fraternity-第7部分

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　a　model　for　〃The　Shadow。〃　　He　had　found　one　at　last。　　Her　name；　Barton；　and　address　had　been　given　him　by　a　painter　of　still　life；　called　French。

〃She's　never　sat　to　me；〃　he　said；　〃my　sister　discovered　her　in　the　West　Country　somewhere。　　She's　got　a　story　of　some　sort。　　I　don't　know　what。　　She　came　up　about　three　months　ago；　I　think。〃

〃She's　not　sitting　to　your　sister　now？〃　　Hilary　asked。

〃No；〃　said　the　painter　of　still　life；　〃my　sister's　married　and　gone　out　to　India。　　I　don't　know　whether　she'd　sit　for　the　half…draped；　but　I　should　think　so。　　She'll　have　to；　sooner　or　later；　she　may　as　well　begin；　especially　to　a　woman。　　There's　a　something　about　her　that's　attractiveyou　might　try　her！〃　　And　with　these　words　he　resumed　the　painting　of　still　life　which　he　had　broken　off　to　talk　to　Hilary。

Hilary　had　written　to　this　girl　to　come　and　see　him。　　She　had　come　just　before　dinner　the　same　day。

He　found　her　standing　in　the　middle　of　his　study；　not　daring；　as　it　seemed；　to　go　near　the　furniture；　and　as　there　was　very　little　light；　he　could　hardly　see　her　face。　　She　was　resting　a　foot；　very　patient；　very　still；　in　an　old　brown　skirt；　an　ill…shaped　blouse；　and　a　blue…　green　tam…o'…shanter　cap。　　Hilary　turned　up　the　light。　　He　saw　a　round　little　face　with　broad　cheekbones；　flower…blue　eyes；　short　lamp…black　lashes；　and　slightly　parted　lips。　　It　was　difficult　to　judge　of　her　figure　in　those　old　clothes；　but　she　was　neither　short　nor　tall；　her　neck　was　white　and　well　set　on；　her　hair　pale　brown　and　abundant。　　Hilary　noted　that　her　chin；　though　not　receding；　was　too　soft　and　small；　but　what　he　noted　chiefly　was　her　look　of　patient　expectancy；　as　though　beyond　the　present　she　were　seeing　something；　not　necessarily　pleasant；　which　had　to　come。　　If　he　had　not　known　from　the　painter　of　still　life　that　she　was　from　the　country；　he　would　have　thought　her　a　town…bred　girl；　she　looked　so　pale。　　Her　appearance；　at　all　events；　was　not　〃too　matter…of…fact。〃　　Her　speech；　however；　with　its　slight　West…Country　burr；　was　matter…of…fact　enough；　concerned　entirely　with　how　long　she　would　have　to　sit；　and　the　pay　she　was　to　get　for　it。　　In　the　middle　of　their　conversation　she　sank　down　on　the　floor；　and　Hilary　was　driven　to　restore　her　with　biscuits　and　liqueur；　which　in　his　haste　he　took　for　brandy。　　It　seemed　she　had　not　eaten　since　her　breakfast　the　day　before；　which　had　consisted　of　a　cup　of　tea。　　In　answer　to　his　remonstrance；　she　made　this　matter…of…fact　remark：

〃If　you　haven't　money；　you　can't　buy　things。。。。　　There's　no　one　I　can　ask　up　here；　I'm　a　stranger。〃

〃Then　you　haven't　been　getting　work？〃

〃No；〃　the　little　model　answered　sullenly；　〃　I　don't　want　to　sit　as　most　of　them　want　me　to　till　I'm　obliged。〃　　The　blood　rushed　up　in　her　face　with　startling　vividness；　then　left　it　white　again。

'Ah！'　thought　Hilary；　'she　has　had　experience　already。'

