The Real Thing | Page 8

She was only a freckled cockney, but she could
represent everything, from a fine lady to a shepherdess; she had the
faculty, as she might have had a fine voice or long hair.
She couldn't spell, and she loved beer, but she had two or three
"points," and practice, and a knack, and mother-wit, and a kind of
whimsical sensibility, and a love of the theatre, and seven sisters, and
not an ounce of respect, especially for the H. The first thing my visitors
saw was that her umbrella was wet, and in their spotless perfection they
visibly winced at it. The rain had come on since their arrival.
"I'm all in a soak; there WAS a mess of people in the 'bus. I wish you
lived near a stytion," said Miss Churm. I requested her to get ready as
quickly as possible, and she passed into the room in which she always
changed her dress. But before going out she asked me what she was to
get into this time.
"It's the Russian princess, don't you know?" I answered; "the one with
the 'golden eyes,' in black velvet, for the long thing in the Cheapside."
"Golden eyes? I SAY!" cried Miss Churm, while my companions
watched her with intensity as she withdrew. She always arranged
herself, when she was late, before I could turn round; and I kept my
visitors a little, on purpose, so that they might get an idea, from seeing
her, what would be expected of themselves. I mentioned that she was
quite my notion of an excellent model--she was really very clever.
"Do you think she looks like a Russian princess?" Major Monarch
asked, with lurking alarm.
"When I make her, yes."
"Oh, if you have to MAKE her--!" he reasoned, acutely.
"That's the most you can ask. There are so many that are not

makeable."
"Well now, HERE'S a lady"--and with a persuasive smile he passed his
arm into his wife's--"who's already made!"
"Oh, I'm not a Russian princess," Mrs. Monarch protested, a little
coldly. I could see that she had known some and didn't like them. There,
immediately, was a complication of a kind that I never had to fear with
Miss Churm.
This young lady came back in black velvet--the gown was rather rusty
and very low on her lean shoulders--and with a Japanese fan in her red
hands. I reminded her that in the scene I was doing she had to look over
someone's head. "I forget whose it is; but it doesn't matter. Just look
over a head."
"I'd rather look over a stove," said Miss Churm; and she took her
station near the fire. She fell into position, settled herself into a tall
attitude, gave a certain backward inclination to her head and a certain
forward droop to her fan, and looked, at least to my prejudiced sense,
distinguished and charming, foreign and dangerous. We left her
looking so, while I went down-stairs with Major and Mrs. Monarch.
"I think I could come about as near it as that," said Mrs. Monarch.
"Oh, you think she's shabby, but you must allow for the alchemy of
art."
However, they went off with an evident increase of comfort, founded
on their demonstrable advantage in being the real thing. I could fancy
them shuddering over Miss Churm. She was very droll about them
when I went back, for I told her what they wanted.
"Well, if SHE can sit I'll tyke to bookkeeping," said my model.
"She's very lady-like," I replied, as an innocent form of aggravation.
"So much the worse for YOU. That means she can't turn round."
"She'll do for the fashionable novels."
"Oh yes, she'll DO for them!" my model humorously declared. "Ain't
they had enough without her?" I had often sociably denounced them to
Miss Churm.

CHAPTER III.

It was for the elucidation of a mystery in one of these works that I first
tried Mrs. Monarch. Her husband came with her, to be useful if
necessary--it was sufficiently clear that as a general thing he would
prefer to come with her. At first I wondered if this were for
"propriety's" sake--if he were going to be jealous and meddling. The
idea was too tiresome, and if it had been confirmed it would speedily
have brought our acquaintance to a close. But I soon saw there was
nothing in it and that if he accompanied Mrs. Monarch it was (in
addition to the chance of being wanted), simply because he had nothing
else to do. When she was away from him his occupation was gone--she
never HAD been away from him. I judged, rightly, that in their
awkward situation their close union was their main comfort and that
this union had no weak spot. It was a real marriage,