenhook。Andthatmanwouldhavecheatedmeoutofit!DoyouknowthatI’msorrynowthatIdidn’tactuallyhithim?’
  ’Goout,’saidTorpenhow,——’gooutandpraytobedeliveredfromthesinofarrogance,whichyouneverwillbe。Bringyourthingsupfromwhateverplaceyou’restayingin,andwe’lltrytomakethisbarnalittlemoreshipshape。’
  ’Andthen——oh,then,’saidDick,stillcapering,’wewillspoiltheEgyptians!’?
  CHAPTERIV
  Thewolf—cubatevenlayhidinthecorn,Whenthesmokeofthecookinghunggray:
  Heknewwherethedoemadeacouchforherfawn,Andhelookedtohisstrengthforhisprey。
  Butthemoonsweptthesmoke—wreathsaway。
  Andheturnedfromhismealinthevillager’sclose,Andhebayedtothemoonassherose。——InSeonee。?
  ’WELL,andhowdoessuccesstaste?’saidTorpenhow,somethreemonthslater。Hehadjustreturnedtochambersafteraholidayinthecountry。
  ’Good,’saidDick,ashesatlickinghislipsbeforetheeaselinthestudio。
  ’Iwantmore,——heapsmore。Theleanyearshavepassed,andIapproveofthesefatones。’
  ’Becareful,oldman。Thatwayliesbadwork。’
  Torpenhowwassprawlinginalongchairwithasmallfox—terrierasleeponhischest,whileDickwaspreparingacanvas。Adais,abackground,andalay—figureweretheonlyfixedobjectsintheplace。Theyrosefromawreckofoddmentsthatbeganwithfelt—coveredwater—bottles,belts,andregimentalbadges,andendedwithasmallbaleofsecond—handuniformsandastandofmixedarms。Themarkofmuddyfeetonthedaisshowedthatamilitarymodelhadjustgoneaway。Thewateryautumnsunlightwasfalling,andshadowssatinthecornersofthestudio。
  ’Yes,’saidDick,deliberately,’Ilikethepower;Ilikethefun;Ilikethefuss;andaboveallIlikethemoney。Ialmostlikethepeoplewhomakethefussandpaythemoney。Almost。Butthey’reaqueergang,——anamazinglyqueergang!’
  ’Theyhavebeengoodenoughtoyou,atanyrate。Thantin—potexhibitionofyoursketchesmusthavepaid。Didyouseethatthepaperscalleditthe"WildWorkShow"?’
  ’Nevermind。IsoldeveryshredofcanvasIwantedto;and,onmyword,IbelieveitwasbecausetheybelievedIwasaself—taughtflagstoneartist。
  IshouldhavegotbetterpricesifIworkedmythingsonwoolorscratchedthemoncamel—boneinsteadofusingmereblackandwhiteandcolour。Verily,theyareaqueergang,thesepeople。Limitedisn’tthewordtodescribe’em。Imetafellowtheotherdaywhotoldmethatitwasimpossiblethatshadowsonwhitesandshouldbeblue,——ultramarine,——astheyare。Ifoundout,later,thatthemanhadbeenasfarasBrightonbeach;butheknewallaboutArt,confoundhim。Hegavemealectureonit,andrecommendedmetogotoschooltolearntechnique。IwonderwhatoldKamiwouldhavesaidtothat。’
  ’WhenwereyouunderKami,manofextraordinarybeginnings?’
  ’IstudiedwithhimfortwoyearsinParis。Hetaughtbypersonalmagnetism。Allheeversaidwas,"Continuez,mesenfants,"andyouhadtomakethebestyoucouldofthat。Hehadadivinetouch,andheknewsomethingaboutcolour。Kamiusedtodreamcolour;Iswearhecouldneverhaveseenthegenuinearticle;butheevolvedit;anditwasgood。’
  ’RecollectsomeofthoseviewsintheSoudan?’saidTorpenhow,withaprovokingdrawl。
  Dicksquirmedinhisplace。’Don’t!Itmakesmewanttogetoutthereagain。Whatcolourthatwas!Opalandumberandamberandclaretandbrick—redandsulphur——cockatoo—crest——sulphur——againstbrown,withanigger—blackrockstickingupinthemiddleofitall,andadecorativefriezeofcamelsfestooninginfrontofapurepaleturquoisesky。’Hebegantowalkupanddown。’Andyet,youknow,ifyoutrytogivethesepeoplethethingasGodgaveit,keyeddowntotheircomprehensionandaccordingtothepowersHehasgivenyou————’
  ’Modestman!Goon。’
  ’Halfadozenepiceneyoungpaganswhohaven’tevenbeentoAlgierswilltellyou,first,thatyournotionisborrowed,and,secondly,thatitisn’tArt。
  ’’Thiscomesofmyleavingtownforamonth。Dickie,you’vebeenpromenadingamongthetoy—shopsandhearingpeopletalk。’
  ’Icouldn’thelpit,’saidDick,penitently。’Youweren’there,anditwaslonelytheselongevenings。Amancan’tworkforever。’
  ’Amanmighthavegonetoapub,andgotdecentlydrunk。’
  ’IwishIhad;butIforgatheredwithsomemenofsorts。Theysaidtheywereartists,andIknewsomeofthemcoulddraw,——buttheywouldn’tdraw。Theygavemetea,——teaatfiveintheafternoon!——andtalkedaboutArtandthestateoftheirsouls。Asiftheirsoulsmattered。I’veheardmoreaboutArtandseenlessofherinthelastsixmonthsthaninthewholeofmylife。DoyourememberCassavetti,whoworkedforsomecontinentalsyndicate,outwiththedesertcolumn?HewasaregularChristmas—treeofcontraptionswhenhetookthefieldinfullfig,withhiswater—bottle,lanyard,revolver,writing—case,housewife,gig—lamps,andtheLordknowswhatall。Heusedtofiddleaboutwith’emandshowushowtheyworked;butheneverseemedtodomuchexceptfudgehisreportsfromtheNilghai。See?’
  ’DearoldNilghai!He’sintown,fatterthanever。Heoughttobeupherethisevening。Iseethecomparisonperfectly。Youshouldhavekeptclearofallthatman—millinery。Servesyouright;andIhopeitwillunsettleyourmind。’
  ’Itwon’t。IthastaughtmewhatArt——holysacredArt——means。’
  ’You’velearntsomethingwhileI’vebeenaway。WhatisArt?’
  ’Give’emwhattheyknow,andwhenyou’vedoneitoncedoitagain。’
  Dickdraggedforwardacanvaslaidfacetothewall。’Here’sasampleofrealArt。It’sgoingtobeafacsimilereproductionforaweekly。Icalledit"HisLastShot。"It’sworkedupfromthelittlewater—colourImadeoutsideElMaghrib。Well,Iluredmymodel,abeautifulrifleman,upherewithdrink;Idroredhim,andIredroredhim,andIredroredhim,andImadehimaflushed,dishevelled,bedevilledscallawag,withhishelmetatthebackofhishead,andthelivingfearofdeathinhiseye,andthebloodoozingoutofacutoverhisankle—bone。Hewasn’tpretty,buthewasallsoldierandverymuchman。’
  ’Oncemore,modestchild!’
