On the first of March, Conway Dalrymple's easel was put up in Mrs Dobbs Broughton's boudoir upstairs, the canvas was placed upon it on which the outlines of Jael and Sisera had been already drawn, and Mrs Broughton and Clara Van Siever and Conway Dalrymple were assembled with the view of steady art-work. But before we see how they began their work together, we will go back for a moment to John Eames on his return to his London lodgings. The first thing every man does when he returns home after an absence, is to look for his letters, and John Eames looked at his. There were not very many. There was a note marked immediate from Sir Raffle Buffle, in which Sir R had scrawled in four lines a notification that he should be driven to an extremity of inconvenience if Eames were not at his post at half-past nine on the following morning. 'I think I see myself there at that hour,' said John. There was a notification of a house dinner, which he was asked to join, at his club, and a card for an evening gathering at Lady Glencora Palliser's--procured for him by his friend Conway--and an invitation for dinner at the house of his uncle Mr Toogood; and there was a scented noted in the handwriting of a lady, which he did not recognise. 'My dearest, dearest friend, M D M,' he said, as he opened the note and looked at the signature. Then he read the letter from Miss Demolines.
'MY DEAR MR EAMES, 'Pray come to me at once. I know that you are to be back tomorrow. Do not lose an hour if you can help it. I shall be at home at half-past five. I fear what you know of has begun.
But it certainly shall not go on. In one way or another it must be prevented. I won't say another word till I see you, but pray come at once--Yours always, 'Thursday.'
M D M' 'Poor mother isn't very well, so you had better ask for me.'
'Beautiful!' said Johnny, as he read the note. 'There's nothing I like so much as a mystery--especially if it's about nothing. I wonder why she is so desperately anxious that the picture should not be painted. I'd ask Dalrymple, only I should spoil the mystery.' Then he sat himself down, and began to think of Lily. There could be no treason to Lily in his amusing himself with the freaks of such a woman as Miss Demolines.
At eleven o'clock on the morning of the first of March--the day following that on which Miss Demolines had written her note--the easel was put up and the canvas was placed on it in Mrs Broughton's room. Mrs Broughton and Clara were both there, and when they had seen the outlines as far as it had been drawn, they proceeded to make arrangements for their future operations. The period of work was to begin always at eleven, and was to be continued for an hour and a half or for two hours on the days on which they met. I fear that there was a little improper scheming in this against the two persons whom the ladies were bound to obey. Mr Dobbs Broughton invariably left his house after ten in the morning. It would sometimes happen, though not frequently, that he returned home early in the day--at four perhaps, or even before that;and should he chance to do so while the picture was going on, he would catch them at their work if the work were postponed till after luncheon.
And then again Mrs Van Siever would often go out in the morning, and when she did so, would always go without her daughter. On such occasion she went into the City, or to other resorts of business, at which, in some manner quite unintelligible to her daughter, she looked after her money. But when she did not go out in the morning, she did go out in the afternoon, and she would then require her daughter's company. There was some place to which she always went of a Friday morning, and at which she stayed for two or three hours. Friday therefore was a fitting day on which to begin the work at Mrs Broughton's house. All this was explained between the three conspirators. Mrs Dobbs Broughton declared that if she entertained the slightest idea that her husband would object to the painting of the picture in her room, nothing on earth would induce her to lend her countenance to it; but yet it might be well not to tell him just at first, perhaps not till the sittings were over--perhaps not till the picture was finished; as otherwise, tidings of the picture might get round to ears which were not intended to hear it. 'Poor dear Dobbs is so careless with a secret.' Miss Van Siever explained her motives in a different way. 'I know mamma would not let me do it if she knew it; and therefore I shall not tell her.' 'My dear Clara,' said Mrs Broughton with a smile 'you are so outspoken!' 'And why not?' said Miss Van Siever. 'I am old enough to judge for myself. If mamma does not want me to be deceived, she ought not to treat me as a child. Of course she'll find it out sooner or later; but I don't care about that.' Conway Dalrymple said nothing as the two ladies were thus excusing themselves.
'How delightful it must be not to have a master,' said Mrs Broughton, addressing him. 'But then a man has to work for his own bread,' said he.
'I suppose it comes about equal in the long run.'
Very little drawing or painting was done on that day. In the first place it was necessary that the question of costume should be settled, and both Mrs Broughton and the artist had much to say on that subject.
