Alcott, Louisa May - SSC 11 (4 page)

 
          
           
"My dear Mr. Vane, what DO you mean?" asked the lady, laughing.

 
          
           
"I came to study young faces; I want one for a picture, and that little
girl with the red leaves is charming. Please present me."

 
          
           
"No use; you may ask for her hand by-and-by, if you like, but not for her
head. She is very proud, and never would consent to sit as a model, I'm
sure."

 
          
           
"I think I can manage it, if you will kindly give me a start."

 
          
           
"Very well.
The children are just going down to
supper, and Miss
 
 Delano will rest. You can make
your bold proposal now, if you dare."
 
 

 
          
           
A moment later, as she stood watching the little ones troop away, Jessie found
herself bowing to the tall gentleman, who begged to know what he could bring
her with as much interest as if she had been the finest lady in the room. Of
course she chose ice-cream, and slipped into a corner to rest her tired feet,
preferring the deserted parlor to the noisy dining-room,—not being quite sure
where she belonged now.

 
          
           
Mr. Vane brought her a salver full of the dainties girls best love, and drawing
up a table began to eat and talk in such a simple, comfortable way that Jessie
could not feel shy, but was soon quite at her ease. She knew that he was a
famous artist, and longed to tell him about poor Laura, who admired
his
pictures so much and would have enjoyed every moment of
this chance interview. He was not a very young man, nor a handsome one, but he
had a genial face, and the friendly manners which are so charming; and in ten
minutes Jessie was chatting freely, quite unconscious that the artist was
studying her in a mirror all the while. They naturally talked of the children,
and after praising the pretty dance Mr. Vane quietly added,—

 
          
           
"I've been trying—to find a face among them for a picture I'm doing; but
the little dears are all too young, and I must look elsewhere for a model for
my wood-nymph."

 
          
           
"Are models hard to find?" asked Jessie, eating her ice with the
relish of a girl who does not often taste it.

 
          
           
"What I want is very hard to find. I can get plenty of beggar-girls, but
this must be a refined face, young and blooming, but with poetry in it; and
that does not come without a different training from any my usual models get.
It will be difficult to suit me, for I'm in a hurry and don't know where to
look,"—which last sentence was not quite true, for the long glass showed
him exactly what he wanted.

 
          
           
"I help Mademoiselle with her classes, and she has pupils of all ages;
perhaps you could find some one there."

 
          
           
Jessie looked so interested that the artist felt that he had begun well, and
ventured a step further as he passed the cake-basket for the third time.

 
          
           
"You are very kind; but the trouble there is, that I fear none of the
young ladies would consent to sit to me if I dared to ask them. I will confide
to you that I HAVE seen a head which quite suits me; but I fear I cannot get
it. Give me your advice, please. Should you think this pretty creature would be
offended, if I made the request most respectfully?"

 
          
           
"No, indeed; I should think she would be proud to help with one of your
pictures, sir. My sister thinks they are very lovely; and we kept one of them
when we had to sell all the rest," said Jessie, in her eager, frank way.

 
          
           
"That was a beautiful compliment, and I am proud of it. Please tell her
so, with my thanks. Which was it?"

 
          
           
"The woman's head,—the sad, sweet one people call a Madonna. We call it
Mother, and love it very much, for Laura says it is like our mother. I never
saw her, but my sister remembers the dear face very well."

 
          
           
Jessie's eyes dropped, as if tears were near; and Mr. Vane said, in a voice
which showed he understood and shared her feeling,—

 
          
           
"I am very glad that anything of mine has been a comfort to you. I thought
of my own mother when I painted that picture years ago; so you see you read it
truly, and gave it the right name. Now, about the other head; you think I may
venture to propose the idea to its owner, do you?"

 
          
           
"Why not, sir?
She would be very silly to refuse,
I think."

 
          
           
"Then YOU wouldn't be offended if asked to sit in this way?"

 
          
           
"Oh, no.
I've sat for Laura many a time, and she
says I make a very good model. But then, she only paints simple little things
that I am fit for."

 
          
           
"That is just what I want to do. Would you mind asking the young lady for
me? She is just behind you."

 
          
           
Jessie turned with a start, wondering who had come in; but all she saw was her
own curious face in the mirror, and Mr. Vane's smiling one above it.

 
          
           
"Do you mean me?" she cried, so surprised and pleased and half
ashamed that she could only blush and laugh and look prettier than ever.

 
          
           
"Indeed I do. Mrs. Murray thought the request would annoy you; but I
fancied you would grant it, you wore such a graceful little garland, and seemed
so interested in the pictures here."

 
          
           
"It is only a bit of ivy, but so pretty I wanted to wear it, as I had
nothing else," said the girl, glad that her simple ornament found favor in
such eyes.

 
          
           
"It is most artistic, and caught my eye at once. I said to myself,'
That
is the head I want, and I MUST secure it if possible.'
Can I?" asked Mr. Vane, smiling persuasively as he saw what a frank and
artless young person he had to deal with.

 
          
           
"With pleasure, if Laura doesn't mind. I'll ask her, and if she is willing
I shall be very proud to have even my wreath in a famous picture,"
answered Jessie, so full of innocent delight at being thus honored that it was
a pretty sight to see.