  Dicklaughed。’Well,it’sonlytoyouI’mtalking。IdidhimjustaswellasIknewhow,makingallowancefortheslicknessofoils。Thentheart—managerofthatabandonedpapersaidthathissubscriberswouldn’tlikeit。Itwasbrutalandcoarseandviolent,——manbeingnaturallygentlewhenhe’sfightingforhislife。Theywantedsomethingmorerestful,withalittlemorecolour。Icouldhavesaidagooddeal,butyoumightaswelltalktoasheepasanart—manager。Itookmy"LastShot"back。Beholdtheresult!Iputhimintoalovelyredcoatwithoutaspeckonit。ThatisArt。Ipolishedhisboots,——observethehighlightonthetoe。ThatisArt。I
  cleanedhisrifle,——riflesarealwayscleanonservice,——becausethatisArt。
  Ipipeclayedhishelmet,——pipeclayisalwaysusedonactiveservice,andisindispensabletoArt。Ishavedhischin,Iwashedhishands,andgavehimanairoffattedpeace。Result,militarytailor’spattern—plate。Price,thankHeaven,twiceasmuchasforthefirstsketch,whichwasmoderatelydecent。’
  ’Anddoyousupposeyou’regoingtogivethatthingoutasyourwork?’
  ’Whynot?Ididit。AloneIdidit,intheinterestsofsacred,home—bredArtandDickenson’sWeekly。’
  Torpenhowsmokedinsilenceforawhile。Thencametheverdict,deliveredfromrollingclouds:’Ifyouwereonlyamassofblatheringvanity,Dick,Iwouldn’tmind,——I’dletyougotothedeuceonyourownmahl—stick;butwhenIconsiderwhatyouaretome,andwhenIfindthattovanityyouaddthetwopenny—halfpennypiqueofatwelve—year—oldgirl,thenIbestirmyselfinyourbehalf。Thus!’
  ThecanvasrippedasTorpenhow’sbootedfootshotthroughit,andtheterrierjumpeddown,thinkingratswereabout。
  ’Ifyouhaveanybadlanguagetouse,useit。Youhavenot。Icontinue。
  Youareanidiot,becausenomanbornofwomanisstrongenoughtotakelibertieswithhispublic,eventhoughtheybe——whichtheyain’t——allyousaytheyare。’
  ’Buttheydon’tknowanybetter。Whatcanyouexpectfromcreaturesbornandbredinthislight?’Dickpointedtotheyellowfog。’Iftheywantfurniture—polish,letthemhavefurniture—polish,solongastheypayforit。
  Theyareonlymenandwomen。Youtalkasiftheyweregods。’
  ’Thatsoundsveryfine,butithasnothingtodowiththecase。Theyaretheypeopleyouhavetodoworkfor,whetheryoulikeitornot。Theyareyourmasters。Don’tbedeceived,Dickie,youaren’tstrongenoughtotriflewiththem,——orwithyourself,whichismoreimportant。
  Moreover,——Comeback,Binkie:thatreddaubisn’tgoinganywhere,——unlessyoutakepreciousgoodcare,youwillfallunderthedamnationofthecheck—book,andthat’sworsethandeath。Youwillgetdrunk——you—rehalfdrunkalready——oneasilyacquiredmoney。Forthatmoneyandyouowninfernalvanityyouarewillingtodeliberatelyturnoutbadwork。You’lldoquiteenoughbadworkwithoutknowingit。And,Dickie,asIloveyouandasIknowyouloveme,IamnotgoingtoletyoucutoffyournosetospiteyourfaceforallthegoldinEngland。That’ssettled。Nowswear。’
  ’Don’tknow,saidDick。’I’vebeentryingtomakemyselfangry,butI
  can’t,you’resoabominablyreasonable。TherewillbearowonDickenson’sWeekly,Ifancy。’
  ’WhytheDickensondoyouwanttoworkonaweeklypaper?It’sslowbleedingofpower。’
  ’Itbringsintheverydesirabledollars,’saidDick,hishandsinhispockets。
  Torpenhowwatchedhimwithlargecontempt。’Why,Ithoughtitwasaman!’saidhe。’It’sachild。’
  ’No,itisn’t,’saidDick,wheelingquickly。’You’venonotionowhatthecertaintyofcashmeanstoamanwhohasalwayswanteditbadly。
  Nothingwillpaymeforsomeofmylife’sjoys;onthatChinesepig—boat,forinstance,whenweatebreadandjamforeverymeal,becauseHo—Wangwouldn’tallowusanythingbetter,anditalltastedofpig,——Chinesepig。I’veworkedforthis,I’vesweatedandI’vestarvedforthis,lineonlineandmonthaftermonth。AndnowI’vegotitIamgoingtomakethemostofitwhileitlasts。Letthempay——they’venoknowledge。’
  ’WhatdoesYourMajestypleasetowant?Youcan’tsmokemorethanyoudo;youwon’tdrink;you’reagrossfeeder;andyoudressinthedark,bythelookofyou。Youwouldn’tkeepahorsetheotherdaywhenI
  suggested,because,yousaid,itmightfalllame,andwheneveryoucrossthestreetyoutakeahansom。EvenyouarenotfoolishenoughtosupposethattheatresandallthelivethingsyoucanbythereaboutsmeanLife。
  Whatearthlyneedhaveyouformoney?’
  ’It’sthere,blessitsgoldenheart,’saidDick。’It’sthereallthetime。
  ProvidencehassentmenutswhileIhaveteethtocrack’emwith。I
  haven’tyetfoundthenutIwishtocrack,butI’mkeepingmyteethfiled。
  PerhapssomedayyouandIwillgoforawalkroundthewideearth。’
  ’Withnoworktodo,nobodytoworryus,andnobodytocompetewith?
  Youwouldbeunfittospeaktoinaweek。Besides,Ishouldn’tgo。Idon’tcaretoprofitbythepriceofaman’ssoul,——forthat’swhatitwouldmean。
  Dick,it’snousearguing。You’reafool。’
  ’Don’tseeit。WhenIwasonthatChinesepig—boat,ourcaptaingotcreditforsavingabouttwenty—fivethousandveryseasicklittlepigs,whenouroldtrampofasteamerfellfoulofatimber—junk。Now,takingthosepigsasaparallel————’
  ’Oh,confoundyourparallels!WheneverItrytoimproveyoursoul,youalwaysdraginsomeanecdotefromyourveryshadypast。Pigsaren’ttheBritishpublic;andself—respectisself—respecttheworldover。Gooutforawalkandtrytocatchsomeself—respect。And,Isay,iftheNilghaicomesupthiseveningcanIshowhimyourdiggings?’
  ’Surely。’AndDickdeparted,totakecounselwithhimselfintherapidlygatheringLondonfog。
  Halfanhourafterhehadleft,theNilghailabouredupthestaircase。Hewasthechiefest,ashewastheyoungest,ofthewarcorrespondents,andhisexperiencesdatedfromthebirthoftheneedle—gun。Savingonlyhisally,KeneutheGreatWarEagle,therewasnomanhigherinthecraftthanhe,andhealwaysopenedhisconversationwiththenewsthattherewouldbetroubleintheBalkansinthespring。Torpenhowlaughedasheentered。
  ’NevermindthetroubleintheBalkans。Thoselittlestatesarealwaysscreeching。You’veheardaboutDick’sluck?’
  ’Yes;hehasbeencalleduptonotoriety,hasn’the?Ihopeyoukeephimproperlyhumble。Hewantssuppressingfromtimetotime。’
  ’Hedoes。He’sbeginningtotakelibertieswithwhathethinksishisreputation。’
  ’Already!ByJove,hehascheek!Idon’tknowabouthisreputation,buthe’llcomeacropperifhetriesthatsortofthing。’
  ’SoItoldhim。Idon’tthinkhebelievesit。’
  ’Theyneverdowhentheyfirststartoff。What’sthatwreckonthegroundthere?’
