American fiction -- 19th century; Artists -- Fiction
"So have I, when I find them; I am beginning to think, however,
that you men are very much alike. All you ask is a pretty face,
for you all think that you have brains enough for two. But bring
your paragon and introduce him, that I may share in your gaping
admiration."
"You would, indeed, my dear Coz, yawn over his conversation, for
you couldn't understand half of it. I think we had better remain
where we are till your shadow returns with his eyes and nose
slightly inflamed. He is aware of at least one method of becoming
a spirited youth, it seems."
"A man who is worth half a million is usually regarded as rather
substantial," she retorted.
"Yes, but in this case the money-bags outweigh the man too
ridiculously. For heaven's sake, Coz, do not make a spectacle of
yourself by marrying this attenuation, or society will assert there
was a regularly drawn bill of sale."
"I assure you that I do not intend to put myself under any man's
thumb for a long time to come. I am having too good a time; and
that reminds me that I would enjoy meeting your friend much more
than listening to your cynical speeches. Did I not know that you
were like my little King Charles--all bark rather than bite--I
wouldn't stand them; and I won't any longer, to-night. So go and
bring your great embryo artist, or he will become one of the old
masters before I see him."
"I fear I must give you a wee bit of bite this time. I have offered
to introduce him and he declines the honor."
"How is that?" she asked, flushing with anger.
"I will quote his words exactly, and then you can interpret them
as you think best. He said, 'I could not speak civilly to a lady
that I had just seen giggling and flirting through one of Beethoven's
finest symphonies.'"
The young girl's face looked anything but amiable in response to
this speech; but, after a moment, she tossed her head, and replied:
"'N'importe'--there are plenty who can use not only civil words
but complimentary ones."
"Yes, and the mischief of it is that you will listen to them and
to no others. What sort of muscle can one make who lives only on
sugar-plums?"
"They agree with me better than the vinegar drops you and your
unmannerly friend delight in. I don't believe he ever painted
anything better than a wooden squaw for one of your beloved
cigar-shops--welcome back Mr. Minty. You have been away an
unconscionably long time."
"Thanks for the compliment of being missed. I have tried to make
amends by ordering a 'petit souper' for three, for I was sure your
cousin would join us. It will be brought to one of yonder stalls,
where, while we enjoy it, we can both see and hear."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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