Both　he　and　his　wife　were　accessible　to　cases　of　distress；　but　the　nature　of　their　charity　was　different。　　Hilary　was　constitutionally　unable　to　refuse　his　aid　to　anything　that　held　out　a　hand　for　it。　Bianca　（whose　sociology　was　sounder）；　while　affirming　that　charity　was　wrong；　since　in　a　properly　constituted　State　no　one　should　need　help；　referred　her　cases；　like　Stephen；　to　the　〃Society　for　the　Prevention　of　Begging；〃　which　took　much　time　and　many　pains　to　ascertain　the　worst。

But　in　this　case　what　was　of　importance　was　that　the　poor　girl　should　have　a　meal；　and　after　that　to　find　out　if　she　were　living　in　a　decent　house；　and　since　she　appeared　not　to　be；　to　recommend　her　somewhere　better。　　And　as　in　charity　it　is　always　well　to　kill　two　birds　with　one　expenditure　of　force；　it　was　found　that　Mrs。　Hughs；　the　seamstress；　had　a　single　room　to　let　unfurnished；　and　would　be　more　than　glad　of　four　shillings；　or　even　three　and　six；　a　week　for　it。　　Furniture　was　also　found　for　her：　a　bed　that　creaked；　a　washstand；　table；　and　chest　of　drawers；　a　carpet；　two　chairs；　and　certain　things　to　cook　with；　some　of　those　old　photographs　and　prints　that　hide　in　cupboards；　and　a　peculiar　little　clock；　which　frequently　forgot　the　time　of　day。　　All　these　and　some　elementary　articles　of　dress　were　sent　round　in　a　little　van；　with　three　ferns　whose　time　had　nearly　come；　and　a　piece　of　the　plant　called　〃honesty。〃　　Soon　after　this　she　came　to　〃sit。〃　　She　was　a　very　quiet　and　passive　little　model；　and　was　not　required　to　pose　half…draped；　Bianca　having　decided　that；　after　all；　〃The　Shadow〃　was　better　represented　fully　clothed；　for；　though　she　discussed　the　nude；　and　looked　on　it　with　freedom；　when　it　came　to　painting　unclothed　people；　she　felt　a　sort　of　physical　aversion。

Hilary；　who　was　curious；　as　a　man　naturally　would　be；　about　anyone　who　had　fainted　from　hunger　at　his　feet；　came　every　now　and　then　to　see；　and　would　sit　watching　this　little　half…starved　girl　with　kindly　and　screwed…up　eyes。　　About　his　personality　there　was　all　the　evidence　of　that　saying　current　among　those　who　knew　him：　〃Hilary　would　walk　a　mile　sooner　than　tread　on　an　ant。〃　　The　little　model；　from　the　moment　when　he　poured　liqueur　between　her　teeth；　seemed　to　feel　he　had　a　claim　on　her；　for　she　reserved　her　small；　matter…of…　fact　confessions　for　his　ears。　　She　made　them　in　the　garden；　coming　in　or　going　out；　or　outside；　and；　now　and　then；　inside　his　study；　like　a　child　who　comes　and　shows　you　a　sore　finger。　　Thus；　quite　suddenly：

〃I've　four　shillings　left　over　this　week；　Mr。　Dallison；〃　or；　〃Old　Mr。　Creed's　gone　to　the　hospital　to…day；　Mr。　Dallison。〃

Her　face　soon　became　less　bloodless　than　on　that　first　evening；　but　it　was　still　pale；　inclined　to　colour　in　wrong　places　on　cold　days；　with　little　blue　veins　about　the　temples　and　shadows　under　the　eyes。　The　lips　were　still　always　a　trifle　parted；　and　she　still　seemed　to　be　looking　out　for　what　was　coming；　like　a　little　Madonna；　or　Venus；　in　a　Botticelli　picture。　　This　look　of　hers；　coupled　with　the　matter…　of…factness　of　her　speech；　gave　its　flavour　to　her　personality。。。。