  ’Specimenofhislatestimpertinence。’Torpenhowthrustthetornedgesofthecanvastogetherandshowedthewell—groomedpicturetotheNilghai,wholookedatitforamomentandwhistled。
  ’It’sachromo,’saidhe,——’achromo—litholeomargarinefake!Whatpossessedhimtodoit?Andyethowthoroughlyhehascaughtthenotethatcatchesapublicwhothinkwiththeirbootsandreadwiththeirelbows!Thecold—bloodedinsolenceoftheworkalmostsavesit;buthemustn’tgoonwiththis。Hasn’thebeenpraisedandcockereduptoomuch?Youknowthesepeopleherehavenosenseofproportion。They’llcallhimasecondDetailleandathird—handMeissonierwhilehisfashionlasts。It’swindydietforacolt。’
  ’Idon’tthinkitaffectsDickmuch。Youmightaswellcallayoungwolfalionandexpecthimtotakethecomplimentinexchangeforashin—bone。
  Dick’ssoulisinthebank。He’sworkingforcash。’
  ’Nowhehasthrownupwarwork,Isupposehedoesn’tseethattheobligationsoftheservicearejustthesame,onlytheproprietorsarechanged。’
  ’Howshouldheknow?Hethinksheishisownmaster。’
  ’Doeshe?Icouldundeceivehimforhisgood,ifthere’sanyvirtueinprint。Hewantsthewhiplash。’
  ’Layitonwithscience,then。I’dflayhimmyself,butIlikehimtoomuch。’
  ’I’venoscruples。HehadtheaudacitytotrytocutmeoutwithawomanatCairoonce。Iforgotthat,butIremembernow。’
  ’Didhecutyouout?’
  ’You’llseewhenIhavedealtwithhim。But,afterall,what’sthegood?
  Leavehimaloneandhe’llcomehome,ifhehasanystuffinhim,draggingorwagginghistailbehindhim。There’smoreinaweekoflifethaninalivelyweekly。NonethelessI’llslatehim。I’llslatehimponderouslyintheCataclysm。’
  ’Goodlucktoyou;butIfancynothingshortofacrowbarwouldmakeDickwince。Hissoulseemstohavebeenfiredbeforewecameacrosshim。
  He’sintenselysuspiciousandutterlylawless。’
  ’Matteroftemper,’saidtheNilghai。’It’sthesamewithhorses。Someyouwallopandtheywork,someyouwallopandtheyjib,andsomeyouwallopandtheygooutforawalkwiththeirhandsintheirpockets。’
  ’That’sexactlywhatDickhasdone,’saidTorpenhow。’Waittillhecomesback。Inthemeantime,youcanbeginyourslatinghere。I’llshowyousomeofhislastandworstworkinhisstudio。’
  Dickhadinstinctivelysoughtrunningwaterforacomforttohismoodofmind。HewasleaningovertheEmbankmentwall,watchingtherushoftheThamesthroughthearchesofWestminsterBridge。HebeganbythinkingofTorpenhow’sadvice,but,asofcustom,losthimselfinthestudyofthefacesflockingpast。Somehaddeathwrittenontheirfeatures,andDickmarvelledthattheycouldlaugh。Others,clumsyandcoarse—builtforthemostpart,werealightwithlove;othersweremerelydrawnandlinedwithwork;buttherewassomething,Dickknew,tobemadeoutofthemall。Thepooratleastshouldsufferthathemightlearn,andtherichshouldpayfortheoutputofhislearning。Thushiscreditintheworldandhiscashbalanceatthebankwouldbeincreased。Somuchthebetterforhim。Hehadsuffered。Nowhewouldtaketolloftheillsofothers。
  Thefogwasdrivenapartforamoment,andthesunshone,ablood—redwafer,onthewater。Dickwatchedthespottillheheardthevoiceofthetidebetweenthepiersdiedownlikethewashoftheseaatlowtide。Agirlhardpressedbyherlovershoutedshamelessly,’Ah,getaway,youbeast!’
  andashiftofthesamewindthathadopenedthefogdroveacrossDick’sfacetheblacksmokeofariver—steameratherberthbelowthewall。Hewasblindedforthemoment,thenspunroundandfoundhimselffacetofacewith——Maisie。
  Therewasnomistaking。Theyearshadturnedthechildtoawoman,buttheyhadnotalteredthedark—grayeyes,thethinscarletlips,orthefirmlymodelledmouthandchin;and,thatallshouldbeasitwasofold,sheworeacloselyfittinggraydress。
  Sincethehumansoulisfiniteandnotintheleastunderitsowncommand,Dick,advancing,said’Halloo!’afterthemannerofschoolboys,andMaisieanswered,’Oh,Dick,isthatyou?’Then,againsthiswill,andbeforethebrainnewlyreleasedfromconsiderationsofthecashbalancehadtimetodictatetothenerves,everypulseofDick’sbodythrobbedfuriouslyandhispalatedriedinhismouth。Thefogshutdownagain,andMaisie’sfacewaspearl—whitethroughit。Nowordwasspoken,butDickfellintostepatherside,andthetwopacedtheEmbankmenttogether,keepingthestepasperfectlyasintheirafternoonexcursionstothemud—flats。ThenDick,alittlehoarsely——
  ’WhathashappenedtoAmomma?’
  ’Hedied,Dick。Notcartridges;over—eating。Hewasalwaysgreedy。Isn’titfunny?’
  ’Yes。No。DoyoumeanAmomma?’
  ’Ye——es。No。This。Wherehaveyoucomefrom?’
  ’Overthere,’Hepointedeastwardthroughthefog。’Andyou?’
  ’Oh,I’minthenorth,——theblacknorth,acrossallthePark。Iamverybusy。’
  ’Whatdoyoudo?’
  ’Ipaintagreatdeal。That’sallIhavetodo。’
  ’Why,what’shappened?Youhadthreehundredayear。’
  ’Ihavethatstill。Iampainting;that’sall。’
  ’Areyoualone,then?’
  ’There’sagirllivingwithme。Don’twalksofast,Dick;you’reoutofstep。’
  ’Thenyounoticedittoo?’
  ’OfcourseIdid。You’realwaysoutofstep。’
  ’SoIam。I’msorry。Youwentonwiththepainting?’
  ’Ofcourse。IsaidIshould。IwasattheSlade,thenatMerton’sinSt。
  John’sWood,thebigstudio,thenIpepper—potted,——ImeanIwenttotheNational,——andnowI’mworkingunderKami。’
  ’ButKamiisinParissurely?’
  ’No;hehashisteachingstudioinVitry—sur—Marne。Iworkwithhiminthesummer,andIliveinLondoninthewinter。I’mahouseholder。’
  ’Doyousellmuch?’
