A Great Success

haviour in that lady's house, and the sudden growth in her own mind of a quite unmanageable dislike, were not to be defended in one who prided herself on a general temper of

ior to personal slights, and enjoy what could be enj

hrough an eyeglass, decided to devote himself to the débutante on his other side, a Lady Rosamond, who was ready to chatter hunting and horses to him through the whole of dinner. The girl was not pretty, but she was fresh and gay, and Doris, tired with "much serving," envied her spirits, her evident assumption that the world only existed for her to laugh and ride in, her childish unspoken claim to the best of everything-clothes, food, amusements, lovers. Doris on her side

It was she who drew him into political or literary discussion with the Cabinet Minister, so that the neighbours of each stayed their own talk to listen; she who would insist on his repeating "that story you told me at Crosby Ledgers;" who attacked him abruptly-rudely even, as she had done in the country-so that he might

ing past-hating the advent of the new and glittering future. As she sat at Lady Dunstable's table, she seemed to see the little room in their Kensington house, with the big hole in the carpet, the piles of papers and books, the reading-lamp that would smoke, her work-basket, the house-books, Arthur pulling contentedly at his pipe, the fire crackling between them, his shabby coat, her shabby dress-Bliss!-compared to this splendid scene, with the great Vandycks looking down on the dinner-table, the crowd of guests and servants, the costly food, the dresses, and the diamonds-with, in the distance, her Arthur, divided, as it seemed, from her by a growing chasm, never remembering to throw her a look or a smile, drinking in a tide of flattery he would once h

t was hateful, both to wifely feeling and natural vanity, that she should now be the victim of the moment, and should know no more than her predecessors how to defend herself. "Why can't I be cool and cutting-pay her back when she is rude, and contradict her when she's absurd?

s, conversation-"Mrs. So-and-so? Impossible woman! Oh, one doesn't mind seeing her graze occasio

t he turned round to look at her. But she was absorbed in the menu, which

ows clearly thought that his wife was behaving very badly. Lady Dunstable's efforts on his behalf had already done him substantial service; she had introduced him to all kinds of people likely to help him, intellectually and financially; and to help him was to help Doris. Why would she be such a litt

Lady Dunsta

arty next Friday at 8.15-to meet the President of the Duma, and another Russian, an inti

sinc

L DUN

n't like it, Doris," said Meadow

not pleasing to a husband's ears. She was busy at the moment in packing up the American proofs of the

xceptional!" said Meadows, pa

aid Doris, in the same tone. "Oh, go, of cour

r times a week. Doris was occasionally asked and sometimes went. But she was suffering all the time from an initial discouragement and depression, which took away self-reliance, and left her awkwardly conscious. She struggled, but in vain. The world into which Arthur was being so suddenly swept was strange to her, and in many ways antipathetic; but had she been happy and in spirits she could have grappled with it, or rather she could have lost herself in Arthu

*

ert, for which she had herself sent them tickets, Lady Dunst

iling, to Arthur Meadows, as she swept past them in the corr

can't persuade

ll, why not?"-just that she might see the change in those large, malicious eyes-might catch their owner unawares, for once. But, as usual, nerve failed her. She

his clothes ready, and affected a uniformly cheerful and indifferent demeanour. On Arthur's last evening at home, however, he came suddenly into the

t go if you're going

rned u

e wh

ient reply. "You know very well th

arthrug, declared that, as it was not a case of her going to Scotland, but of his, she was entirely indiffe

by his socks and shirts, a trim, determined little figure-declining to admit that she was angry, or jealous, or offended, or anything of the kind. Would he please

s silent, obstinate demon of wounded love and pride, never would she have believed them! She moved under its grip like an automaton. She would not quarrel with Arthur. But as no soft confession was possible, and no mending or undoing of what had happened, to la

ng. Then, bidding him a smiling good night, she fell as

im, which made both his charm and his weakness, had already scattered his compunctions of the preceding day, and was now aglow with the sheer joy of holiday and change. He had worked very hard, he had had a great success, and now he was going to live for thre

ter is gone," she said to herself. "I have no moral character. I thought I was a sensible, educated woman; and I am just an ''Arriet,' in a temper with her ''Arry.' Well-courage! Three wee

ugust, the house was to be "spring-cleaned," and Doris had made a compact with her sulky maids that when it began she would do no more than sleep and breakfast

; still less did he dare express it to Doris. All he could do was to befriend her and make her welcome at the studio, to advise her about her illustrations, and correct her drawing when it needed it. He himself was an old-fashioned artist, quite content to be "mid" or even "early" Victorian. He still cultivated the art of historical painting, and was still as anxious as any contemporary of Frith to tell a story. And as his manner was no less behind the age than his material

ts, made her way up to the studio, for some hours' work on the last three or four

all this time? I thought yo

ng something of the great world, and-mildly-"doing" the season. Arthur was now continuing the season in Scotla

