Artists -- Fiction; Fantasy fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction; Portraits -- Fiction
But Mr. Aiken did not say so. So, after a good
deal of time needlessly spent in preparation, the two
asked each other several times if they were ready,
shouting about the house to that effect. And then,
when they reappeared in the Studio, having
succeeded very indifferently in improving their
appearance, the lady asked the gentleman more than once
whether she looked right, and he said in a
debilitated way, Yes!--he thought so. Whereon she
took exception to his want of interest in her
appearance, and he said she needn't catch him up so short.
However, they did get away in the end, and Sairah
came in to do a little tidin' up--not often getting
the opportunity in the Studio--in pursuance of a
programme arranged between herself and her
mistress, in an aside out of hearing of her master,
in order that the latter should not interpose, as he
always did, and he knew it, to prevent anything the
least like cleanness or order. How he could go on
so was a wonder to his wife.
As for Sairah, the image of herself which she
nourished in her own mind was apparently that of
one determined to struggle single-handed to
re-establish system in the midst of a world given over
to Chaos. Whatever state the place would get
into if it wasn't for her, she couldn't tell! The
other inhabitants of the planet would never do a
hand's turn; anyone could see that! In fact, the
greater part of them devoted themselves to leavin'
things about for her to clear up. The remainder,
to gettin' in the way. When you were that werrited,
you might very easy let something drop, and no
great wonder! And things didn't show, not when
riveted, if only done careful enough. Or a little
diamond cement hotted up and the edges brought
to. There was a man they knew his address at
Pibses Dairy, over a hivory-turner's he lived, done
their ornamential pail beautiful, and you never see
a crack!
But Sairah's alacrity, when she found herself
alone in the Studio, fell short of her implied forecast
of it. Instead of taking opportunity by the
forelock, and doing the little bit of tidying up that she
stood pledged to, she gave herself up to the
contemplation of the Fine Arts.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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