F. E. Mills Young

“ Jill was too engrossed to talk, and Markham apparently had no desire to. He sat quite motionless watching her with a strained, intent, unfathomable expression in his glance that Jill in unconscious accuracy was transmitting to the painted eyes on the canvas, though the expression was by no means habitual to him, and gave the portrait an unlifelike appearance. She shook her head over it despondently, and stood back from the easel in order to take a better look.
“I must leave the eyes alone to-day,” she said, “I am making a muddle of them. They are your eyes, and yet they are not yours. ”

“ No one can part us now, Jack; not all the spiteful machinations of the tyrannical, disagreeable, up-to-date parent can come between you and me, dear, nor alter the fact that we are man and wife.”
“That’s true,” replied St. John with mock resignation. “There’s no getting out of it edgeways; for there is a helpless finality about matrimony that carries its own conviction. Jill, my dear, you look uncommonly nice in that gown.” ”

“ I don’t see why I shouldn’t paint one day a week and draw on the other.”
“That’s not my system,” replied Jill, and the curt finality of tone and manner irritated him exceedingly. He felt like saying ‘Damn your system,’ and only refrained by biting fiercely at his moustache, and jerking back his drawing-board with such vehemence that, coming into violent contact with the cast from which he had been working, and which stood on a box in the centre of the table, it upset the whole erection, and with a terrible crash Jill’s favourite model was shivered into fragments. ”

“ Jill smiled at this proposal but shook her head decisively.
“It’s no good; it wouldn’t answer,” she said. “We should fight dreadfully in a month, and then the models would get smashed. And you’d never earn anything at painting, you know; your pictures always require explaining, and your figures are atrocious. I can’t think why you will persist in going in for the human form divine; it’s most difficult; for any fool can see when a figure’s out of drawing except the one who draws it, and you never will learn that green isn’t a becoming tint for flesh even in the deep shadows.” ”

“ She sat on the red stool before her easel working, not at the sachets—she was too disgusted to touch them—but at her last canvas, with a lay figure posed in lieu of the model she could no longer employ. When the sound of someone mounting the stairs caused her heart to quicken its beating, and the tell-tale colour to come and go in her cheeks. It was St. John, she knew at once; very few men ascended those stairs, and only one with that quick decision born of familiarity. ”

“ The next morning Jill went to work on the sachets again, though it was with the utmost difficulty that she managed to concentrate her thoughts upon anything at all save Jack and the new ring. As it was, her ideas kept wandering, and she caught herself every now and again breaking off into song—snatches of Music Hall choruses that she had heard the night before. And then in the midst of it in walked St. John, and seeing what she was doing he took the satin away from her in his masterful fashion, and crumpled it up in his hands before her horrified gaze. ”

“ John. “Let us give over fencing and understand one another. My son is infatuated—he generally is, by the way, it is a failing of his,”—Jill felt this to be untrue even while he said it, but she made no sign. “You, of course, are quite aware of his infatuation? But, Miss Erskine, he is a beggar; he has nothing in the world save what I allow him.”
“How degrading!” cried Jill. “I should have credited him with possessing more manhood than that. Everyone should be independent who can be.”
He smiled and tapped the cheque-book with his fingers. He fancied that she would be sensible. ”

“ John looked amused.
“Well, I don’t quite see what else he could have done under the circumstances,” said he. “I don’t blame him for giving me the kick out and all that as I disappointed him, but I do for not bringing me up to some profession; it’s beastly rough luck for me.”
Jill laid one small hand upon his shoulder, ever so light a touch but it carried great comfort with it.
“You don’t make a good poor man, dear,” she said gently. “You should have known my father; he was always cheerful even in his poorest moments; yet no one would have called him careless nor improvident. ”

“ Jill detected the look and resented it.
“You are wondering where my pupils are,” she said quickly, “I am expecting—no,” with a proud upraising of her small chin, “I am not expecting—How could I expect anyone to mount those stairs?—I am hoping that some may turn up eventually.”
“And yet,” he said in a distinctly offended tone, “you refuse the first who presents himself. But perhaps you mistrusted my claim to respectability?”
Jill blushed uncomfortably. She had forgotten for the moment that she had refused him as a pupil on the ground of having no vacancy. ”