  ’Nowandagain,butnotoften。Thereismy’bus。Imusttakeitorlosehalfanhour。Good—bye,Dick。’
  ’Good—bye,Maisie。Won’tyoutellmewhereyoulive?Imustseeyouagain;andperhapsIcouldhelpyou。I——Ipaintalittlemyself。’
  ’ImaybeintheParkto—morrow,ifthereisnoworkinglight。IwalkfromtheMarbleArchdownandbackagain;thatismylittleexcursion。ButofcourseIshallseeyouagain。’Shesteppedintotheomnibusandwasswallowedupbythefog。
  ’Well——I——am——damned!’exclaimedDick,andreturnedtothechambers。
  TorpenhowandtheNilghaifoundhimsittingonthestepstothestgudiodoor,repeatingthephrasewithanawfulgravity。
  ’You’llbemoredamnedwhenI’mdonewithyou,’saidtheNilghai,upheavinghisbulkfrombehindTorpenhow’sshoulderandwavingasheafofhalf—drymanuscript。’Dick,itisofcommonreportthatyouaresufferingfromswelledhead。’
  ’Halloo,Nilghai。Backagain?HowaretheBalkansandallthelittleBalkans?Onesideofyourfaceisoutofdrawing,asusual。’
  ’Nevermindthat。Iamcommissionedtosmiteyouinprint。Torpenhowrefusesfromfalsedelicacy。I’vebeenoverhaulingthepot—boilersinyourstudio。Theyaresimplydisgraceful。’
  ’Oho!that’sit,isit?Ifyouthinkyoucanslateme,you’rewrong。Youcanonlydescribe,andyouneedasmuchroomtoturnin,onpaper,asaP。andO。cargo—boat。Butcontinue,andbeswift。I’mgoingtobed。’
  ’H’m!h’m!h’m!Thefirstpartonlydealswithyourpictures。Here’stheperoration:"Forworkdonewithoutconviction,forpowerwastedontrivialities,forlabourexpendedwithlevityforthedeliberatepurposeofwinningtheeasyapplauseofafashion—drivenpublic————"
  ’That’s"HisLastShot,"secondedition。Goon。’
  ’————"public,thereremainsbutoneend,——theoblivionthatisprecededbytolerationandcenotaphedwithcontempt。FromthatfateMr。Heldarhasyettoprovehimselfoutofdanger。’
  ’Wow——wow——wow——wow——wow!’saidDick,profanely。’It’saclumsyendingandvilejournalese,butit’squitetrue。Andyet,’——hesprangtohisfeetandsnatchedatthemanuscript,——’youscarred,deboshed,batteredoldgladiator!you’resentoutwhenawarbegins,toministertotheblind,brutal,Britishpublic’sbestialthirstforblood。Theyhavenoarenasnow,buttheymusthavespecialcorrespondents。You’reafatgladiatorwhocomesupthroughatrap—doorandtalksofwhathe’sseen。Youstandonpreciselythesamelevelasanenergeticbishop,anaffableactress,adevastatingcyclone,or——mineownsweetself。Andyoupresumetolecturemeaboutmywork!Nilghai,ifitwereworthwhileI’dcaricatureyouinfourpapers!’
  TheNilghaiwinced。Hehadnotthoughtofthis。
  ’Asitis,Ishalltakethisstuffandtearitsmall——so!’Themanuscriptflutteredinslipsdownthedarkwellofthestaircase。’Gohome,Nilghai,’
  saidDick;’gohometoyourlonelylittlebed,andleavemeinpeace。Iamabouttoturnintillto—morrow。’
  ’Why,itisn’tsevenyet!’saidTorpenhow,withamazement。
  ’Itshallbetwointhemorning,ifIchoose,’saidDick,backingtothestudiodoor。’Igotograpplewithaseriouscrisis,andIshan’twantanydinner。’
  Thedoorshutandwaslocked。
  ’Whatcanyoudowithamanlikethat?’saidtheNilghai。
  ’Leavehimalone。He’sasmadasahatter。’
  Ateleventherewasakickingonthestudiodoor。’IstheNilghaiwithyoustill?’saidavoicefromwithin。’Thentellhimhemighthavecondensedthewholeofhislumberingnonsenseintoanepigram:"Onlythefreearebond,andonlythebondarefree。"Tellhimhe’sanidiot,Torp,andtellhimI’manother。’
  ’Allright。Comeoutandhavesupper。You’resmokingonanemptystomach。’
  Therewasnoanswer。
  CHAPTERV
  ’Ihaveathousandmen,’saidhe,’Towaituponmywill,AndtowersnineupontheTyne,AndthreeupontheTill。’?
  ’AndwhatcareIforyoumen,’saidshe,’OrtowersfromTynetoTill,Sithyoumustgowithme,’shesaid,’Towaituponmywill?’
  SirHoggieandtheFairiesNEXTmorningTorpenhowfoundDicksunkindeepestreposeoftobacco。
  ’Well,madman,howd’youfeel?’
  ’Idon’tknow。I’mtryingtofindout。’
  ’Youhadmuchbetterdosomework。’
  ’Maybe;butI’minnohurry。I’vemadeadiscovery。Torp,there’stoomuchEgoinmyCosmos。’
  ’Notreally!Isthisrevelationduetomylectures,ortheNilghai’s?’
  ’Itcametomesuddenly,allonmyownaccount。MuchtoomuchEgo;
  andnowI’mgoingtowork。’
  Heturnedoverafewhalf—finishedsketches,drummedonanewcanvas,cleanedthreebrushes,setBinkietobitethetoesofthelayfigure,rattledthroughhiscollectionofarmsandaccoutrements,andthenwentoutabruptly,declaringthathehaddoneenoughfortheday。
  ’Thisispositivelyindecent,’saidTorpenhow,’andthefirsttimethatDickhaseverbrokenupalightmorning。Perhapshehasfoundoutthathehasasoul,oranartistictemperament,orsomethingequallyvaluable。
  Thatcomesofleavinghimaloneforamonth。Perhapshehasbeengoingoutofevenings。Imustlooktothis。’Herangforthebald—headedoldhousekeeper,whomnothingcouldastonishorannoy。
  ’Beeton,didMr。HeldardineoutatallwhileIwasoutoftown?’
  ’Neverlaid’isdress—clothesoutonce,sir,allthetime。Mostly’edinedin;
  but’ebroughtsomemostremarkableyounggentlemenup’ereaftertheatresonceortwice。Remarkablefancytheywas。Yougentlemenonthetopfloordoesverymuchasyoulikes,butitdoseemtome,sir,droppin’awalkin’—stickdownfiveflightso’stairsan’thengoin’downfourabreasttopickitupagainathalf—pasttwointhemornin’,singin’
  "Bringbackthewhiskey,Williedarlin,’"——notonceortwice,butscoreso’times,——isn’tcharitytotheothertenants。WhatIsayis,"Doasyouwouldbedoneby。"That’smymotto。’
  ’Ofcourse!ofcourse!I’mafraidthetopfloorisn’tthequietestinthehouse。’
  ’Imakenocomplaints,sir。IhavespoketoMr。Heldarfriendly,an’helaughed,an’didmeapictureofthemissisthatisasgoodasacolouredprint。It’asn’tthehighshineofaphotograph,butwhatIsayis,"Neverlookagift—horseinthemouth。"Mr。Heldar’sdress—clothes’aven’tbeenonhimforweeks。’
  ’Thenit’sallright,’saidTorpenhowtohimself。’Orgiesarehealthy,andDickhasaheadofhisown,butwhenitcomestowomenmakingeyesI’mnotsocertain,——Binkie,neveryoubeaman,littledorglums。They’recontrarybrutes,andtheydothingswithoutanyreason。’
  DickhadturnednorthwardacrossthePark,buthewaswalkinginthespiritonthemud—flatswithMaisie。HelaughedaloudasherememberedthedaywhenhehaddeckedAmomma’shornswiththeham—frills,andMaisie,whitewithrage,hadcuffedhim。Howlongthosefouryearsseemedinreview,andhowcloselyMaisiewasconnectedwitheveryhourofthem!Stormacrossthesea,andMaisieinagraydressonthebeach,sweepingherdrenchedhairoutofhereyesandlaughingatthehomewardraceofthefishing—smacks;hotsunshineonthemud—flats,andMaisiesniffingscornfully,withherchinintheair;Maisieflyingbeforethewindthatthreshedtheforeshoreanddrovethesandlikesmallshotaboutherears;Maisie,verycomposedandindependent,tellingliestoMrs。JennettwhileDicksupportedherwithcoarserperjuries;Maisiepickingherwaydelicatelyfromstonetostone,apistolinherhandandherteethfirm—set;andMaisieinagraydresssittingonthegrassbetweenthemouthofacannonandanoddingyellowsea—poppy。Thepicturespassedbeforehimonebyone,andthelaststayedthelongest。
  Dickwasperfectlyhappywithaquietpeacethatwasasnewtohismindasitwasforeigntohisexperiences。ItneveroccurredtohimthattheremightbeothercallsuponhistimethanloafingacrosstheParkintheforenoon。
  ’There’sagoodworkinglightnow,’hesaid,watchinghisshadowplacidly。’Somepoordeviloughttobegratefulforthis。Andthere’sMaisie。’
  ShewaswalkingtowardshimfromtheMarbleArch,andhesawthatnomannerismofhergaithadbeenchanged。ItwasgoodtofindherstillMaisie,and,sotospeak,hisnext—doorneighbour。Nogreetingpassedbetweenthem,becausetherehadbeennoneintheolddays。
  ’Whatareyoudoingoutofyourstudioatthishour?’saidDick,asonewhowasentitledtoask。
  ’Idling。Justidling。Igotangrywithachinandscrapeditout。ThenIleftitinalittleheapofpaint—chipsandcameaway。’
  ’Iknowwhatpalette—knifingmeans。Whatwasthepiccy?’
