The Daughters of a Genius Part 16

"May all your life be bright and gay, As cloudless as a summer day!

"Kind of business, but reasonable good wishes which had some chance of being fulfilled. The first firm kept them for months, and could not be induced to return them until I had written four times, and the second said that it was too late in the season to consider new designs. I have sent headings and initial letters to magazines, and have had heaps of compliments, but nothing more substantial. I have likewise had heaps of snubs at the Slade, but I bob up again like a cork after each fresh dousing, and am more determined than ever to get on and make a name.

The mistake we have made is in being too proud to begin at the beginning. Hope is the most humble-minded of the family; but she expected to become well-known in one season, and to sell her song by the hundreds. Theo wanted to write for the _Casket_, and I hoped to be exhibiting before now. We must crawl down, and be content to drudge before we soar. My serious studies leave much to be desired, but I can caricature with the best. The other day I amused myself in the lunch hour by drawing the pupils in the life, and one of the girls' carried off the sketch and stuck it on her easel. Just then in came Pepper, as we call him--he is so horribly stinging and bitter in his criticisms-- and walked straight up to look at it. Oh, my heart! He was quite silent, but I saw his shoulders shaking, and when he turned round his face was red. 'Whose work is this?' he asked; and I suppose guilt was written large on my expressive features, for he came up to me and said, 'I shall have to inflict a punishment for this, Miss Charrington. I cannot have my pupils ridiculed and their work interrupted in this manner. The punishment is--that you draw a caricature of me on the other side of the sheet!'

"He put the paper on my easel, and all the girls giggled and peered round to witness my collapse. But I wasn't going to be floored by a little thing like that. He stuck his hands in his pockets and stood opposite me, and I set to work to draw him then and there. He was easy to caricature, for he has a curious, sheep-dog kind of face, with two deep lines running down from the nose, humped-up shoulders, and a mop of hair. It really was like him, and what I call a _polite_ caricature, so that his feelings shouldn't be hurt. He tried to look solemn when I gave it to him, but his lips twitched, and he walked straight out of the room and took it with him. Next day, when he was abusing my drawing as usual, he said, 'You had better caricature your subjects at once. You will make far more out of them in that way than in any other.' That was quite a compliment coming from Pepper, and I've taken it to heart.

After much cogitation I have evolved an idea which, with Theo's co-operation, I am going to put into action forthwith. I sha'n't tell you what it is until I see how I succeed, but I don't mind confessing that it is hardly high-cla.s.s. We might call it the lowest rung of the ladder."

"Be careful, deary. Don't do anything that you would be sorry for afterwards. Promise me to be careful," pleaded the anxious housekeeper; and Madge promised gaily, and carried Theo away into another room to talk over the new idea without further delay.

Hope sat still, gazing into the fire with wistful eyes; and Philippa, watching her anxiously, wondered, as she had often done of late, if it were only the strain of money-making which had brought such sadness into the sweet face. Hope had told her nothing of Ralph Merrilies; and indeed there was little to tell, for, with the exception of two occasions when she had met him at her uncle's house and exchanged a few commonplace sentences, he had practically dropped out of her life since the evening when he had offered his escort and had been treated with such apparent rudeness in response. Hope had given over telling herself that a fortnight's acquaintance could not possibly influence a lifetime, for the impression was too strong to be reasoned away. The picture of the strong, dark face was imprinted on her brain; in every moment of leisure her thoughts drifted back to Ralph as the needle to the pole.

The longing to see him again was sometimes so strong as to be an actual physical pain. Now, as she sat staring into the fire, she was reviewing her life, telling herself that love was a thing forbidden, and pondering on what remained, until, Philippa's fixed gaze attracting her attention, she looked up with a flickering smile.

