Fenwick's Career

are you

, pa

form of his daughter. The April day was receding, and Eugénie de Pastourelles was sitting very still, her hands lightly clasped upon a letter which lay outspread u

ly. 'I say, Eugénie, th

fellow

e of the later rooms. Lucky dog! Millais came up and spoke to me about him-said he heard we had discovered him. Of course, there's lots of criticism. Drawing and design, modern and realistic-the whole painting method, traditional and old-fashioned, except for so

, proceeded to 'sip' his tea, held in both hands, according to an approved digestive method-ten seconds to a

ord Findon wrote to her every day; they discussed her letters when they arrived with all proper égards; and, for the rest, enjoyed their tête-à-tête, and never dreamed of missing her. Tête-à-tête, indeed, it scarcely was; for there was still another daughter in the house, whom Madame de Pastourelles-her much

ll as affection. She withdrew her hand from her fat

a, it's time you p

crossing his knees luxuriously, as the tea f

es will go up,' said Eugénie, calmly. 'I advise you to a

ndon, hastily, swallowing a sip of tea under t

apa! Come-how mu

my dear, and then expect to get paid for it as if he'd been com

yly, replenishing his cup. 'I consider

oke, Eugénie, this sipping business-Where were we? Oh, well, of course I knew we

eosis of my frock alone is worth the money. Two

e had put on it! The young man won't starve,

if he had been rathe

ie, g

'You think everybody as sensitive as yourself. I assure

aid Eugénie. 'Do you know, papa, that I have been extr

Findon, absently. He was holding his wat

saying a word of money-and you have always behav

said Lord Findon, closing his wa

him so, papa, and ad

for a young man to be kept on tenterhooks.

iven him int

earth do

am. He doesn't know, but he thinks M

other,' said Lord Findon, complacentl

een able to buy a winter overcoat, and Mr. Cuningham suspects he has often not had

on, rising. 'What I see you want is that I should write

' said Eugé

don look

suppose is y

ited-inter

never said a word to the

rgot it,' said

lushing like a school-boy found out; 'I

arving-au désespoir. Enter Providence, alias my papa-with fame in one hand and gold in

the bell, but p

hur was to co

ell between the fa

oat, took up the evening pa

gén

, pa

d with downcast eyes, the other hand playing with the

ut. 'I don't think he

e me,

ng time,' she said, in a low voice, without

's face expressed a qu

uade him-to mar

drew her to him, kissed her on the bro

at you would do,' he s

ng herself, she turned deliberately to a vase of roses that stood near and began to

ate, drooping figure in its grey d

!-you are in the same mind

a sign

s he himself asks me to release him-and

ie!' cried Lord Findon. 'I vow you a

ile he lives. And if he sent for me-at a

n gave an

' he said, impetuously, 'th

r ran th

r, never wish that

at he has ru

said, almost inaudibly.

for an actress, and was now living with another woman of his own class, a Comtesse S., ten years older than himself. He knew that Eugénie believed her husband

-and Eugénie finished the rearrangement of

now I saw Els

confide

The poor child's d

y,' said Lord Findon, gravely. '

e would marry him bl

nie gathered up the letter she had b

you know that I've had a very interestin

indon

earth does he wr

d Eugénie, smiling. 'He began it in March, when he

ect? He hasn't had the bringing-up of a gentlema

matters-to a genius?'

lk, my dear, say what you will, are the result of a lon

mit, papa, that a good many gentlef

ker of gaiety, Eugénie was singularly pale. And he knew well that they were bo

lically clever nowadays. Take my advice, Eugénie-I know you want to play Providence to that young fellow-you

rew a lon

'-her voice escaped her, and she began agai

up w

he servants had finished clearing aw

he said, softly. 'One must

indon

with you, Eugénie-and

eet-very feminine, yet,

im a wife, too, papa-when he "arrives

ndon sp

said, with very e

Eugénie sat motionless, looking into the fire, he

. Eugénie!-if I could

ooked up, smiling.

walked to the further end of the drawing-

announced

door was shut

You say in your note that you hav

n the face of the man whose long devotion to her, expressed through every phase of delicate and passionate service, had brought

en them was in an instant alive with memories. Days of first youth; youth's high impressions of great and lovely things; all the innocent, stingless joys of art and travel, of

more th

sincerity and dignity, that if she received much, she also gave much-the hours of relief and pleasure which ease the labour, the inevitable torment of the artist, all that protecting environment which a woman's sweet and agile wit can build around a man's taxed brain or ruffled nerves. To chat with her, in success or failure; to be sure of her welcome, her smile at all times; to ask her sympathy in matters where he had himself trained in her the faculty of response; to rouse in her the gentle, diffident humour which seemed to him a much rarer and more distinguished thing than other women's brillian

d

ess to content and tranquillise her at any cost. As they stood thus, for these few seconds, amid the shadows of the rich encumbered room, the picture of the weeks and months they had just passed through flashed through both minds-illumin

The trance

talk to you,' she said,

y long. Papa wants

seat beside her; a

*

fidgeting with a newspaper of which he never read a word, and otherwise beguiling the time unti

ese two should marry? Welby had been then deeply in love; Eugénie in her first maiden bloom had been difficult to read, but a word from the father she adored would probably have been enough to incline her towards her lover, to transform and fire a friendship which wa

s vanity and imagination to find himself brought into connexion with historic families all the more attractive because of that dignified alienation from affairs, imposed on them by their common hatred of the Second

bscure brain effects of exposure and hardship during the siege of Paris-for the war had followed close on their honeymoon. B

fe of hers, the ideas of which Lord Findon only half understood, forbade her, it seemed, any step which would finally bar the way of that return; unless Albert should himself ask her to take it. But the Comte had never made

one of the bravest, saddest, noblest of women. Of course Welby had shared in the immense effort of the family to comfort and console her. They had been so eager to accept his help; he had given it with such tact and self-effacement; and now, meanly, they must help Eugénie to dismiss him! For it was becomin

ither thought or discipline. He did the ordinary things from the ordinary motives; but he suffered when the ordinary things turned out ill, more than another man would have done. It would certainly have been better, he ruefully admitted, if he had no

