The Tinted Venus: A Farcical Romance

by F. Anstey

  A FURTHER PREDICAMENT

  VII.

  "So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue."

  _Browning._

  Immediately after breakfast the next day, Leander went out and paid avisit to Miss Twilling's, bringing away with him a hooded cloak of theprecise kind he remembered Matilda to have described as unlikely torender its owner conspicuous. With this garment he succeeded indisguising the statue to such a degree, that it was far less likely thanbefore that the goddess's appearance in public would excite anyparticular curiosity--a result which somewhat relieved his anxiety as toher future proceedings.

  But all that day his thoughts were busy with Matilda. He must, hefeared, have deeply offended her by his abrupt change on the previousnight; and now he could not expect to meet her again for days, and wouldnot know how to explain his conduct if he did meet her.

  If he could only dare to tell her everything; but from such a course heshrank. Matilda would not only be extremely indignant (though, in verytruth, he had done nothing positively wrong as yet), but, with herstrict notions and well-regulated principles, she would assuredlyrecoil from a lover who had brought himself into a predicament sohideous. He would tell her all when, or if, he succeeded in extricatinghimself.

  But he was to learn the nature of Matilda's sentiments sooner than heexpected. It was growing dusk, and he was unpacking a parcel of goods inhis front shop--for his saloon happened to be empty just then--when theouter door swung back, and a slight girlish figure entered, after apause of indecision on the threshold. It was Matilda.

  Had she come to break it off--to reproach him? He was prepared for noless; she had never paid him a visit like this alone before; and somedoubts of the propriety of the thing seemed to be troubling her now, forshe did not speak.

  "Matilda," he faltered, "don't tell me you have come in a spirit ofunpleasantness, for I can't bear it."

  "Don't you deserve that I should?" she said, but not angrily. "You know,you were very strange in behaving as you did last night. I couldn't tellwhat to make of it."

  "I know," he said confusedly; "it was something come over me, all of asudden like. I can't understand what made me like that; but, oh, Tillie,my dearest love, my 'art was busting with adoration all the time! Thecircumstances was highly peculiar; but I don't know that I could explainthem."

  "You needn't, Leander; I have found you out." She said this with astrange significance.

  "What!" he almost shrieked. "You don't mean it, Matilda! Tell me, quick!has the discovery changed your feelings towards me? Has it?"

  "Yes," she said softly. "I--I think it has; but you ought not to havedone it, Leander."

  "I know," he groaned. "I was a fool, Tillie; a fool! But I may get outof it yet," he added. "I can get her to let me off. I must--I will!"

  Matilda opened her eyes. "But, Leander dear, listen; don't be so hasty.I never said I _wanted_ her to let you off, did I?"

  He looked at her in a dazed manner. "I rather thought," he said slowly,"that it might have put you out a little. I see I was mistook."

  "You might have known that I should be more pleased than angry, I shouldthink," said Matilda.

  "More pleased than----I might have known!" exclaimed the bewildered man."Oh, you can't reely be taking it as cool as this! Will you kindlyinform me _what_ it is you're alludin' to in this way?"

  "What is the use of pretending? You know I know. And it _is_ colder,much colder, this morning. I felt it directly I got up."

  "Quite a change in the weather, I'm sure," he said mechanically; "itfeels like a frost coming on." ("Has Matilda looked in to tell me theweather's changed?" he was wondering within himself. "Either I'm mad, orMatilda is.")

  "You dear old goose!" said Matilda, with an unusual effusiveness; "youshan't tease me like this! Do you think I've no eyes and no feelings?Any girl, I don't care how proud or offended, would come round on suchproof of devotedness as I've had this evening. When I saw it gone, Ifelt I must come straight in and thank you, and tell you I shouldn'tthink any more of last night. I couldn't stop myself."

  "When you saw _what_ gone?" cried the hairdresser, rubbing up his hair.

  "The cloak," said Matilda; and then, as she saw his expression, her ownchanged. "Leander Tweddle," she asked, in a dry hard voice, "have I beenmaking a wretched fool of myself? _Didn't_ you buy that cloak?"

  He understood at last. He had gone to Miss Twilling's chiefly because hewas in a hurry and it was close by, and he knew nowhere else where hecould be sure of getting what he required. Now, by some supreme strokeof the ill-luck which seemed to be pursuing him of late, he hadunwittingly purchased the identical garment on which Matilda had fixedher affections! How was he to notice that they took it out of the windowfor him?