"I was thinking, Phil. Our talk has made me think. I have worked so hard this last year, and the result is so poor--so unsatisfactory!" She rose, and coming close to Philippa's side, took hold of her hand and cried, with sudden pa.s.sion, "Phil, I can't do it--I can't go on! I could _give_ my life, I could work for nothing, gladly and cheerfully, if it were for some n.o.ble end, but I can't sell it for a mess of pottage! I can't go on smiling and acting and trampling on my feelings, and a.s.sociating with Minnie Caldecott and her friends for the sake of what I can make out of them. And I can't earn enough to help you. I am only a burden. I want to give it up, Phil, and devote my life to doing good. I want to enter a home for deaconesses, and be trained for work among the poor. There is no question of money there, for you get barely enough to live in the plainest way, but I should be doing some good in the world--"

"Sit down, Hope," said Philippa quietly. She waited in silence until the trembling hand lay quietly on her own, and then began her reply. "I know a girl who went to pay a visit at a country-house. It was, on the face of it, merely a pleasure visit, but while there she managed to rouse a very selfish girl to the consciousness that there were other needs in the world besides her own. Later on she gave real hard work to the carrying out of a scheme which she had suggested, and which has put fresh life into many tired workers this summer. I know a girl who has three quick-tempered, sharp-tongued sisters, and who keeps peace among them by her sweet influence. I know a girl who can make home cheerful by the exercise of her talent, and so keep a young brother happy and occupied many times when he would otherwise be roaming about in search of amus.e.m.e.nt. He is only a boy, but he thinks himself a man, and he is so easily--so easily influenced for good or bad! If that girl left her home, and her sisters' lives were made more difficult, and that poor boy went astray, would she be 'doing good'? Would she be doing the duty that lay at her hand?"

"Oh Phil!" gasped Hope, dismayed; but now Philippa in her turn was roused, and squared her shoulders in her old determined fashion.

"I can't think what has come to girls nowadays that they must take for granted that good work must needs be without their own four walls.

Charity begins at home, and _I_ call it treachery to forsake your relations when they need your help. If you go away, and anything happens to Barney--"

"Phil, don't! I can't bear it. Of course I will stay if you need me; and it comforts me more than anything else to feel that I _can_ help.

You are not--not _anxious_ about Barney, are you, dear?"

"Yes, I am. I hate to put it into words, but perhaps it is better that we should consult together. The boy is changed; sometimes there is a look upon his face which I can't bear to see--a worried, miserable, _shamed_ look, as if there were something he was trying to hide. He keeps asking for money, too, and at last I summoned up courage and refused to give any more. I thought he would have been angry, but he only stared at me fixedly and said, 'You'd better, Philippa! You will be sorry if you refuse.' Perhaps it was cowardly of me, but I was frightened and gave him what he asked; but I spoke very plainly to him, all the same. I said, 'Remember, Barney, that every unnecessary shilling you spend means extra anxiety and worry to me, and extra self-denial to the girls. We expect you to help, not to hinder. If you really love us you cannot have the heart to be extravagant just now.'

He looked miserable, but he did not offer to return the money. I have given him no more since then, but he must get it _somewhere_, for he spends far more than Steve. He had half-a-dozen new ties in his drawer, and is always going to the theatre, and buying little things for his room. I don't like to speak to Steve, for the truth is, he doesn't understand Barney, and does more harm than good by his interference.

But, Hope, you and I must work together. We must save our boy before it is too late. We must not allow him to get into bad ways."

"Poor Barney!" sighed Hope sadly. "It must be a hard life for him down in that dreary office. We have wondered that he stuck to his work so well. We won't scold him, Phil. Boys won't stand being scolded by their sisters. We will just make home as bright as we can, and make a point of consulting him and asking his help, so that he may feel like a man, poor darling--a man who has women depending on him, and must keep straight for their sake. We'll appeal to the best in him by showing our trust."

Philippa looked at her with shining eyes.

"Oh Hope, and you wanted to leave us! Bless you, dear, you _are_ a help! I was feeling so cross and bitter, inclined to snap off the poor boy's head, though my heart was breaking for him all the time; but yours is the right way. You are right and I am wrong. We will begin to-night and see what we can do."