On　Christmas　Day　the　picture　was　on　view　to　Mr。　Purcey；　who　had　chanced　to　〃give　his　car　a　run；〃　and　to　other　connoisseurs。　　Bianca　had　invited　her　model　to　be　present　at　this　function；　intending　to　get　her　work。　　But；　slipping　at　once　into　a　corner；　the　girl　had　stood　as　far　as　possible　behind　a　canvas。　　People；　seeing　her　standing　there；　and　noting　her　likeness　to　the　picture；　looked　at　her　with　curiosity；　and　passed　on；　murmuring　that　she　was　an　interesting　type。　　They　did　not　talk　to　her；　either　because　they　were　afraid　she　could　not　talk　of　the　things　they　could　talk　of；　or　that　they　could　not　talk　of　the　things　she　could　talk　of；　or　because　they　were　anxious　not　to　seem　to　patronize　her。　　She　talked　to　one；　therefore。　This　occasioned　Hilary　some　distress。　　He　kept　coming　up　and　smiling　at　her；　or　making　tentative　remarks　or　jests；　to　which　she　would　reply；　〃Yes；　Mr。　Dallison；〃　or　〃No；　Mr。　Dallison；〃　as　the　case　might　be。

Seeing　him　return　from　one　of　these　little　visits；　an　Art　Critic　standing　before　the　picture　had　smiled；　and　his　round；　clean…shaven；　sensual　face　had　assumed　a　greenish　tint　in　eyes　and　cheeks；　as　of　the　fat　in　turtle　soup。

The　only　two　other　people　who　had　noticed　her　particularly　were　those　old　acquaintances；　Mr。　Purcey　and　Mr。　Stone。　　Mr。　Purcey　had　thought；　'Rather　a　good…lookin'　girl；'　and　his　eyes　strayed　somewhat　continually　in　her　direction。　　There　was　something　piquant　and；　as　it　were；　unlawfully　enticing　to　him　in　the　fact　that　she　was　a　real　artist's　model。

Mr。　Stone's　way　of　noticing　her　had　been　different。　　He　had　approached　in　his　slightly　inconvenient　way；　as　though　seeing　but　one　thing　in　the　whole　world。

〃You　are　living　by　yourself？〃　　he　had　said。　　〃I　shall　come　and　see　you。〃

Made　by　the　Art　Critic　or　by　Mr。　Purcey；　that　somewhat　strange　remark　would　have　had　one　meaning；　made　by　Mr。　Stone　it　obviously　had　another。　　Having　finished　what　he　had　to　say；　the　author　of　the　book　of　〃Universal　Brotherhood〃　had　bowed　and　turned　to　go。　　Perceiving　that　he　saw　before　him　the　door　and　nothing　else；　everybody　made　way　for　him　at　once。　　The　remarks　that　usually　arose　behind　his　back　began　to　be　heard〃Extraordinary　old　man！〃　　〃You　know；　he　bathes　in　the　Serpentine　all　the　year　round？〃　　〃And　he　cooks　his　food　himself；　and　does　his　own　room；　they　say；　and　all　the　rest　of　his　time　he　writes　a　book！〃　　〃A　perfect　crank！〃




CHAPTER　V

THE　COMEDY　BEGINS

The　Art　Critic　who　had　smiled　waslike　all　mena　subject　for　pity　rather　than　for　blame。　　An　Irishman　of　real　ability；　he　had　started　life　with　high　ideals　and　a　belief　that　he　could　live　with　them。　　He　had　hoped　to　serve　Art；　to　keep　his　service　pure；　but；　having　one　day　let　his　acid　temperament　out　of　hand　to　revel　in　an　orgy　of　personal　retaliation；　he　had　since　never　known　when　she　would　slip　her　chain　and　come　home　smothered　in　mire。　　Moreover；　he　no　longer　chastised　her　when　she　came。　　His　ideals　had　left　him；　one　by　one；　he　now　lived　alone；　immune　from　dignity　and　shame；　soothing　himself　with　whisky。　A　man　of　rancour；　meet　for　pity；　and；　in　his　cups；　contented。　He　had　lunched　freely　before　coming　to　Blanca's　Christmas　function；　but　by　four　o'clock；　the　gases　which　had　made　him　feel　the　world　a　pleasant　place　had　nearl