  All this flashed across him as he replied, "Yes, yes, Tillie, I did buya cloak there; but are you sure it was the same you told me about?"

  "Do you think a woman doesn't know the look of a thing like that, whenit's taken her fancy?" said Matilda. "Why, I could tell you every claspand tassel on that cloak; it wasn't one you'd see every day, and I knewit was gone the moment I passed the window. It quite upset me, for I'dset my heart on it so; and I ran in to Miss Twilling, and asked her whathad become of it; and when she said she'd sold it that morning, Ithought I should have fainted. You see, it never struck me that it couldbe you; for how could I dream that you'd be clever enough to go andchoose the very one? Leander, it _was_ clever of you!"

  "Yes," he said, with a bitter rail against himself. "I'm a clever chap,I am! But how did you find out?"

  "Oh, I made Miss Twilling (I often get little things there), I made herdescribe who she sold it to, and she said she thought it was to agentleman in the hair-cutting persuasion who lived near; and then, ofcourse, I guessed who bought it."

  "Tillie," gasped Leander, "I--I didn't _mean_ you to guess; the purposefor which I require that cloak is my secret."

  "Oh, you silly man, when I've guessed it! And I take it just as kind ofyou as if it was to be all a surprise. I was wishing as I came along Icould afford to buy it at once, it struck so cold coming out of ourplace; and you had actually bought it for me all the time! Thank youever so much, Leander dear!"

  He had only to accept the position; and he did. "I'm glad you'repleased," he said; "I intended it as a surprise."

  "And I am surprised," said Matilda; "because, do you know, last night,when I went home, I was feeling very cross with you. I kept thinkingthat perhaps you didn't care for me any more, and were trying to breakit off; and, oh, all sorts of horrid things I kept thinking! And auntgave me a message for you this morning, and I was so out of temper Iwouldn't leave it. And now to find you've been so kind!"

  She stretched out her hand to him across the counter, and he took andheld it tight; he had never seen her looking sweeter, nor felt that shewas half so dear to him. After all, his blunder had brought themtogether again, and he was grateful to it.

  At last Matilda said, "You were quite right about this wrapper, Leander;it's not half warm enough for a night like this. I'm really afraid to gohome in it."

  He knew well enough what she intended him to do; but just then he darednot appear to understand. "It isn't far, only to Millman Street," hesaid; "and you must walk fast, Tillie. I wish I could leave the shop andcome too."

  "You want me to ask you downright," she said pouting. "You men can'teven be kind prettily. Don't you want to see how I look in your cloak,Leander?"

  What could he say after that? He must run upstairs, deprive the goddessof her mantle, and hand it over to Matilda. She had evidently made upher mind to have that particular cloak, and he must buy the statueanother. It would be expensive; but there was no help for it.

  "Certainly," he said, "you shall have it now, dearest, if you'd like to.I'll run up and fetch it down, if you'll wait."

  He rushed upstairs, two steps at a time, and, flinging open the door ofa cupboard, began d
esperately to uncloak his Aphrodite. She was lifelessstill, which he considered fortunate.

  But the goddess seemed to have a natural propensity to retain any formof portable property. One of her arms was so placed that, tug andstretch as he would, Leander could not get the cloak from her shoulders,and his efforts only broke one of the oxidized silver fastenings, andtore part of the squirrel's-fur lining.

  It was useless, and with a damp forehead he came down again to hisexpectant _fiancee_.

  "Why, you haven't got it, after all!" she cried, her face falling.

  "Tillie, my own dear girl," he said, "I'm uncommon sorry, upon my soul Iam, but you can't have that cloak this evening."

  "But why, Leander, why?"

  "Because one of the clasps is broke. It must be sent back to berepaired."

  "I don't mind that. Let me have it just as it is."

  "And the lining's torn. No, Matilda, I shan't make you a present of adamaged article. I shall send it back. They must change it for me."("Then," he thought, "I can buy my Matilda another.")

  "I don't care for any other but that," she said; "and you can't matchit."

  "Oh, lor!" he thought, "and she knows every inch of it. The goddess mustgive it up; it'll be all the same to _her_. Very well then, dearest, you_shall_ have that, but not till it's done up. I must have my way inthis; and as soon as ever I can, I'll bring it round."

  "Leander, could you bring it me by Sunday," she said eagerly, "when youcome?"

  "Why Sunday?" he asked.