When Barney returned from town an hour or two later Hope looked at him with opened eyes, and felt a pang of remorse for the selfishness which had blinded her to the change in the boy's face. The once smooth forehead showed a faint network of lines; his glance had lost its candour, his radiant self-confidence was replaced by nervous uncertainty. He sat down quietly, casting a quick, almost furtive glance at Philippa's face; but when she smiled gaily in response, when she pressed dainties upon him and called him "old boy" in her old loving tones, his relief and pleasure found vent in one of his old bursts of merriment. He laughed and sang, danced up and down the room, and chattered incessantly, and as if he had never known a care in his life.

"I had a rowing from old Waxworks to-day. I expect I shall get sacked soon," he announced complacently. "The head of our department is such a m.u.f.f! He can't see a joke, and spends half his time telling tales of me to the boss. Now, Waxworks, with all his faults, has quite a decent sense of humour. I tried him pretty high one day, and he really behaved uncommonly well. I was at the telephone when he came out of his private room and said, 'Oh Charrington, just telephone home for me that I am bringing two of the directors to dinner to-night.' I said, 'Yes, sir,'

and rang up at once. Of course, I expected him to go back to his room, so after I had given the message, 'Two directors coming to dinner to-night,' I dropped the tube and added a little warning on my own behalf for the benefit of the clerks: '_Don't_--_have_--_hash_!' They were all so jolly sober about it that I looked round to see what was up, and there was every man Jack of them scribbling for his life, while old Waxworks stood at his door looking on. I tell you I felt pretty sick; but he just glared at me for a moment, and then went into his room and shut the door. My private opinion is that he wanted to laugh. One of the fellows told me that he quite snubbed Young--that's our head--when he complained of my vaulting over the desks--waved his hand, and said, with his grandest roll, 'Your manager has been young himself!' I expect Young had it in for me worse than ever after that, and to-day he had his chance. He was out of the room, and it was beastly dull, so I proposed getting up a statue gallery, and posed the fellows standing up on their stools. We had the Three Graces, with their arms entwined, and their legs sticking up in the air. Ulysses meeting What's-her-name--Penelope, wasn't it?--and hugging her round the waist, and all sorts of heathen Johnnies wrestling and fighting. Then the other fellows got scared and went back to their desks, and I was doing 'Ajax defying the lightning'

in fine style, when Young came sneaking in and found me at it. He told the boss, and the boss sent for me, and jawed for a quarter of an hour.

'Willing to make excuses for youthful spirits, but must enforce discipline. Repeated complaints. Friend of your uncle. Very sorry.

Give you another chance.' You know the kind of thing."

"Bar-ney!" cried the four sisters in chorus. But Barney only laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"What's the odds? I'm sick of the whole show, anyway. If he thinks I am going to spend my life making out policies he is jolly well mistaken.

It's bad enough as it is; I should go cracked if I couldn't have a little fun."

The lines came back to his forehead as he spoke, and Philippa regarded him in pained self-reproach. This bright, adventurous spirit was never intended by nature to be chained to an office desk. No wonder that he chafed at confinement, and occasionally broke the bounds. If circ.u.mstances would have allowed it, he would have made a resourceful middy, a soldier who would have done good work for his country; but circ.u.mstances had not allowed it, and here once more was the round peg in the square hole, here once more the inevitable failure and disappointment. Surely there is no greater wrong that can be done to a young man, no surer way of driving him into temptation, than to set him a lifelong task which he despises and abhors. Philippa determined to consult the Hermit, who was by this time a regular Sunday-night visitor at the flat, and whose understanding of the boy's nature made him a more valuable adviser than the staid elder brother. Perhaps Mr Neil might be able to suggest a way out of the difficulty.

For the next few days Theo and Madge took their walks abroad together, and when at home remained shut up in the drawing-room together, whence came peals of mysterious laughter. Sheets of cardboard were smuggled to and fro, and finally taken out of the house and never brought back. In their place, however, appeared two bright half-sovereigns, displayed with huge pride on Madge's outstretched palm.