Arthur understand that he was their dear friend all the same, an

come downstairs and cross the hall. The front door clos

Findons had given a ball the year before for her coming-out, and she had danced through the season, haloed, Euphrosyne-like, by a charm of youth and laughter-till she met A

nie!-it comforted him to remember the touch of resolute and generally cheerful stoicism in her character. If a hard thing had to

*

the carria

y note. The carriage was waiting, and in a few minutes she was seated besi

d interrogation, laying hi

out of window with h

er deliberately. 'Don't let us tal

ed to Elsie Bligh-that she had sown he

well that he should never ask the question;

lums of Seven Dials, she was talking

ought the ch

my chequ

ite certain abo

ui

ppy,' she said, softly. 'His le

rite about?' exclaimed

found out that I do too. As I told you, he began with an apology-and sin

deuce does he know abou

ites extremely well

ate point, Fenwick would soon become troublesome. But whenever she p

f 'daily celebrations' and 'vestments' and 'reservation.' How lightly she stepped; what a hidden act it was; never spoken of, except once, between him and her! It puzzled him often; for he knew very well that Eugénie was no follower of things received. She had been a friend of Renan and of Taine in her French days; and he, who was a Gallic with a leaning to the Anglican Church, had sometimes guessed with discomf

-and that light and sweetness

why she liked the little church so

, you know, darling-fro

ad colour

s anything you like to put into it-one thing to me-another to you. Some day we shall all b

and such a shining of the eye, that he had been silenced, feeling himself ind

obody should ever annoy or check her in the pursuit of them. He put a very summary stop to his wife's '

*

p. Were they now come-at this unusual hour-to settle up with Mr. Fenwick? If so, her own settling up-sweet prospect!-might be in sight. Cuningham and Watson had recently left her, and taken a joint studio in Chelsea. Their rooms, moreover,

he studio door was half-open. As they approac

etch? Well, get the oil-and then look for it-under that pile over there-No!-hi!-stand still a moment-jus

nt subject. The model, a thin, dark-faced fellow, was standing meekly on the spot to which Fenwick had motioned him, while t

clever amateur, and relishe

he studio. 'Looks like a fine subject too. And just now he's king

n the doorway. He came to meet them w

on't mind this get-up.' He p

' smiled Eugénie. 'You

the very act of true creation-when after weeks or months of brooding, of hard work, of searching study of this or that, of inspiration tested

t Eugénie had the strange impression of some headlong force, checked in mid-career, and filling the quiet

t!' she cried, lookin

se!' said Fenw

uld take it as a theme. The poem is called 'An Elegy on a Lady, whom grief for the death of her betrothed killed.' Its noble verse summons all true maids and lovers to bear the dea

maidens in

ging sof

high a tor

r lead her fo

with singing,

' he said, placing it in her

cious of that natural delight of

d how you mus

-expressing grief-and longing. An evening light-between sunset and moonrise. The sky gold-and the torches. Then below-in the crowd, the autumn woods, the distant River of Death, towards which the procession moves-a massing of blues and purples'-

Mantegna Triumph-w

s the handling of the paint-that's what excites me! I want to get it broad and pure-no messing-no working over!-a fine surface!-and yet none of your waxy prettiness. The fo

ughed. He had restrained himself so far with difficulty while these two

't come just on the loose-to

e a startle

rd w

pted!-and will be admirably hung-both

ed again into F

tammered, looking fr

uthority, and then Eug

re so

shrouded herself during her drive with her father, a

d her congratulation, and

your doing,' he

ese are the days of merit, and publicity!-when every man comes to his own.' Fenwick grinned a little.

urther end of the room, where she busied herself with some wood-blocks on which Fenwick had been drawing. The two men remained hidden behind the large

-we must get ba

n to him, all that closer acquaintance, to which during the preceding weeks she had admitted him, throbbed warm at his heart. His mind was full of gratitude-full also of repentance!-towards Phoebe and towards her. That very night would he write his confession to her,

ng, no less than as an artist, that his manner to her father was excellent, neither tongue-tied nor effusive, and his few words of thanks manly and sincere.

felt herself not only secure against the vulgar snares of vanity and sex, but, as it were, endowed with a larger spiritual freedom. She had sent away the man of whom she was in truth afraid-the man whom she might have loved. But in this distant, hesitating, and yet strong devotion that Fenwick was beginning to show her, there wa

nuity, was a surprise, and it attracted her, as it would have attracted a French-woman of the eighteenth century. Her maimed life had made her perforce an 'intellectual'; and in these letters, the man's natural poetry and force stirred her enthusiasm. Hence a new interest and receptivity in her, quickened by many small and natural incidents-books lent and discussed, meetings in picture-galleries, con

ors indeed so much pleasure that they found it hard to go; several times they said good-bye, only to plunge again into the sketches and studies that lay littered about the room, to stand chatting before the new canvas, to laugh and gossip-till Lord Findon remembered that Eugénie did not yet know that he had