Artists -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
Geoffrey laughed as he said, "Well, no; not quite so much as that.
Recollect, I intend to take my wife out occasionally; and besides, I've
promised to give some drawing lessons."
"What!" shrieked Mr. Stompff; "drawing-lessons! a man in your position
give drawing-lessons! I never heard such madness! You musn't do that,
Ludlow."
The words were spoken so decidedly that Margaret bit her lips, and
turned to look at her husband, whose face flushed a deep red, and whose
voice stuttered tremendously as he gasped out, "B-but I shall! D-don't
you say 'must,' please, to me, Mr. Stompff; because I don't like it;
and I don't know what the d-deuce you mean by using such a word!"
Mr. Stompff glanced at Margaret, whose face expressed the deepest
disgust; so clearly perceiving the mistake he had made, he said, "Well,
of course I only spoke as a friend; and when one does that he needn't
be in much doubt as to his reward. When I said 'must,' which seems to
have riled you so, Ludlow, I said it for your own sake. However, you
and I sha'n't fall out about that. Don't you give your pictures to any
one else, and we shall keep square enough. Where are you going to give
drawing-lessons, if one may be bold enough to ask?"
"In St. Barnabas Square, to a young lady, a very old friend of mine,
and a _protégée_ of Lord Caterham's," said Geoffrey, whose momentary
ire had died out.
"O, Lord Caterham's! that queer little deformed chap. Good little
fellow, too, they say he is; sharp, and all that kind of thing. Well,
there's no harm in that. I thought you were going on the philanthropic
dodge--to schools and working-men, and that lay. There's one rule in
life,--you never lose any thing by being civil to a bigwig; and this
little chap, I daresay, has influence in his way. By the way, you might
ask him to give a look in at my gallery, if he's passing by. Never does
any harm, that kind of thing. Well, I can't stay here all day. Men of
business must always be pushing on, Mrs. Ludlow. Good day to you; and,
I say, when--hem! there's any thing to renounce the world, the flesh,
and the--hey, you understand? any body wanted to promise and vow,
you know,--I'm ready; send for me. I've got my eye on a silver thug
already. Goodbye, Ludlow; see you next week. Three before next May,
recollect, and all for me. Ta-ta!" and Mr. Stompff stepped into his
cab, and drove off, kissing his fat pudgy little hands, with a great
belief in Geoffrey Ludlow and a holy horror of his wife.
In the course of the next few days Geoffrey wrote to Lord Caterham,
telling him that he was quite ready to commence Miss Maurice's
instruction; and shortly afterwards received an answer naming a day for
the lessons to commence. On arriving at the house Geoff was shown into
Lord Caterham's room, and there found Annie waiting to receive him.
Geoff advanced, and shook hands warmly; but he thought Miss Maurice's
manner was a little more reserved than on the last occasion of their
meeting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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