"First fruits!" she cried. "The foundations of a mighty fortune! I have set up in the advertising business, my dears, and am very well satisfied with my beginning. Oh, I am going to explain; just give me time and you shall hear all about it. You may remember, Phil, that you once advised me to try poster-painting, and that I was mortally offended at the suggestion. I remembered it, though, and when Pepper advised me to go in for caricature, it seemed as if the two things might be worked together. I was afraid it was no use trying anything big as a start, so I have been parading unfashionable thoroughfares this last week, looking out for shops which advertise their wares in the window, studying the said wares, and composing something really striking and original to attract the pa.s.sers-by. There was one pastry-cook's where they had a printed cord in the window which pleased me very much--'Mutton pies--as good as mother makes 'em!' The inventor of that advertis.e.m.e.nt would, I was sure, be able to appreciate my efforts; so I drew a picture of a dinner-table, with a fat, motherly old dear cutting up pies at one end, while the different crowned heads of Europe sat round the table, elbowing each other for the first chance. You should have seen the delight of the proprietor when I exhibited it. He called his wife, and she came out of the little parlour, and shrieked with laughter. They wanted to know what I charged for it, and I said boldly, 'Ten shillings; and in a couple of years it will be ten pounds. I am just starting in this business, so I am charging a nominal price.' They whispered together, and asked if I couldn't make it seven-and-six; but I was firm, and they were glad enough to secure it at the price. That was number one. Number two was a failure, though I thought the sketch was the best of all. The man was hard up, I think, and couldn't afford the money.

The third was a sweet-shop, for which I ill.u.s.trated a rhyme of Theo's, with figures of the 'Shock-headed Peter' type. There was a nice old body in charge, who was not by any means an easy prey. She did not believe that the picture would bring her any fresh custom, but I persuaded her to try it for a couple of days, and saw it safely pasted on the window before we left. When we went back she confessed that there had been crowds of children about the window when the schools came out, and 'supposed she had better keep it now.' That's the second half-sovereign. And you needn't look nervous, Phil, for I a.s.sure you I never met with greater politeness; the a.s.sistants in the fashionable entertainment bureaux might learn a lesson from my mutton-pie gentleman.

Besides, it has shown me that I _can_ do it, and I'll be more ambitious next time. I'll show you the sketch that the tobacconist refused, to give you an idea of the style of thing."

She ran into her bedroom, and brought back a narrow sheet of paper on which was depicted a race-course, dotted over with the strangest, most comical of figures. The headpieces of old Toby pipes peered forth from the necks of rotund tobacco-jars, which were crowned with c.o.c.ked hats, as represented by well-filled pouches. Short-stemmed pipes did service for arms, long-stemmed pipes for the wide-spread legs, and it was really astonishing how life-like and animated the figures appeared. With one exception, however, the combatants were in a very sad case, tumbling, fainting, falling to the ground, standing still with bowl-like hands pressed to their hearts, while the winner pressed nearer and nearer to the goal, and on that winner's corpulent figure was inscribed the eloquent and touching legend, "Banks's tobacco leads the way!"

"The name, of course, can be altered to suit the exigencies of the situation," said Madge dryly; and at that Barney burst into a roar of delighted laughter.

"Good old Madge! Well done, you! That's a rattling good picture, and you will sell it yet I tell you what; there's a little shop that I patronise sometimes on my way home, where I really think they might have it. They sell newspapers and tobacco and so-called stationery, and the man is an enterprising sort of fellow, who would take up a new idea.

I'll write down the address, and you might call in some day."

"Good old Barney! Good for you!" replied Madge in return. It was a simple enough suggestion, frankly made and as frankly accepted; neither brother nor sister suspected to what weighty consequences it was to give rise.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE DISCOVERY.

Over a week elapsed before Madge was able to carry out Barney's suggestion and offer the race-course advertis.e.m.e.nt to the tobacconist who had been mentioned as a likely purchaser. As a preliminary measure she thought it wise to prospect the shop itself to see if it boasted any speciality which could be introduced into the sketch, and also to study the neighbourhood in search of further customers. When the first sketch had been touched up, and two more executed, she sallied forth to try her fate once more. She was less fortunate this time than on her first expedition, inasmuch as she met with two decided refusals. The tobacconist came last on the list, and Madge's thin face shone with the light of battle as she stepped across his threshold; for hers was one of the fortunate natures which holds the more firmly to its purpose when face to face with difficulty. To return home without one single sheaf to flourish was not to be thought of for a moment; by cajolery, tact, or insistence, this last chance must be turned into a success, and a bright half-sovereign transferred from the till to her purse.

