The Last Chronicle of Barset [195]
when she is jealous, is apt to attribute to other woman with whom her jealousy is concerned, both weakness and timidity, and to the man both audacity and strength. A woman who has herself taken perhaps twelve months in the winning, will think that another woman is to be won in five minutes. It is not to be supposed that Mrs Dobbs Broughton had ever been won by anyone except Mr Dobbs Broughton. At least, let it not be supposed that she had ever acknowledged a spark of love for Conway Dalymple. But nevertheless there was enough of jealousy in her present mood to make her think poorly of Miss Van Siever's capacity for standing a siege against the artist's eloquence. Otherwise, having left the two together with the object which she had acknowledged to herself, she would hardly have returned to them after so short an interval.
'I hope you won't dislike the trouble of all this?' said Dalrymple to his model, as soon as Mrs Broughton was gone.
'I cannot say that I like it very much,' said Miss Van Siever.
'I'm afraid it will be a bore;--but I hope you'll go through with it.'
'I shall if I am not prevented,' said Miss Van Siever. 'When I've said that I'll do a thing, I like to do it.'
There was a pause in the conversation which took up a considerable portion of the five minutes. Miss Van Siever was not holding her nail during those moments, but was sitting in a commonplace way on her chair, while Dalrymple was scraping his palette. 'I wonder what it was that first induced you to sit?' said he.
'Oh, I don't know. I took a fancy for it.'
'I'm very glad you did take the fancy. You'll make an excellent model. If you won't mind posing again for a few minutes--I will not weary you today. Your right arm a little more forward.'
'But I should tumble down.'
'Not if you lean well on the nail.'
'But that would have woken Sisera before she had struck a blow.'
'Never mind. Let us try it.' Then Mrs Broughton returned, with that pleasant feeling in her bosom of having done her duty as a wife, friend, and a Christian. 'Mrs Broughton,' continued the painter, 'just steady Miss Van Siever's shoulder with your hand; and now bring the arm and the elbow a little more forward.'
'But Jael did not have a friend to help her in that way,' said Miss Van Siever.
At the end of an hour and a half the two ladies retired, and Jael disrobed herself, and Miss Van Siever put on her customary raiment. It was agreed among them that they had commenced their work auspiciously, and that they would meet again on the following Monday. The artist begged to be allowed an hour to go on with his work in Mrs Broughton's room, and thus the hour was conceded to him. It was understood that he could not take the canvas backwards and forwards with him to his own house, and he pointed out that no progress whatever could be made, unless he were occasionally allowed some such grace as this. Mrs Broughton doubted and hesitated, made difficulties, and lifted up her hands in despair. 'It is easy for you to say, Why not? but I know very well why not?' But at last she gave way. 'Honi soit qui mal y pense,' she said; 'that must be my protection.' So she followed Miss Van Siever downstairs, leaving Mr Dalrymple in possession of her boudoir. 'I shall give you just one hour,' she said, 'and then I shall come and turn you out.' So she went down, and, as Miss Van Siever would not stay to lunch with her, she ate her lunch by herself, sending a glass of sherry and a biscuit up to the poor painter at his work.
Exactly at the end of the hour she returned to him. 'Now, Conway, you must go,' she said.
'But why in such a hurry?'
'Because I say that it must be so. When I say so, pray let that be sufficient.' But still Dalrymple went on painting.
'Conway,' she said, 'how can you treat me with such disdain?'
'Disdain, Mrs Broughton!'
'Yes, disdain. Have I not begged you to understand that I cannot allow you to remain here, and yet you pay no attention to my wishes.'
'I have done now'; and he began to put his brushes and paints together. 'I
'I hope you won't dislike the trouble of all this?' said Dalrymple to his model, as soon as Mrs Broughton was gone.
'I cannot say that I like it very much,' said Miss Van Siever.
'I'm afraid it will be a bore;--but I hope you'll go through with it.'
'I shall if I am not prevented,' said Miss Van Siever. 'When I've said that I'll do a thing, I like to do it.'
There was a pause in the conversation which took up a considerable portion of the five minutes. Miss Van Siever was not holding her nail during those moments, but was sitting in a commonplace way on her chair, while Dalrymple was scraping his palette. 'I wonder what it was that first induced you to sit?' said he.
'Oh, I don't know. I took a fancy for it.'
'I'm very glad you did take the fancy. You'll make an excellent model. If you won't mind posing again for a few minutes--I will not weary you today. Your right arm a little more forward.'
'But I should tumble down.'
'Not if you lean well on the nail.'
'But that would have woken Sisera before she had struck a blow.'
'Never mind. Let us try it.' Then Mrs Broughton returned, with that pleasant feeling in her bosom of having done her duty as a wife, friend, and a Christian. 'Mrs Broughton,' continued the painter, 'just steady Miss Van Siever's shoulder with your hand; and now bring the arm and the elbow a little more forward.'
'But Jael did not have a friend to help her in that way,' said Miss Van Siever.
At the end of an hour and a half the two ladies retired, and Jael disrobed herself, and Miss Van Siever put on her customary raiment. It was agreed among them that they had commenced their work auspiciously, and that they would meet again on the following Monday. The artist begged to be allowed an hour to go on with his work in Mrs Broughton's room, and thus the hour was conceded to him. It was understood that he could not take the canvas backwards and forwards with him to his own house, and he pointed out that no progress whatever could be made, unless he were occasionally allowed some such grace as this. Mrs Broughton doubted and hesitated, made difficulties, and lifted up her hands in despair. 'It is easy for you to say, Why not? but I know very well why not?' But at last she gave way. 'Honi soit qui mal y pense,' she said; 'that must be my protection.' So she followed Miss Van Siever downstairs, leaving Mr Dalrymple in possession of her boudoir. 'I shall give you just one hour,' she said, 'and then I shall come and turn you out.' So she went down, and, as Miss Van Siever would not stay to lunch with her, she ate her lunch by herself, sending a glass of sherry and a biscuit up to the poor painter at his work.
Exactly at the end of the hour she returned to him. 'Now, Conway, you must go,' she said.
'But why in such a hurry?'
'Because I say that it must be so. When I say so, pray let that be sufficient.' But still Dalrymple went on painting.
'Conway,' she said, 'how can you treat me with such disdain?'
'Disdain, Mrs Broughton!'
'Yes, disdain. Have I not begged you to understand that I cannot allow you to remain here, and yet you pay no attention to my wishes.'
'I have done now'; and he began to put his brushes and paints together. 'I