  ’Afancyheadthatwouldn’tcomeright,——horridthing!’
  ’Idon’tlikeworkingoverscrapedpaintwhenI’mdoingflesh。Thegraincomesupwoollyasthepaintdries。’
  ’Notifyouscrapeproperly。’Maisiewavedherhandtoillustratehermethods。Therewasadabofpaintonthewhitecuff。Dicklaughed。
  ’You’reasuntidyasever。’
  ’Thatcomeswellfromyou。Lookatyourowncuff。’
  ’ByJove,yes!It’sworsethanyours。Idon’tthinkwe’vemuchalteredinanything。Let’ssee,though。’HelookedatMaisiecritically。Thepalebluehazeofanautumndaycreptbetweenthetree—trunksoftheParkandmadeabackgroundforthegraydress,theblackvelvettoqueabovetheblackhair,andtheresoluteprofile。
  ’No,there’snothingchanged。Howgooditis!D’yourememberwhenI
  fastenedyourhairintothesnapofahand—bag?’
  Maisienodded,withatwinkleinhereyes,andturnedherfullfacetoDick。
  ’Waitaminute,’saidhe。’Thatmouthisdownatthecornersalittle。
  Who’sbeenworryingyou,Maisie?’
  ’Noonebutmyself。Ineverseemtogetonwithmywork,andyetItryhardenough,andKamisays————’
  ’"Continuez,mesdemoiselles。Continueztoujours,mesenfants。"Kamiisdepressing。Ibegyourpardon。’
  ’Yes,that’swhathesays。HetoldmelastsummerthatIwasdoingbetterandhe’dletmeexhibitthisyear。’
  ’Notinthisplace,surely?’
  ’Ofcoursenot。TheSalon。’
  ’Youflyhigh。’
  ’I’vebeenbeatingmywingslongenough。Wheredoyouexhibit,Dick?’
  ’Idon’texhibit。Isell。’
  ’Whatisyourline,then?’
  ’Haven’tyouheard?’Dick’seyesopened。Wasthisthingpossible?Hecastaboutforsomemeansofconviction。TheywerenotfarfromtheMarbleArch。’ComeupOxfordStreetalittleandI’llshowyou。’
  Asmallknotofpeoplestoodroundaprint—shopthatDickknewwell。
  ’Somereproductionofmyworkinside,’hesaid,withsuppressedtriumph。Neverbeforehadsuccesstastedsosweetuponthetongue。’YouseethesortofthingsIpaint。D’youlikeit?’
  Maisielookedatthewildwhirlingrushofafield—batterygoingintoactionunderfire。Twoartillery—menstoodbehindherinthecrowd。
  ’They’vechuckedtheofflead—’orse’saidonetotheother。’’E’storeupawful,butthey’remakin’goodtimewiththeothers。Thatlead—driverdrivesbetternoryou,Tom。See’owcunnin’’e’snursin’’is’orse。’
  ’NumberThree’llbeoffthelimber,nextjolt,’wastheanswer。
  ’No,’ewon’t。See’ow’isfoot’sbracedagainsttheiron?’E’sallright。’
  DickwatchedMaisie’sfaceandswelledwithjoy——fine,rank,vulgartriumph。Shewasmoreinterestedinthelittlecrowdthaninthepicture。
  Thatwassomethingthatshecouldunderstand。
  ’AndIwanteditso!Oh,Ididwantitso!’shesaidatlast,underherbreath。
  ’Me,——allme!’saidDick,placidly。’Lookattheirfaces。Ithits’em。Theydon’tknowwhatmakestheireyesandmouthsopen;butIknow。AndI
  knowmywork’sright。’
  ’Yes。Isee。Oh,whatathingtohavecometoone!’
  ’Cometoone,indeed!Ihadtogooutandlookforit。Whatdoyouthink?’
  ’Icallitsuccess。Tellmehowyougotit。’
  TheyreturnedtothePark,andDickdeliveredhimselfofthesagaofhisowndoings,withallthearroganceofayoungmanspeakingtoawoman。
  Fromthebeginninghetoldthetale,theI——I——I’sflashingthroughtherecordsastelegraph—polesflypastthetraveller。Maisielistenedandnoddedherhead。Thehistoriesofstrifeandprivationdidnotmoveherahair’s—breadth。Attheendofeachcantohewouldconclude,’Andthatgavemesomenotionofhandlingcolour,’orlight,orwhateveritmightbethathehadsetouttopursueandunderstand。Heledherbreathlessacrosshalftheworld,speakingashehadneverspokeninhislifebefore。
  Andintheflood—tideofhisexaltationtherecameuponhimagreatdesiretopickupthismaidenwhonoddedherheadandsaid,’Iunderstand。Goon,’——topickherupandcarryherawaywithhim,becauseshewasMaisie,andbecausesheunderstood,andbecauseshewashisright,andawomantobedesiredaboveallwomen。
  Thenhecheckedhimselfabruptly。’AndsoItookallIwanted,’hesaid,’andIhadtofightforit。Nowyoutell。’
  Maisie’stalewasalmostasgrayasherdress。Itcoveredyearsofpatienttoilbackedbysavagepridethatwouldnotbebrokenthoughtdealerslaughed,andfogsdelayedwork,andKamiwasunkindandevensarcastic,andgirlsinotherstudioswerepainfullypolite。Ithadafewbrightspots,inpicturesacceptedatprovincialexhibitions,butitwoundupwiththeoftrepeatedwail,’Andsoyousee,Dick,Ihadnosuccess,thoughIworkedsohard。’
  ThenpityfilledDick。EventhushadMaisiespokenwhenshecouldnothitthebreakwater,halfanhourbeforeshehadkissedhim。Andthathadhappenedyesterday。
  ’Nevermind,’hesaid。’I’lltellyousomething,ifyou’llbelieveit。’Thewordswereshapingthemselvesoftheirownaccord。’Thewholething,lock,stock,andbarrel,isn’tworthonebigyellowsea—poppybelowFortKeeling。’
  Maisieflushedalittle。’It’sallverywellforyoutotalk,butyou’vehadthesuccessandIhaven’t。’
  ’Letmetalk,then。Iknowyou’llunderstand。Maisie,dear,itsoundsabitabsurd,but5thosetenyearsneverexisted,andI’vecomebackagain。Itreallyisjustthesame。Can’tyousee?You’realonenowandI’malone。
  What’stheuseofworrying?Cometomeinstead,darling。’
  Maisiepokedthegravelwithherparasol。Theyweresittingonabench。
  ’Iunderstand,’shesaidslowly。’ButI’vegotmyworktodo,andImustdoit。’
  ’Doitwithme,then,dear。Iwon’tinterrupt。’
  ’No,Icouldn’t。It’smywork,——mine,——mine,——mine!I’vebeenaloneallmylifeinmyself,andI’mnotgoingtobelongtoanybodyexceptmyself。I
  rememberthingsaswellasyoudo,butthatdoesn’tcount。Wewerebabiesthen,andwedidn’tknowwhatwasbeforeus。Dick,don’tbeselfish。IthinkIseemywaytoalittlesuccessnextyear。Don’ttakeitawayfromme。’
  ’Ibegyourpardon,darling。It’smyfaultforspeakingstupidly。Ican’texpectyoutothrowupallyourlifejustbecauseI’mback。I’llgotomyownplaceandwaitalittle。’
  ’But,Dick,Idon’twantyouto——go——outof——mylife,nowyou’vejustcomeback。’
  ’I’matyourorders;forgiveme。’Dickdevouredthetroubledlittlefacewithhiseyes。Therewastriumphinthem,becausehecouldnotconceivethatMaisieshouldrefusesoonerorlatertolovehim,sincehelovedher。
  ’It’swrongofme,’saidMaisie,moreslowlythanbefore;’it’swrongandselfish;but,oh,I’vebeensolonely!No,youmisunderstand。NowI’veseenyouagain,——it’sabsurd,butIwanttokeepyouinmylife。’
  ’Naturally。Webelong。’
  ’Wedon’t;butyoualwaysunderstoodme,andthereissomuchinmyworkthatyoucouldhelpmein。Youknowthingsandthewaysofdoingthings。Youmust。’
  ’Ido,Ifancy,orelseIdon’tknowmyself。Thenyouwon’tcaretolosesightofmealtogether,and——youwantmetohelpyouinyourwork?’
