"Dorothy's Art Career,"

Timaru Herald, Volume XIIC, Issue 13679, 22 August 1908, Page 1 (Supplement)

"Dorothy's Art Career,"

•■ \I,- and Miss Wilii-iru-Mi, mum '." busily exchanged ™v*l fur the gf«n<uvLwl Ul <ir, Willianisou P«« » lis "P b f d and . ' n Sieiiou-th.t. had never be.n trouMcd br even the shadow of an idea rf Vr own. Xobedy *<*mwl t? anvtliing more- of her than occasional acquiescence in a truiem. Tho event was one of Mi». Uiark..worth's tniailer triumphs, io entertaining Mrs. Williamson in her own draw-ina-ruonx meant, more to bcr tnau j=ne uould bare admitted. Her vLtlorhad.a brother why was Alderman and Kmgtot, and in spite of herself bcr thought*, ran wildlv amoug dreams of delightful dinnerparties when cbfi would have seven courses and a. "tir" at her right band. Still the -was not entirely at her cji>u. The idea was lixwl in her mind that theconvcrsati.n must not be allowed to lapse Jur an instant, fche cct out resolutely to talk ■' '■ ""I was just reading this when you tame in," «Jio iKgifli, showing the gieen-tuvci-ed book. '• 1 was enjoying it very nnien. You realiv should read it it y»u havent. S "Ob, indeed! Yes-Maeterlinck. Mis. Williamson's tone vrv* politely .ndiffcneiit--W. I haven't read this one. J. mtoi 6 te> if they have it at Maudte,-. "It is so nice to get hold of a w.-n«u= book sometime*, isn t it: - pui*ued her li'.'atejo bravely. "Ye- it is, isn't it: Mr;. Williamson, ceuld hardlv trouble to do mere than a up • "l'alwav*, think Maeterlinck s books' are so pretty, don't yon:" she. went on languidly, "such, a nice feeling of home-life about them. Let me tee, didn't lie -write 'Hearts that Usui togetherT . •' I—l haven't beard of it. " Butli a sweet- book, Mrs. Charlcs--vvrtii; you ought to get it." A silence fell such as Mis. Charles worth dreaded. She turned nervotai.y to the girl. "Miw Williamson, I'm sure yeu arenot comfortable. "Won't you tome and take this chair by the hie? Its nice and warm. Oh, well, of course, if you really prefer that—but do have one of thsiw little cakes. I'm so sorry," she chatted on while she searched dcsperately for a new subject, "that Dorothy i=n i hero ler talk to you, but I'm expecting her every minute. It'i> her day at th; blade, you know." lbs girl's mother spoke for her. "Oh, dotci shu go to the Sladc?" " Yes—three days a week." "I'm sure Louie would su much like to # -.-ee her drawings, wouldn't you Lome!"

•' Ysa, mamma." " Loai« paints a little hetoelf, you know, Mrs. Chariet.wortL'. tihe really \juite nicely. Sha did seme things for me last year—didn't you, Louie-?—for Christmas. She copied tbent out of a book of coloured view© of Yarmouth that 1 had aby me." Mcs. Charlesworth remarked, "Dear me, how very nice I" and the convcitation dropped again. The silence, tlustercil her. t:ho flung herself into the breach. " What—what bad weather we've been having lately, haven't we?" " I'es, indeed, we have," was the; inetant aud animated reply. "'And I have seveiul calls to pay thfc afteruoon. Uy the .way, I'm geing to tall on Mn:. Hcriot —for the hrct. timo after—oh, but I forgot—you haven't bsen he'ie so very long, £.nd you wouldn't hare heard^ —-"' lowered-her voice and htr eyes in a war that invited quebtiou. "Heard whut?", "Well, if course, I don't say it's true. Uufc" that's how the went. Louie you musn't listen 1 Thev did sav " "What?" Mis. C'harksworth could not but be ihtereeted in any" tsubject. that brought heV'Vteitor down from her height. " Well, of course, 1 don't know anything about .it, but they did bay " ; "and' Mrs.". Williamson went on to explain with a mysterious air and intriguing reservations- what " they"' |iad seen, and '"they" had said, and "they" had done, until both women caught liight of a victoria which drew up outside the gate. Mrs. . Charleswortk could not help a. Mnile.. of gratification. It was mo.vt astonishing good fortune Uiat the only woman she kntw who.kept a carriage should have chose'n this particular "at home" day to come and see her. ' bhe b.-amed- acs she murmured her introduction :