It was already late in the afternoon, the gas was lit, and the master of the shop was sitting behind his counter reading an evening newspaper.

He looked up in astonishment as Madge entered, for his clientele was almost exclusively masculine, and there was something about this quiet, black-robed girl which made him rise hastily and put on his best manners, as he inquired with what he could have the pleasure of serving her. She was a lady--not a pretty lady, yet there was something very taking about the way in which she smiled and said frankly:

"Well, do you know, I want _you_ to be my customer to-day! I have heard that you are enterprising and fond of taking up new ideas, and I have drawn a picture advertis.e.m.e.nt which I thought you might like to buy to paste in your window."

The man looked dubious and disappointed. "I hardly think"--he began uncertainly; but Madge was already unrolling her paper, and what living tobacconist could have withstood the picture that was then revealed!

This one, at least, was profoundly impressed; but when the money question was approached he showed a shocking ignorance of the value of artistic efforts. "If you 'ad said 'arf-a-crown, now," he said sadly; and then Madge thought it was time to cease cajolery and show a firm front. She spoke to him seriously on the subject of an artist's education--of its duration, its cost, its difficulties; she hinted at a reputation which would be seriously injured by the receipt of silver coins, and gave him to understand that the day was near at hand when the sketch might be resold at a fabulous profit. The bargaining was continued for a considerable time, but Madge was sharp enough to see where she could afford to be firm, and would not concede a point.

In the end the tobacconist sighed and succ.u.mbed, but not without making a stipulation on his own side. There were one or two trifling additions which he wished made to the advertis.e.m.e.nt, and these Madge offered to do then and there if he could accommodate her with a table. There was no room in the tiny shop, but he looked towards the half-open door which led into the room behind, and whistled a summons, in response to which a thin, sad-faced woman made her appearance.

"Mother, will you give this young lady a seat in the parlour? She's got a drawing here that you will like to see, and there are one or two little things she is going to put in to make it better still."

"Come in, miss," said the woman curiously; and Madge walked into a little oven of a room, which was, however, clean and tidy, and not without a certain homely charm. The pictures on the walls were almost without exception prints of racing horses, and while the tobacconist's wife examined her sketch, Madge studied these prints with interest, and could not resist remarking on their number.

"You must be very fond of horses."

"My husband is!" The woman spoke shortly, and in a tone which made Madge regret her thoughtlessness. The thin face grew lined and troubled; her voice sank to a whisper. "I hate 'em!" she whispered. "I hate the sight of 'em. They have been the ruin of us. We used to be in quite a big way. We've come down and down. I don't know what will happen next."

Madge murmured sympathetically and bent her head over her work. All unwillingly she had touched upon the family skeleton, and it was difficult to know how to offer consolation when the offender himself was within hearing distance. She worked steadily at her sketch, while the woman sat down to her sewing, and for several moments the silence was unbroken. Then came the tinkle of the little bell, and two customers entered the shop. Madge heard a request for tobacco and a sporting paper, but she was in the middle of some fine printing and did not lift her head from her sheet. The proprietor was evidently weighing out the tobacco while his customers studied the paper. Suddenly one of them spoke in a reproachful voice:

"You were wrong about Friday's race, Mr Edwards. Brownie was not in it!

You have not been fortunate in your tips lately."

"Jolly bad tips!" cried another voice, at the sound of which Madge's pencil slipped from her hand and rolled across the table. She bent forward to rescue it, casting at the same time a lightning glance through the half-opened door. The two customers were still standing before the counter, the younger of the two speaking in hot, excited tones: "I wish I had never taken your advice. It's been a bad business for me. I've lost five pounds this last fortnight."

"I wish _I_ had got off with five pounds, sir," sighed the tobacconist; and his wife echoed the sigh with hopeless resignation. Then the bell jingled once more, the customers left the shop, and five minutes later Madge pushed back her chair and prepared to follow their example.