  ’Yes;butremember,Dick,nothingwillevercomeofit。That’swhyIfeelsoselfish。Can’tthingsstayastheyare?Idowantyourhelp。’
  ’Youshallhaveit。Butlet’sconsider。Imustseeyourpicsfirst,andoverhaulyoursketches,andfindoutaboutyourtendencies。Youshouldseewhatthepaperssayaboutmytendencies!ThenI’llgiveyougoodadvice,andyoushallpaintaccording。Isn’tthatit,Maisie?’
  AgaintherewastriumphinDick’seye。
  ’It’stoogoodofyou,——muchtoogood。Becauseyouareconsolingyourselfwithwhatwillneverhappen,andIknowthat,andyetIwanttokeepyou。Don’tblamemelater,please。’
  ’I’mgoingintothematterwithmyeyesopen。MoreovertheQueencandonowrong。Itisn’tyourselfishnessthatimpressesme。It’syouraudacityinproposingtomakeuseofme。’
  ’Pooh!You’reonlyDick,——andaprint—shop。’
  ’Verygood:that’sallIam。But,Maisie,youbelieve,don’tyou,thatIloveyou?Idon’twantyoutohaveanyfalsenotionsaboutbrothersandsisters。’
  Maisielookedupforamomentanddroppedhereyes。
  ’It’sabsurd,but——Ibelieve。IwishIcouldsendyouawaybeforeyougetangrywithme。But——butthegirlthatliveswithmeisred—haired,andanimpressionist,andallournotionsclash。’
  ’Sodoours,Ithink。Nevermind。Threemonthsfromto—dayweshallbelaughingatthistogether。’
  Maisieshookherheadmournfully。’Iknewyouwouldn’tunderstand,anditwillonlyhurtyoumorewhenyoufindout。Lookatmyface,Dick,andtellmewhatyousee。’
  Theystoodupandfacedeachotherforamoment。Thefogwasgathering,anditstifledtheroarofthetrafficofLondonbeyondtherailings。Dickbroughtallhispainfullyacquiredknowledgeoffacestobearontheeyes,mouth,andchinunderneaththeblackvelvettoque。
  ’It’sthesameMaisie,andit’sthesameme,’hesaid。’We’vebothnicelittlewillsofourown,andoneorotherofushastobebroken。Nowaboutthefuture。Imustcomeandseeyourpicturessomeday,——Isupposewhenthered—hairedgirlisonthepremises。’
  ’Sundaysaremybesttimes。YoumustcomeonSundays。TherearesuchheapsofthingsIwanttotalkaboutandaskyouradviceabout。NowI
  mustgetbacktowork。’
  ’TrytofindoutbeforenextSundaywhatIam,’saidDick。’Don’ttakemywordforanythingI’vetoldyou。Good—bye,darling,andblessyou。’
  Maisiestoleawaylikealittlegraymouse。Dickwatchedhertillshewasoutofsight,buthedidnothearhersaytoherself,verysoberly,’I’mawretch,——ahorrid,selfishwretch。Butit’sDick,andDickwillunderstand。’
  Noonehasyetexplainedwhatactuallyhappenswhenanirresistibleforcemeetstheimmovablepost,thoughmanyhavethoughtdeeply,evenasDickthought。HetriedtoassurehimselfthatMaisiewouldbeledinafewweeksbyhismerepresenceanddiscoursetoabetterwayofthinking。Thenherememberedmuchtoodistinctlyherfaceandallthatwaswrittenonit。
  ’IfIknowanythingofheads,’hesaid,’there’severythinginthatfacebutlove。Ishallhavetoputthatinmyself;andthatchinandmouthwon’tbewonfornothing。Butshe’sright。Sheknowswhatshewants,andshe’sgoingtogetit。Whatinsolence!Me!Ofallthepeopleinthewideworld,touseme!Butthenshe’sMaisie。There’snogettingoverthatfact;andit’sgoodtoseeheragain。Thisbusinessmusthavebeensimmeringatthebackofmyheadforyears……She’llusemeasIusedBinatatPortSaid。
  She’squiteright。Itwillhurtalittle。IshallhavetoseehereverySunday,——likeayoungmancourtingahousemaid。She’ssuretocomearound;andyet——thatmouthisn’tayieldingmouth。Ishallbewantingtokissherallthetime,andIshallhavetolookatherpictures,——Idon’tevenknowwhatsortofworkshedoesyet,——andIshallhavetotalkaboutArt,——Woman’sArt!Therefore,particularlyandperpetually,damnallvarietiesofArt。Itdidmeagoodturnonce,andnowit’sinmyway。I’llgohomeanddosomeArt。’
  Half—waytothestudio,Dickwassmittenwithaterriblethought。Thefigureofasolitarywomaninthefogsuggestedit。
  ’She’sallaloneinLondon,withared—hairedimpressionistgirl,whoprobablyhasthedigestionofanostrich。Mostred—hairedpeoplehave。
  Maisie’sabiliouslittlebody。They’lleatlikelonewomen,——mealsatallhours,andteawithallmeals。IrememberhowthestudentsinParisusedtopigalong。Shemayfallillatanyminute,andIshan’tbeabletohelp。
  Whew!thisistentimesworsethanowningawife。’
  Torpenhowenteredthestudioatdusk,andlookedatDickwitheyesfulloftheausterelovethatspringsupbetweenmenwhohavetuggedatthesameoartogetherandareyokedbycustomanduseandtheintimaciesoftoil。Thisisagoodlove,and,sinceitallows,andevenencourages,strife,recrimination,andbrutalsincerity,doesnotdie,butgrows,andisproofagainstanyabsenceandevilconduct。
  DickwassilentafterhehandedTorpenhowthefilledpipeofcouncil。HethoughtofMaisieandherpossibleneeds。ItwasanewthingtothinkofanybodybutTorpenhow,whocouldthinkforhimself。Hereatlastwasanoutletforthatcashbalance。HecouldadornMaisiebarbaricallywithjewelry,——athickgoldnecklaceroundthatlittleneck,braceletsupontheroundedarms,andringsofpriceuponherhands,——thiecool,temperate,ringlesshandsthathehadtakenbetweenhisown。Itwasanabsurdthought,forMaisiewouldnotevenallowhimtoputoneringononefinger,andshewouldlaughatgoldentrappings。Itwouldbebettertositwithherquietlyinthedusk,hisarmaroundherneckandherfaceonhisshoulder,asbefittedhusbandandwife。Torpenhow’sbootscreakedthatnight,andhisstrongvoicejarred。Dick’sbrowscontractedandhemurmuredanevilwordbecausehehadtakenallhissuccessasarightandpartpaymentforpastdiscomfort,andnowhewascheckedinhisstridebyawomanwhoadmittedallthesuccessanddidnotinstantlycareforhim。
  ’Isay,oldman,’saidTorpenhow,whohadmadeoneortwovainattemptsatconversation,’Ihaven’tputyourbackupbyanythingI’vesaidlately,haveI?’