“ John was never wise; the only noteworthy action of his life was when he married you.”
“Ah!” said Jill with a very pathetic smile, “I often fancy that that was the most unwise thing he ever did.”
Markham looked at her speculatively, and failed to make an immediate reply. Was it St. John, himself, who had given her cause to think so, he wondered. Was she finding out so soon that their marriage had been a mistake?
“You are depressed,” he said, leaning towards her, his hands lightly grasping the arms of his chair. “It isn’t good for you to feel like that. Jack is a brute to leave you to yourself. ”

“ She became ill again—off her head, as Isobel informed St. John when she received him one Tuesday with the intimation that he could not go up as usual. The heat of summer, together with the continual atmosphere of white lead and turpentine had been too much for Jill, and she had collapsed, and, becoming rambling and incoherent in her talk the landlady had taken things into her own hands and sent for the doctor, when it was only rest and a little nursing and relief from mental worry that the invalid stood in need of, and not physic, a doctor’s bill, and impossible advice. ”

“ Jill cried fiercely, “to try and make me feel mean?”
“I’m glad if I have succeeded in making you feel it,” he answered imperturbably, patting the ring in place, and slowly releasing her hand, “for you certainly are mean. Your meanness is, in fact, only to be equalled by your bad temper and that exceeds it. I am not blind to your faults you may observe; they are as plentiful as flies in summer, and equally irritating.” ”

“ John had employed, stood against the wall unfinished and there were others ready for sale but nowhere to dispose of them. In the afternoon she went out—there was no time for holidays now—in search of a market, and returned in the evening weary, footsore, miserable, having had no luck at all with her canvasses, but—oh! the degradation to Jill’s artist-soul—having been obliged to accept as the only thing going an order for half-a-dozen nightdress sachets—‘pyjama bags’ as the oily, leering, facetious individual who had given her the commission called them. ”

“ She said little enough at the time, but her manner betrayed her vexation, and the strained relationship that had existed between them during the past few days grew more apparent. When Markham arrived, she was feeling more hurt than angry, and her mood was softened and subdued, and nearer akin to tears than it had been since her marriage.
“Jack has gone out,” she said in answer to his enquiry, not so much explanatorily, but because she felt she must say something, and that was the only thing she could think of at the moment. ”

“ Jill turned away to hide a smile, or a blush, or something feminine which she did not wish him to perceive. He watched her in some amusement and waited for her to break the silence. He would have liked to have helped her out, but could think of nothing to say.
“I behaved foolishly last Tuesday;” she remarked at length, speaking with her back impolitely turned towards him, and a mixture of shame and triumph on the face which he could not see. “I lost my temper which was ill bred; and,” turning round and laughingly openly, “I’m afraid that I’m not so sorry as I ought to be. ”

“ I could have pinched that horrid little baby this afternoon, it irritated me so; and yet I am fond of children. And I could have been exceedingly rude to Miss Bolton if she hadn’t been rude to me first;—of course I wouldn’t follow her example in anything.”
“Rude to you?—Evie? How?”
“Oh! in an entirely lady-like manner. She merely gave me to understand that she didn’t intend to recognise me, and treated me as she would any other shop assistant. Miss Bolton means taking you up and cutting your wife. I suppose she is perfectly justified.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Jill,” St. John cried sharply. ”

“ John amicably.
“Monday!” cried Jill. “It’s washing day. How can you be so inconsiderate?”
“Oh, ah! washing day! I forgot. The atmosphere is composed of soap-suds, and we have cold meat. Not Monday, my dear boy; it is the most ungodly day of the week.”
“Tuesday would do,” said Jill, “if that suits, and I think three o’clock would be the most convenient hour for me. The light, of course, is best in the mornings, but I am always busy then.”
“Any time will suit me,” Markham answered promptly, “and any day.”
“Ah,” said Jill with a little smile, “Jack was like that once. ”

