The Mind the Paint Girl | Page 3

about the Pandora; that's Nicko Jeyes's life.
FARNCOMBE.
He's an old friend of Mrs. Upjohn's and Miss Parradell's too, isn't he?
ROPER.
[Evasively.] Known 'em some time. That's it; Lily's so faithful to her old friends.
FARNCOMBE.
[Smiling.] You oughtn't to complain of that.
ROPER.
Oh, but I'm a real friend. I've always been a patron of the musical drama-- it's my fad; and I've kept an eye on Lily from the moment she sprang into prominence-- [singing] "Mind the paint! Mind the paint!" --looked after her like a father. Uncle Lal she calls me. [Reassuringly.] I'm a married man, you know; [FARNCOMBE nods] but the wife has plenty to occupy her with the kids and she leaves the drama to me. She prefers Bexhill. [Leaning forward and speaking with great earnestness.] Farncombe, what a charming creature!
FARNCOMBE.
[Innocently.] Mrs. Roper?
ROPER.
No, no, no; Lily. [Hastily.] Oh, and so's my missus, for that matter, when she chooses. But Lily Upjohn----!
FARNCOMBE.
[In a low voice.] Beautiful; perfectly beautiful.
ROPER.
Yes, and as good as she's beautiful; you take it from me. [With a wave of the hand.] Well, if you see Jeyes, you won't----?
FARNCOMBE.
Not a word.
ROPER.
[Rising and walking away to the left.] I've warned the others. [Returning to FARNCOMBE who has also risen.] By-the-bye, if Lily should mention the supper in the course of conversation, remember, she's not in the conspiracy.
FARNCOMBE.
Conspiracy?
ROPER.
To shunt Nicko. We're letting her think there are to be no outsiders.
FARNCOMBE.
[Becoming slightly puzzled by ROPER'S manner.] Why, would she very much like Captain Jeyes to be asked?
ROPER.
[Rather impatiently.] Haven't I told you, once you're a friend of Lil's----! [Looking towards the door.] Is this Ma? [MRS. UPJOHN enters.] Hul-lo, Ma!
MRS. UPJOHN.
[A podgy little, gaily dressed woman of five-and-fifty with a stupid, good-humoured face.] 'Ullo, Uncle!
ROPER.
Lord Farncombe----
MRS. UPJOHN.
[Advancing and shaking hands with FARNCOMBE.] Glad to see you 'ere again. You 'ave been before, 'aven't you?
FARNCOMBE.
Last week.
MRS. UPJOHN.
Of course; you came with Mr. Bertie Fulkerson. But somebody or other's always poppin' in. [Pleasantly.] Lil sees too many, I say. It's tirin' for 'er. Won't you set?
ROPER.
Lord Farncombe's brought Lily some flowers, Ma. [To FARNCOMBE.] Where are they?
FARNCOMBE.
[Who, after waiting for MRS. UPJOHN to settle herself upon the settee in front of the writing-table, sits in the chair at the end of the settee-- pointing to a large basket of flowers.] On the piano.
MRS. UPJOHN.
[Barely glancing at the flowers.] 'Ow kind of 'im! Sech a waste o' money too! They do go off so quick.
ROPER.
[Reading the cards attached to the various floral gifts.] Where is Lil?
MRS. UPJOHN.
She's settin' to a risin' young artist in Fitzroy Street-- Claude Morgan. She won't be 'ome till past five. So tirin' for 'er.
ROPER.
Never heard of Morgan.
MRS. UPJOHN.
No, nor anybody else. That's what I tell 'er. Why waste your time givin' settin's to a risin' young artist when the big men 'ud go down on their 'ands and knees to do you? But that's Lil all over. She's the best-natured girl in the world, and so she gets imposed on all round.
FARNCOMBE.
[Gallantly.] I prophesy that Mr. Morgan's picture of Miss Parradell won't have dried before he's quite famous.
MRS. UPJOHN.
[Turning a pair of dull eyes full upon him.] 'Ow do you mean?
FARNCOMBE.
[Disconcerted.] Er-- I mean--
MRS. UPJOHN.
Why won't it 'ave dried?
FARNCOMBE.
I mean he will have become celebrated before it has dried.
MRS. UPJOHN.
'Is pictures never do dry, you mean?
ROPER.
No, no, Ma!
MRS. UPJOHN.
'Owever, it doesn't matter. 'E isn't even goin' to put 'er name to it.
ROPER.
Why not?
MRS. UPJOHN.
You may well ask. 'E's bent on callin' it "The 'Mind the Paint' Girl."
ROPER.
What's wrong with that? Everybody'll recognise who that is.
MRS. UPJOHN.
[Unconvinced.] 'Er name's printed on all 'er photos.
FARNCOMBE.
The first time I had the pleasure of seeing your daughter on the stage, Mrs. Upjohn, a man next to me said, "Here comes the 'Mind the Paint' girl."
MRS. UPJOHN.
[Cheering up.] Oh, well, p'r'aps young Morgan knows 'is own business best. Let's 'ope so, at any rate.
ROPER.
[By the tea-table, beckoning to FARNCOMBE.] Farncombe----
FARNCOMBE.
[To ROPER.] Eh? [To MRS. UPJOHN, rising.] Excuse me.
[FARNCOMBE joins ROPER, whereupon MRS. UPJOHN goes to the writing-table and, seating herself there, examines the jewellery delightedly.
ROPER.
[To FARNCOMBE, in a whisper.] Do me a favour.
FARNCOMBE.
Certainly.
ROPER.
[Looking at his watch.] It's only half-past four. Take a turn round the Square. I've some business to talk over with the old lady.
FARNCOMBE.
[Nodding to ROPER and then coming forward and addressing MRS. UPJOHN.] I-- er-- I think I'll go for a little walk and come back later on, if I may.
MRS. UPJOHN.
[Contentedly.] Oh, jest as you like.
FARNCOMBE.
[Moving towards the door.] In about a quarter-of-an-hour.
MRS. UPJOHN.
If we don't see you again, I'll tell Lil you've been 'ere.
FARNCOMBE.
[At the door.] Oh, but you will; you will see me again.
MRS. UPJOHN.
Well, please yourself and you please your dearest friend, as Lil's dad used to say.
FARNCOMBE.
Thank you-- thank you very much.
[He disappears, closing the door after him.
MRS. UPJOHN.
[To ROPER, looking up.] I b'lieve you gave that young