  ’You!No。Howcouldyou?’
  ’Liveroutoforder?’
  ’Thetrulyhealthymandoesn’tknowhehasaliver。I’monlyabitworriedaboutthingsingeneral。Isupposeit’smysoul。’
  ’Thetrulyhealthymandoesn’tknowhehasasoul。Whatbusinesshaveyouwithluxuriesofthatkind?’
  ’Itcameofitself。Who’sthemanthatsaysthatwe’reallislandsshoutingliestoeachotheracrossseasofmisunderstanding?’
  ’He’sright,whoeverheis,——exceptaboutthemisunderstanding。Idon’tthinkwecouldmisunderstandeachother。’
  Thebluesmokecurledbackfromtheceilinginclouds。ThenTorpenhow,insinuatingly——
  ’Dick,isitawoman?’
  ’Behangedifit’sanythingremotelyresemblingawoman;andifyoubegintotalklikethat,I’llhireared—brickstudiowithwhitepainttrimmings,andbegoniasandpetuniasandblueHungariastoplayamongthree—and—sixpennypot—palms,andI’llmountallmypicsinaniline—dyeplushplasters,andI’llinviteeverywomanwhomaundersoverwhatherguide—bookstellherisArt,andyoushallreceive’em,Torp,——inasnuff—brownvelvetcoatwithyellowtrousersandanorangetie。You’lllikethat?’
  ’Toothin,Dick。Abettermanthanyouoncedeniedwithcursingandswearing。You’veoverdoneit,justashedid。It’snobusinessofmine,ofcourse,butit’scomfortingtothinkthatsomewhereunderthestarsthere’ssavingupforyouatremendousthrashing。Whetherit’llcomefromheavenorearth,Idon’tknow,butit’sboundtocomeandbreakyouupalittle。Youwanthammering。’
  Dickshivered。’Allright,’saidhe。’Whenthisislandisdisintegrated,itwillcallforyou。’
  ’Ishallcomeroundthecornerandhelptodisintegrateitsomemore。
  We’retalkingnonsense。Comealongtoatheatre。’?
  CHAPTERVI
  ’Andyoumayleadathousandmen,Noreverdrawtherein,ButereyeleadtheFaeryQueen’Twillburstyourheartintwain。’?
  Hehasslippedhisfootfromthestirrup—bar,Thebridlefromhishand,AndheisboundbyhandandfootTotheQueeno’Faery—land。
  SirHoggieandtheFairies。
  SOMEweekslater,onaveryfoggySunday,DickwasreturningacrosstheParktohisstudio。’This,’hesaid,’isevidentlythethrashingthatTorpmeant。IthurtsmorethanIexpected;buttheQueencandonowrong;andshecertainlyhassomenotionofdrawing。’
  HehadjustfinishedaSundayvisittoMaisie,——alwaysunderthegreeneyesofthered—hairedimpressionistgirl,whomhelearnedtohateatsight,——andwastinglingwithakeensenseofshame。SundayafterSunday,puttingonhisbestclothes,hehadwalkedovertotheuntidyhousenorthofthePark,firsttoseeMaisie’spictures,andthentocriticiseandadviseuponthemasherealisedthattheywereproductionsonwhichadvicewouldnotbewasted。SundayafterSunday,andhislovegrewwitheachvisit,hehadbeencompelledtocramhisheartbackfrombetweenhislipswhenitpromptedhimtokissMaisieseveraltimesandverymuchindeed。SundayafterSunday,theheadabovethehearthadwarnedhimthatMaisiewasnotyetattainable,andthatitwouldbebettertotalkasconnectedlyaspossibleuponthemysteriesofthecraftthatwasallinalltoher。Thereforeitwashisfatetoendureweeklytortureinthestudiobuiltoutovertheclammybackgardenofafrailstuffylittlevillawherenothingwaseverinitsrightplaceandnobodyeverycalled,——toendureandtowatchMaisiemovingtoandfrowiththeteacups。Heabhorredtea,but,sinceitgavehimalittlelongertimeinherpresence,hedrankitdevoutly,andthered—hairedgirlsatinanuntidyheapandeyedhimwithoutspeaking。Shewasalwayswatchinghim。
  Once,andonlyonce,whenshehadleftthestudio,Maisieshowedhimanalbumthatheldafewpoorcuttingsfromprovincialpapers,——thebriefestofhurriednotesonsomeofherpicturessenttooutlyingexhibitions。Dickstoopedandkissedthepaint—smudgedthumbontheopenpage。’Oh,mylove,mylove,’hemuttered,’doyouvaluethesethings?Chuck’emintothewaste—paperbasket!’
  ’NottillIgetsomethingbetter,’saidMaisie,shuttingthebook。
  ThenDick,movedbynorespectforhispublicandaverydeepregardforthemaiden,diddeliberatelypropose,inordertosecuremoreofthesecovetedcuttings,thatheshouldpaintapicturewhichMaisieshouldsign。
  ’That’schildish,’saidMaisie,’andIdidn’tthinkitofyou。Itmustbemywork。Mine,——mine,——mine!’