“ John, Senior, might never have received it for all the sign he made, and Jill, being ill and low-spirited at the time, cried with annoyance to think that her husband should have written to him at all.
“He will only imagine that you want something out of him,” she exclaimed pettishly.
“Never mind what he imagines,” answered St. John, bending over the speaker’s couch, and touching the baby’s smooth cheek with his finger. “It needn’t bother us so long as we are satisfied that we have done what is right. ”

“ John was getting on more quickly than his teacher had imagined that he would. He was not likely to ever make an artist but still he progressed very fairly in amateur fashion. His eye unfortunately was not true; he could never see when a thing was out of drawing, but he was always ready to listen to advice, and correct his work under supervision. His greatest fault was a desire to get on too quickly; and Jill had to assert her authority on more than one occasion to restrain him, and keep his ambition in check. ”

“ Apparently she did not consider that the human form reckoned in this category, and certainly her own, thanks to the aid of the costumière, had deviated somewhat from the natural laws of contour; nevertheless nature is at the root of our being and no matter how we attempt to disguise and ignore the fact she will not be denied. It was on the tip of Jill’s tongue to remark that flowers alone did not constitute nature but she restrained herself, and endeavoured to check her increasing irritability. ”

“ Jill took up a pencil and penknife with the intent to sharpen the former but laid them down again suddenly and looked him squarely in the face.
“If you mean have you any talent for art?” she said coolly, “I am afraid I cannot give you much encouragement. You have a liking for it, and, I should say, possess a certain amount of perseverance; therefore in time you ought to turn out some fairly decent work, but you have not talent.” ”

“ John, the cold, inflexible, heartsore resentment of wounded love. He ought to have told her of his engagement; if not actually dishonourable it was mean of him to have suppressed the fact when he must have seen that he was becoming necessary to her, when he knew, too, that she was more than, under the circumstances, she should have been to him; for that he did care for her she did not doubt—infatuation his father had called it, and it might be that he was right. At any rate St. John should have left the Art School before it had grown too late. This feeling of anger acted as a tonic to Jill ”

“ You know as well as I do that Thompkins will be quite agreeable. I should have thought you would have settled the matter out of hand.”
“I am not at all sure that I will undertake it,” retorted Jill pettishly. “I hate painting men; they make such horribly uninteresting subjects; and I’m sick to death of the sound of Evie Bolton’s name. Fancy listening for a solid hour to the extolling of her virtues! I don’t think I could stand it.”
“Oh! that’s it, is it?” laughed St. John. “Well, of course, you must please yourself, old girl, but I shouldn’t let Evie do me out of a fiver if I were you. ”

“ Life was one long pleasant day-dream; though sometimes Miss Bolton “biked” through the dreaming, and then it became a night-mare, and Jill was consumed with a fierce burning jealousy that lasted until a new-born, audacious, delicious conceit—her woman’s intuition—assured her that poor and insignificant though she was St. John was far more fond of her than he would ever be of his pretty, elegant, and wealthy cousin.
Chapter Six. St. John had attended Miss Erskine’s studio for two quarters, and was now into the third. He was still her sole pupil ”

“ Jill shook her head, but she was still smiling.
“You forget,” she said, “that I’m only the attics; it is a favour that I get them brought at all. I fear it will end in your always having to carry them in if you won’t let me; that and the stairs will soon put to flight your desire for studying art.” ”

“ Jill said firmly.
“Well, I’m going to,” he replied, “I’m going to see about it now. We’ll go before a Registrar—much nicer than Church, you know, doesn’t take so long. And then I’m going to invest the rest with a little capital that I have by me in a snug little business—haberdashery, or something of the kind; I’m not quite sure what, though I thought about nothing else all last night.”
Jill gave a quiet laugh.
“My dear old boy,” she said, “you must allow me a say in that matter if you please. I wouldn’t let you have a haberdashery; I’d sooner that you were a pork butcher at once.” ”

“ A man does not generally relish breaking with his family and throwing up a luxurious home for the doubtful prospect of earning his own living when he has not been brought up to any profession, and hasn’t a superabundance of capital to launch him into a going concern. St. John had certainly not relished it, but he had made no complaint and had met his ill fortune with a cheerfulness and pluck which did him infinite credit. Jill mopped her eyes again vigorously and put both arms around his neck. ”