" Mfj. Alderton—Mrs. 'Williamson." Five minutes later came the twt> Tynii from next door but one, and the "" little. drawing-room, full as- it was- iu (lie <o:dinaiy way with furniture and knick- *■' knaekc. scimed crowded. ' "' The nittrtsa of the bous-t* wat> supreme- ' ly "happy. The. visitors talked to out an.r/ttlisr, and left her frej to turn her: alten- "*'.' Iwn to the tea. Her dreams soared into j-egiota;., where slw might reign the most " "/cluirjniog and popular bcete.-s in a circle; ",." of which cvety other mcmUr had'-a title, or at least kept.;', footman. The deor burs't wid's open ail at- once. Stopped in buddeit rfurpri-e- ou the threshold stuod y. girl with jacket Hying open. ' long streamers of hair hanging over her I;ii:e.,ber cheeks glowing from ;t rapid walk,. Under her ;>tm waj a, roll of while paper. "My dear Dorothy!"' exclaimed Mis. Charle.-?worth. Dorothy did not in the kst>t grasp the importance of thv occasion. £he shook lumdtt 'frankly altu round and went over • lor p'-me *ea. '._ " Mit» Williamson has been looking forward to you coming in.'' . Her mother showed her what to cxpxt ,j>f her. Dorothy always ptented the .-up position that "gir.'rf wanted to talk \l<; girls'. However, ."he took a. chair ueai and wailed for the other to beshj. •' Have- you a drawing there!" «;•:> tin Cist quest ten. shyly pur. "Yea—it*o not worth showing." she re - ."I'm sure Mis Williauismon would lik» t.» re it, .dear," was her mother's reproof. -q Ui T ,s—voit'd like to se.- it. Lout" -i*ouMn"t'y&u£ iou nii S ut d"- 1 t ~ < -' me l^':;v - . from it." r : "\"Vs.. mamma."* .- • -I-"p».bure we hhall all like to so it, '.. taid tlw elder Mies Tyni. Dorothv otood «p with an independent - air and unrolled the full length of a bi; J lC et. w! paper.- Flinging: out ln-r aim she held if spread b?foie tliem. It was : large and bold, if somewhat amateurish charcoal study from the nude. The mode stood, naked and evidently unashamod with her head thrown up in a challengin] . poec. The fact of her b.-ing on a platfom above the spectator.-,' level lather addci to (Ik startling effect. There' was-a." sound m the room as i»i j several ladies gasping—then silence. Mrs. - ■'Cliariesworrti hers.-lf smiled upon her ds-UghterV achievement a little dubiouslyMfs Williamson K'ggled, open-eyed with aeloiiisbjiKiit. The two Miss Pyuis rJ'S d'eacha. band and turned away their, heads : with' a. half-laugh and a shocked "Ob I" Mrs. Williamson stared at the drawing "with compressed lips and raked evebrows- Mr.--. Alderton looked at, the g'irrtill she reddened. Dorotbv was- annoyed because she had coloured." and- because ■ she felt ■ in a cui i- • otxs w-av embarrassed' by th« attitude of these women. She realised with a shock r - the- tremendous gulf between their point of view aiid bcr?, and ber expression be- ' came defiant.

: Her mother, looking round and still only half-consciou of the. reason of that ominous quiet, began: "You know, we all think hau been getting on to nicely since " She stopped. Mis. Williamson had turned upon her tho full glare of her disapproval, fc-hc almost shrank. Her visitor relieved the over-charged atmosphere as the) rose. •• Louie, dear, I think Ave really must bo. going." "If your way i> mine, T shall be delighted to give you a lift," broke, in ilrs Alderton. Mis. Williamson turned to her hostess. •'I did once think," she remarked with cutting emphasis, '"of tending Louie for lessor n> the- Jilude. I can only say, after what I seen of their met hods this: afternoon, that I am extremely glad, that I didn't. (Jood afternoou( Mrs. Charle.-.-worth." Mrs. Chaikowoith was too much overwhelmed with tho sudden change to attempt a defence. The tivi> women rustled out together, Mrs. Williamson keeping a, careful eye upon her daughter, who gazed at. Dorothy with a half-curious, wholly burpriscd air, as at some Etrange and unfamiliar animal. The Miss I'yms were kinder. They wsited a few- minuteo, and even asked Dorothy whether she thought it really goed for her to si tidy thai, kind of t>ubjeet—whether it. didn't coarsen her mind it, little. "Why should it—what on earth is the matter "with it?" cried the girl flourishing the drawing in front of them. " (;h, my dear!" The Mits I'yms positively could not look at it a«ain. Dorothy ilung it. indignantly on the. tea-table. " Well, I tia-rb sometimes thought," said her motlfcr Jteeitatingly, " from things Dorothy has said, that there wasn't a very nico (on* about the Jslade." The Mies Pyms- thought it extremely probable. They made, the excuse of further calls to be paid.- and left, keeping their eyes carefully off the table as they said good-bye. Alone with her daughter, Mrs 1 . Charlesworth dropped on the sofa, crushed beneath tho ruins of her castkis in the air. Dorothy munched "at. home" day cakes for" some time in fcilence. Presently the. said : " Ridiculous women!" "Dorothy, I don't think you ought. I<» say that. * I'm sure Mrs. Williamson is a very nice woman." "My dear mother! After the % way bhc behaved to-day !" "I'm not sure that she's not right, Dorothy. I've had a. feeling all along that it not quite nice." " Mother ! haw can. you bay so? Y'ou know perfectly, well that you'vo never thought too before. If you did, why did you let me go?" Mr*. Charluiivorl h. was nearly in tears. "I—l hadn't quite realised till 4% afternoon that they didn't wear anything a.u '.all!" DorotJuy snorted. " *VJud it was all going off s-o nicely too !' 1 s>he dropped back upon sorrow for herself and her shattered, dreams. There was a man's step in the hall and ;i man's voice in the doorwar. "Hullo* W'hat's all thai? What's all