Charles, "so you'v

admitt

ou lik

on her c

ed it, if I'd made a success

But I couldn't stand it. Dress-clothes are the deuce! And besides, talk now is not what it used to be. The clever men who can say smart things are too clever to say them. Nobody wants 'em! So let's 'cultivate our garden,' my

n experimentalists who have made the Slade School famous. The subject was, it seemed, to be a visit paid to Joanna the mad and widowed mother of Charles V., at Tordesillas, by the envoys of Henry VII., who were thus allowed by Ferdinand, the Queen's father, to convince themselves that the Queen's profound melanchol

I've got the very thing! She comes to-day for the first time. You'll see her! Before she comes, I must scrape out

and where did

ear! Never mind. Her appearance is magnifi

m. The comic haste and relief with which he had now transferred her to Bentley lost nothing in Bentley's telling. Of course she had "a fiend of a temper." "

is Sp

ughter of a jeweller in Hatton Garden, and her father an English bank clerk. The

a professi

e. She is a writer-Heaven save the mark!-and I have to p

wri

m"-his eyes twinkled-"I say nothing-but this. Watch her hats! She has the reputation-in certain circles-of being the best-hatte

rri

ieve that her real name is Flink-Elena Flink. And I should say-very much on the look-out for a husband; and meanwhile very muc

with her own preparations. "I was hopi

sketch of one of her "subjects" under his eyes-"and that bit of perspective in the corner wants a lot of seeing to. Look here!" The old Academician

, in response to Bentley's "Come in!" a girl of four or five and twenty, in a blue linen dress and a shady hat, who nodded a quiet "Good afte

aising his voice, "let me introdu

she had a charming tired face, beautiful eyes on which she had j

eral budgets came along, I can't keep my own accounts, or send in my own income-tax returns-dash them! So she does th

*

y Scotch moor. A lady on a Scotch pony-she understood that Lady Dunstable often rode with the shooters-and a tall man walking beside her, carrying, not a gun, but a walking stick:-that was the vision in the crystal. Arthur was too bad a shot to be tolerated in the Dunstable circle; had indeed wisely announced from the beginning that he

ed her to see them en noir. But the sudden rush of a certain section of them to crowd Arthur's lectures had been cer

representative of thousands more; all greedy, able, domineering, inevitably getting what they wanted, and more than they deserved; against whom the starved and virtuous intellectuals of the profes

the passage leading from the small h

e sh

a stout lady in white, surmounted by a huge black hat with a hearse-like array of plumes; and, behind her, a tall and willowy youth, with-so far as could be seen through th

d a very large fan, with the handle of which she had been rapping the door; and

alone!" she said in a

ame Vavasour," said Bentley

and bowed, only to receive

spoke the artist looked

countenance changes, and you cannot do it justice. He w

Bentley, smiling. "An

ey," said Madame Vavasour, advancing with a stately step into

r eyes met-his full of suppressed mirth. The son!-the unsatisfactory son! Doris

nguished persons, holiday-making statesmen, peers, diplomats, writers, and the like. Here was a humb

ved sharply, so as to look at the young man. But in the bustle of Madame Vavasour's

gic eyes to the artist. "I sat up half the night writing. I had a subject which

the young man,

e youth sat down, on the very low chair to which she p

manded. "You have no idea

preliminary sketches of her head and bust, and proceeded to pose her. She accepted his directions with a curious pettishness, as though they annoyed her; and presently complained loudly that

ewhat scandalously wanting at the throat and breast, and very frayed and dirty round the skirt. Her feet, which were large and plump, were cased in extremely pointed shoes with large paste buckles; and as she crossed them on the stool provided for them she showed a considerable amount of rather clumsy ankle. The hands too were large, common, and ill-kept, and the wrists laden with bracelets. She was adorned indeed with a great deal of jewellery, including some startling earrings of a bright green stone. The hat, wh

had, however, two manners, and two kinds of conversation, which she adopted with the young man and the Academician respectively. Her talk with the youth suggested the jealous ascendency of a coarse-minded woman. She occasionally flattered him, but more generally she teased or "ragged" him. She seemed indeed to feel him securely in her grip; so that there was no need to pose for him, as-figuratively as well as physically-she posed for Bentley. To the artist she gave her opinions on pictures or books-on the novels of Mr. Wells, or the plays of Mr. Bernard Shaw-in the languid or drawling tone of accepted authority; dropping every now and then into a broad cockney accent, which produced a startling effect, like that of unexpected garlic in cookery. Bentley's gravity was often

over, Uncle Charles, all smiles and satisfac

e time, and returned,

she's offered to recite next time she comes! Good Heavens-how can I get out of it? I believe, Doris,

nly came forward. She loo

y. "Can't somebody stop that

harles looked at

ts?" said t

Lady Dun

hem?" excla

last year. He didn't like Lady Dunstable. He quarrelled with her, because-because she once did a very rude thing