“ Jill flushed painfully again, and her breath came more quickly. It is so easy to wound another’s feelings that sometimes the inflicter of so much pain hardly realises the anguish that he causes.
“Mr St. John,” the girl said quickly, speaking as though she were anxious to say what she wished to, before her suddenly acquired courage deserted her again, “I don’t quite understand what it is you want with me, and I can hardly believe that you have come here with no other intention than that of insulting me. ”

“ Some people would have magnified them into tragedies, but we have managed to shake them off somehow, and come up smiling. So long as we have each other, and health—”
“And Baby,” supplemented Jill. “And Baby, of course; there is nothing much we need worry about. The business manages to keep on its feet somehow; I think one day it may possibly even walk.”
“You are brave and confident,” Jill whispered a little wistfully, “but you will never be well off now dear.”
And St. John with his arm still round her, drew her nearer to him and kissed her upon the lips. ”

“ Jill sighed.
“I am sorry for that man,” she said, “his life must be a disappointment. The people who want to be painted are generally so impossible.”
“My dear girl,” remonstrated St. John, “considering the circumstances that is one of the things better left unsaid.”
“I am speaking from the artistic sense,” she replied; “besides I said ‘generally.’”
“I quite understand,” interposed Markham laughing, “and entirely agree with you. But that won’t interfere with the sitting on Tuesday, eh?” ”

“ To chuck up quarter of a million and pretty Evie Bolton for—
“You must really excuse me, Mrs St. John,” he exclaimed meeting Jill’s surprised, and slightly disapproving glance with easy frankness, “but it’s just immense to hear Jack talk about work; I don’t suppose he has done a hand’s turn in his life.”
Jill lifted her eyes to her husband’s with unconcealed pride in her look.
“It doesn’t follow that he won’t be able to do it,” she answered confidently. “You none of you seem to have understood him. He is full of pluck and perseverance, only he has always been discouraged.” ”

“ John is studying the figure—”
Miss Bolton interrupted with a little scream.
“How horrid of him,” she cried. “Not the nude, Miss Erskine, surely?”
Jill stared.
“Well, at present,” she said, “he is drawing the human foot in outline, and it certainly hasn’t a stocking on.”
“But you don’t teach—that sort of thing, do you?”
“It is usually taught in Art Schools,” Jill answered frigidly. “So far as I am concerned I have only just commenced teaching. You do not wish to go in for the figure then?”
“Certainly not; flowers are my forte; I adore nature.” ”

“ The feeling of sadness had passed, a deep happiness and contentment had risen in its place.
“I am well off,” he answered. “No man, whatever his social standing or the size of his banking account, could be better off. I wouldn’t swop you and the boy, Jill, for the untold wealth of the world.” ”

“ With women it is different; they are so beastly selfish in their love; they always want the object of their affection near them.”
“Ask his mother,” St. John repeated in a hard voice. “A mother has more right than anyone else to decide the future of her child.”
Jill, who had remained till now impassive, listening open-eyed to all she heard, came forward as her husband finished speaking and stood between the old man and the baby on the floor as though she would protect the child from his grandfather’s designs. ”

“ Apparently the incongruity of the situation did not appeal to him, or perhaps he was too much engrossed with the main object to think of anything else; for he went on quite coolly as though her acceptance of him as a pupil were a foregone conclusion.
“I have long wanted to take up art as a hobby for leisure moments, but I have never had the pluck to go to one of the big studios as I know absolutely nothing, and I’m not quite sure, dubiously, whether I have much talent that way.” ”

“ But Jill seemed to find a difficulty in answering, or a disinclination to do so; for she drew herself up and remained silent, an angry spot of colour in either cheek. St. John tapped the floor impatiently with his boot.
“Come, come,” he cried, “this is childish to accuse a fellow of some possibly imaginary wrong, and not give him the chance of refuting it. What heinous offence do you fancy me guilty of? Robbing a bank? ”