 
          
           
"A thousand thanks! Now I can exult over Mrs. Murray, and get my palette
ready. When can we begin? As your sister is an invalid and cannot come to my
studio with you, perhaps you will allow me to make my sketch at your own
house," said Mr. Vane, as pleased with his success as only a perplexed
artist could be.

 
          
           
"Did Mrs. Murray tell you about us?" asked Jessie quickly, as her
smiles faded away and the proud look came into her face; for she was sure their
misfortunes were known, since he spoke of poor Laura's health.

 
          
           
"A little," began the new friend, with a sympathetic glance.

 
          
           
"I know models are paid for sitting; did you wish to do it with me because
I'm poor?" asked Jessie, with an irrepressible frown and a glance at the
thrice-cleaned dress and the neatly mended gloves.

 
          
           
Mr. Vane knew what thorn pricked the sensitive little girl, and answered in his
friendliest tone,—

 
          
           
"I never thought of such a thing. I wanted YOU to help ME, because I am
poor in what artists so much need,—real grace and beauty. I hoped you would
allow me to give your sister a copy of the sketch as a token of my gratitude
for four great
kindness
."

 
          
           
The frown vanished and the smile returned as the soft answer turned away
Jessie's wrath and made her hasten to say penitently,—

 
          
           
"I was very rude; but I haven't learned to be humble yet, and often forget
that I am poor. Please come to us any time. Laura will enjoy seeing you work,
and be delighted with anything you give her. So shall I, though I don't deserve
it."

 
          
           
"I won't punish you by painting the frown that quite frightened me just
now, but do my best to keep the happy face, and so heap coals of fire on your
head. They won't burn any more than the pretty red leaves that brought me this
good fortune," answered the artist, seeing that his peace was made.

 
          
           
"I'm SO glad I wore them!" and as if trying to make amends for her
little flash of temper, Jessie told him about the ivy, and how she loved it,—unconsciously
betraying more of her pathetic little story than she knew, and increasing her
hearer's interest in his new model.

 
          
           
The children came back in riotous spirits, and Jessie was called to lead the
revels again. But now her heart was as light as her heels; for she had
something pleasant to think of,—a hope of help for Laura, and the memory of
kind words to make hard duties easier. Mr. Vane soon slipped away, promising to
come the next day; and at
eight o'clock
Jessie ran home to tell her sister the good news, and to press the little
wreath which had served her so well.

 
          
           
With the sanguine spirit of girlhood, she felt sure that something delightful
would happen, and built fine castles in the air for her sister, with a small
corner for herself, where she could watch Laura bloom into a healthy woman and
a great artist. The desire of Jessie's heart was to earn eneugh money to enable
them to spend a month or two at the seashore when summer came, as that was the
surest cure for Laura's weak nerves and muscles. She had cherished the wild
idea of being a ballet-girl, as dancing was her delight; but every one frowned
upon that plan, and her own refined nature told her that it was not the life
for a young girl. Mr. Vane's request for her head suggested a splendid hope;
and after getting angry with him for hinting at her being a model, she suddenly
decided to try it,—with the charming inconsistency of her sex. The more she
thought of it, the better she liked the idea, and resolved to ask her new
friend all about it, fondly hoping that much money could be made in this way.

 
          
           
She said nothing to her sister, but while she sat patiently to Mr. Vane when he
came next day, she asked many questions; and though somewhat discouraged by his
replies, confided to him her hopes and begged his advice. Being a wise man as
well as a good and kindly one, he saw at once that this life would not be safe
for the pretty, impulsive, and tenderly reared girl, left so unprotected in a
world full of trials and temptations. So he told her it would not do, except so
far as she would allow him to make several studies of her head in various
characters and pay for them.

 
          
           
She consented, and though much disappointed found some consolation in hoarding
a part of the handsome sum so earned for the desire of her heart.

 
          
           
The artist seemed in no haste to finish his work, and for some weeks came often
to the sittings in that quiet room; for it grew more and more attractive to
him, and while he painted the younger sister's changeful face he studied the
beautiful nature of the elder and learned to love it. But no one guessed that
secret for a long time; and Jessie was so busy racking her brain for a way to
earn more money that she was as blind and deaf to much that went on before her
as if she had been a wooden dummy.

 
          
           
Suddenly, when she least expected it, help came, and in such a delightful way
that she long remembered the little episode with girlish satisfaction. One day
as she sat wearily waiting till the dressing-room was cleared of maids and
children after the dancing-class was over, a former friend came sauntering up
to her, saying In the tone which always nettled Jessie,—

 
          
           
"You poor thing!
aren't
you tired to death trying to teach these stupid babies?"

 
          
           
"No; I love to dance, and we had new figures to-day. See! isn't this
pretty?" and Jessie, who knew her own skill and loved to display it,
twirled away as lightly as if her feet were not aching with two hours of hard
work.

 
          
           
"Lovely! I do wish I ever could learn to keep time and not jerk and
bounce. Being plump is a dreadful trial," sighed Fanny Fletcher, as Jessie
came back beaming and breathless.