till*?" •The-jjirl explained, ending with'"-Per-fectly absurd!" *' Why, of course it's absurd—never heard of such aljsurdttr! Give ojio sonic tea. thcrVa dutiful daughter." He picked up the cause of dissension. The points of the model were salieut. He started and stared for a minute, then dropped it hastily. He coughed. " T don't suppose Mrs. Willianicon will know me after tliis," complained Mis. CharlesTTC-rth 'tearfully. '"And f don't think Dorothy ought to go on with, those kt&ons." " Hum ! Well, we'll see abut it—we'll sea about it." Dorothy sprang up, prepared fijr'Jfcifi argument. jte .'looked- from her to his wife, and iried/iu a bewildered •,'-; way, to pacify them both at onee.^Tfcl/^-'.-well, ltt">s think it over for a day or two; let's think it over," he. repeated to'himself nervously. '" Perhaps we. i<ball hit «.u something to 1» done. We'll all think about it for a day or two, shall we? : ' He tmiled with an air of finality, as one who has arrived at a- conclusion eminently satisfactory to all. Dorothy kuew that phrase of old. She knew also that it woidd quash any protest of hois with a rebuff cvfu more effectual than flat contradiction. Reasoning for the present was useless. She gave if. up with an nngrocious frown, and determined that no amount of thinking about it would change her opinion by ho much, as u word. " •She was the more resolved that there had forced itself upon her a certain uncasim'es. She- had never before, realised the enormoiw difference there was between her view and the view of the women about her. Till now sh<> had never ' come into direct conflict with- it. Kven though she had not cared about she felt that in Using, their approval she was losing wmetliuijr that. ,in spite of hemelf. ehe had half-consciously valued. She felt very much alone, and, if tshe would have admitted, just a, little afraid. She did not know what might be the strength, of this force of opinion that wasarraved against lier. The sulf at any ra-U' was uut to be span-' nsd. Their standpoint was so completely, so utterly different. Shu Wl Kick. with .'. sums sense- of comfort ou tin- knowledge that. her. London friends at. would support lier. . Tho wemen again, seemed lidieulous, negligible. Yet it was just the opinion of 'llu-se women, despise it' ax she might, that now thi-i atened her liberty, the everyday. fi~o- •• ciations of an artist's cajver which had become her very life. . For tlie Slade . meant much more than the- iner«> classes. It meant lor her a .certain, nnr'.nvcntional, i fraternal relatiou between men and- women, and an atmosphere <>f idea?.. It meant the> vari°<l incidents of the London life. Above all, it meant personal independence. .She feared most, a suggestion' ihat the should take her ' lemons at the I cal Art. School. The thought roused airv her determination. Xext morning nothing was said. Mr.'. C'harJesworth. fearful, avoided all approaches to the subject. Dorothy's indignation gr:'w with musing. Shi' dramatized herself as the 'modem .spirit bursting .nunder the fetters of outworn beliefs-. Her mind soothed all day with schemes e.f 1 oiicn rebellion. Finally sho decided at all costs to clear tit 1 ! air. lu the evening slw met her father at the sate. A cenial smile instead of the worried look she had anticipated surprised her not. :i little. "About the. Slade, father " she bog-»>- . "Oh. w..-ll—l've been thinking if over., <>ld lady." he said, taking hf:r ami. "I don't think wo nc.d bother, any ium-c about that business. Jr. seems all right Ttackford has a. daughter who does- the snuie sort of thing. Somewhere down South Kensinffton, I think hf ■said. 1 just mentioned it casually as T went np in the train this morning." Williamson was tlierc. too —he doesn't seem to mind, either. Qiiito a. decent »et of fellows in our carriage. So tha''s nil right, isn't it? T was sure it would b:; if we just thought I about it for a. bit V. . ' -