  ’Goanddesigndecorativemedallionsforrichbrewers’houses。Youarethoroughlygoodatthat。’Dickwassickandsavage。
  ’Betterthingsthanmedallions,Dick,’wastheanswer,intonesthatrecalledagray—eyedatom’sfearlessspeechtoMrs。Jennett。Dickwouldhaveabasedhimselfutterly,butthatothergirltrailedin。
  NextSundayhelaidatMaisie’sfeetsmallgiftsofpencilsthatcouldalmostdrawofthemselvesandcoloursinwhosepermanencehebelieved,andhewasostentatiouslyattentivetotheworkinhand。Itdemanded,amongotherthings,anexpositionofthefaiththatwasinhim。
  Torpenhow’shairwouldhavestoodonendhadheheardthefluencywithwhichDickpreachedhisowngospelofArt。
  Amonthbefore,Dickwouldhavebeenequallyastonished;butitwasMaisie’swillandpleasure,andhedraggedhiswordstogethertomakeplaintohercomprehensionallthathadbeenhiddentohimselfofthewhysandwhereforesofwork。Thereisnottheleastdifficultyindoingathingifyouonlyknowhowtodoit;thetroubleistoexplainyourmethod。
  ’IcouldputthisrightifIhadabrushinmyhand,’saidDick,despairingly,overthemodellingofachinthatMaisiecomplainedwouldnot’lookflesh,’——itwasthesamechinthatshehadscrapedoutwiththepaletteknife,——’butIfinditalmostimpossibletoteachyou。There’saqueergrin,DutchtouchaboutyourpaintingthatIlike;butI’veanotionthatyou’reweakindrawing。Youforeshortenasthoughyouneverusedthemodel,andyou’vecaughtKami’spastywayofdealingwithfleshinshadow。Then,again,thoughyoudon’tknowityourself,youshirkhardwork。Supposeyouspendsomeofyourtimeonlinelone。Linedoesn’tallowofshirking。Oilsdo,andthreesquareinchesofflashy,trickystuffinthecornerofapicsometimescarryabadthingoff,——asIknow。That’simmoral。Doline—workforalittlewhile,andthenIcantellmoreaboutyourpowers,asoldKamiusedtosay。’
  Maisieprotested;shedidnotcareforthepureline。
  ’Iknow,’saidDick。’Youwanttodoyourfancyheadswithabunchofflowersatthebaseofthenecktohidebadmodelling。’Thered—hairedgirllaughedalittle。’Youwanttodolandscapeswithcattleknee—deepingrasstohidebaddrawing。Youwanttodoagreatdealmorethanyoucando。Youhavesenseofcolour,butyouwantform。Colour’sagift,——putitasideandthinknomoreaboutit,——butformyoucanbedrilledinto。
  Now,allyourfancyheads——andsomeofthemareverygood——willkeepyouexactlywhereyouare。Withlineyoumustgoforwardorbackward,anditwillshowupallyourweaknesses。’
  ’Butotherpeople————’beganMaisie。
  ’Youmustn’tmindwhatotherpeopledo。Iftheirsoulswereyoursoul,itwouldbedifferent。Youstandandfallbyyourownwork,remember,andit’swasteoftimetothinkofanyoneelseinthisbattle。’
  Dickpaused,andthelongingthathadbeensoresolutelyputawaycamebackintohiseyes。HelookedatMaisie,andthelookaskedasplainlyaswords,WasitnottimetoleaveallthisbarrenwildernessofcanvasandcounselandjoinhandswithLifeandLove?
  MaisieassentedtothenewprogrammeofschoolingsoadorablythatDickcouldhardlyrestrainhimselffrompickingherupthenandthereandcarryingherofftothenearestregistrar’soffice。Itwastheimplicitobediencetothespokenwordandtheblankindifferencetotheunspokendesirethatbaffledandbuffetedhissoul。Heheldauthorityinthathouse,——authoritylimited,indeed,toone—halfofoneafternooninseven,butveryrealwhileitlasted。Maisiehadlearnedtoappealtohimonmanysubjects,fromtheproperpackingofpicturestotheconditionofasmokychimney。Thered—hairedgirlneverconsultedhimaboutanything。
  Ontheotherhand,sheacceptedhisappearanceswithoutprotest,andwatchedhimalways。Hediscoveredthatthemealsoftheestablishmentwereirregularandfragmentary。Theydependedchieflyontea,pickles,andbiscuit,ashehadsuspectedfromthebeginning。Thegirlsweresupposedtomarketweekandweekabout,buttheylived,withthehelpofacharwoman,ascasuallyastheyoungravens。Maisiespentmostofherincomeonmodels,andtheothergirlrevelledinapparatusasrefinedasherworkwasrough。Armedwithknowledge,dear—boughtfromtheDocks,DickwarnedMaisiethattheendofsemi—starvationmeantthecripplingofpowertowork,whichwasconsiderablyworsethandeath。
  Maisietookthewarning,andgavemorethoughttowhatsheateanddrank。Whenhistroublereturneduponhim,asitgenerallydidinthelongwintertwilights,theremembranceofthatlittleactofdomesticauthorityandhiscoercionwithahearth—brushofthesmokydrawing—roomchimneystungDicklikeawhip—lash。
  Heconceivedthatthismemorywouldbetheextremeofhissufferings,tilloneSunday,thered—hairedgirlannouncedthatshewouldmakeastudyofDick’shead,andthathewouldbegoodenoughtositstill,and——quiteasanafterthought——lookatMaisie。Hesat,becausehecouldnotwellrefuse,andforthespaceofhalfanhourhereflectedonallthepeopleinthepastwhomhehadlaidopenforthepurposesofhisowncraft。HerememberedBinatmostdistinctly,——thatBinatwhohadoncebeenanartistandtalkedaboutdegradation。
  Itwasthemerestmonochromeroughinginofahead,butitpresentedthedumbwaiting,thelonging,and,aboveall,thehopelessenslavementoftheman,inaspiritofbittermockery。
  ’I’llbuyit,’saidDick,promptly,’atyourownprice。’
  ’Mypriceistoohigh,butIdaresayyou’llbeasgratefulif————’Thewetsketch,flutteredfromthegirl’shandandfellintotheashesofthestudiostove。Whenshepickeditupitwashopelesslysmudged。
  ’Oh,it’sallspoiled!’saidMaisie。’AndIneversawit。Wasitlike?’
  ’Thankyou,’saidDickunderhisbreathtothered—hairedgirl,andheremovedhimselfswiftly。
  ’Howthatmanhatesme!’saidthegirl。’Andhowhelovesyou,Maisie!’
  ’Whatnonsense?IknewDick’sveryfondofme,buthehadhisworktodo,andIhavemine。’
  ’Yes,heisfondofyou,andIthinkheknowsthereissomethinginimpressionism,afterall。Maisie,can’tyousee?’
  ’See?Seewhat?’
  ’Nothing;only,IknowthatifIcouldgetanymantolookatmeasthatmanlooksatyou,I’d——Idon’tknowwhatI’ddo。Buthehatesme。Oh,howhehatesme!’
  Shewasnotaltogethercorrect。Dick’shatredwastemperedwithgratitudeforafewmoments,andthenheforgotthegirlentirely。Onlythesenseofshameremained,andhewasnursingitacrosstheParkinthefog。’There’llbeanexplosiononeofthesedays,’hesaidwrathfully。’Butitisn’tMaisie’sfault;she’sright,quiteright,asfarassheknows,andI
  can’tblameher。Thisbusinesshasbeengoingonforthreemonthsnearly。
  Threemonths!——anditcostmetenyears’knockingabouttogetatthenotion,themerestrawnotion,ofmywork。That’strue;butthenIdidn’thavepins,drawing—pins,andpalette—knives,stuckintomeeverySunday。
  Oh,mylittledarling,ifeverIbreakyou,somebodywillhaveaverybadtimeofit。No,shewon’t。I’dbeasbigafoolaboutherasIamnow。I’llpoisonthatred—hairedgirlonmywedding—day,——she’sunwholesome,——andnowI’llpassonthesepresentbadtimestoTorp。’
  TorpenhowhadbeenmovedtolectureDickmorethanoncelatelyonthesinoflevity,andDickandlistenedandrepliednotaword。IntheweeksbetweenthefirstfewSundaysofhisdisciplinehehadflunghimselfsavagelyintohiswork,resolvedthatMaisieshouldatleastknowthefullstretchofhispowers。ThenhehadtaughtMaisiethatshemustnotpaytheleastattentiontoanyworkoutsideherown,andMaisiehadobeyedhimalltoowell。Shetookhiscounsels,butwasnotinterestedinhispictures。
  ’Yourthingssmelloftobaccoandblood,’shesaidonce。’Can’tyoudoanythingexceptsoldiers?’
  ’Icoulddoaheadofyouthatwouldstartleyou,’thoughtDick,——thiswasbeforethered—hairedgirlhadbroughthimundertheguillotine,——butheonlysaid,’Iamverysorry,’andharrowedTorpenhow’ssoulthateveningwithblasphemiesagainstArt。Later,insensiblyandtoalargeextentagainsthisownwill,heceasedtointeresthimselfinhisownwork。