  "Because--oh, that was the message your aunt asked me to bring you; itwas in a note, but I've lost it. She told me what was inside though, andit's this. Will you give her the pleasure of your company at her mid-daydinner at two o'clock, to be introduced to mamma? And she said you wereto be sure and not forget her ring."

  He tottered for a moment. The ring! Yes, there was that to be got off,too, besides the cloak.

  "Haven't you got the ring from Vidler's yet?" she said. "He's had itsuch a time."

  He had told her where he had left it for alterations. "Yes," he said,"he has had it a time. It's disgraceful the way that old Vidler pottersand potters. I shall go round and 'urry him up. I won't stand it anylonger."

  Here a customer came in, and Matilda slipped away with a hurriedgood-bye.

  "I've got till Sunday to get straight," the hairdresser thought, as heattended on the new comer, "the best part of a week; surely I can talkthat Venus over by that time."

  When he was alone he went up to see her, without losing a moment. Hemust have left the door unlocked in his haste, for she was standingbefore the low chimney-glass, regarding herself intently. As he came inshe turned.

  SHE WAS STANDING BEFORE THE LOW CHIMNEY-GLASS, REGARDINGHERSELF INTENTLY.]

  "Who has done all this?" she demanded. "Tell me, was it you?"

  "I did take the liberty, mum," he faltered guiltily.

  "You have done well," she said graciously. "With reverent and lovingcare have you imparted hues as of life to these cheeks, and decked myimage in robes of costly skins."

  "Don't name it, mum," he said.

  "But what are these?" she continued, raising a hand to the lightringlets on her brow. "I like them not--they are unseemly. The wavinglines, parted by the bold chisel of a Grecian sculptor, resemble myambrosial tresses more nearly than this abomination."

  "You may go all over London," said Leander, "and you won't find acoiffure, though I say it, to set closer and defy detection morenaturally than the one you've got on; selected from the best importedforeign hair in the market, I do assure you."

  "I accept the offering for the spirit in which it was presented, thoughI approve it not otherwise."

  "You'll find it wear very comfortable," said Leander; "but that cloak,now I come to see it on, it reely is most unworthy of you, a veryinferior piece of goods, and, if you'll allow me, I'll change it," andhe gently extended his hand to draw it off.

  "Touch it not," said the goddess; "for, having once been placed upon myeffigy, it is consecrated to my service."

  "For mercy's sake, let me get another one--one with more style aboutit," he entreated; "my credit hangs on it!"

  "I am content," she said, "more than content. No more words--I retainit. And you have pleased me by this conduct, my hairdresser. Unknown itmay be, even to yourself, your heart is warming in the sunshine of myfavour; you are coy and wayward, but you are yielding. Though pent inthis form, carved by a mortal hand, I shall prevail in the end. I shallhave you for my own."

  He rumpled his hair wildly, "'Orrid obstinate these goddesses are," hethought. "What am I to say to Matilda now? If I could only find a way ofgetting this statue shut up somewhere where she couldn't come and botherme, I'd take my chance of the rest. I can't go on with this sort ofthing every evening. I'm sick and tired of it."

  Then something occurred to him. "Could I delude her into it?" he askedhimself. "She's soft enough in some things, and, for all she's agoddess, she don't seem up to our London ways yet. I'll have a try,anyway."

  So he began: "Didn't I understand you to observe, mum, some time back,that the pidgings and sparrers were your birds?"

  "They are mine," she said--"or they were mine in days that are past."

  "Well," he said, "there's a place close by, with railings in front ofit, and steps and pillars as you go in, and if you like to go and lookin the yard there you'll find pidgings enough to set you up again. Ishouldn't wonder if they've been keeping them for you all this time."

  "They shall not lose by it," she said. "Go thither, and bring me mybirds."

  "I think," he said, "it would be better if you'd go yourself; they don'tknow me at the British Museum. But if you was to go to the beadle at thelodge and demand them, I've no doubt you'd be attended to; and you'llsee some parties at the gates in long coats and black cloth 'elmets,which if you ask them to ketch you a few sparrers, they'll probably bemost happy to oblige."

  "My beloved birds!" she said. "I have been absent from them so long.Yes, I will go. Tell me where."

  He got his hat, and went with her to a corner of Bloomsbury Square, fromwhich they could see the railings fronting the Museum in thesteel-tinted haze of electric light.

  "That's the place," he said. "Keeps its own moonshine, you see. Gostraight in, and tell 'em you're come to fetch your doves."

  "I will do so," she said, and strode off in imperious majesty.

  He looked after her with an irrepressible chuckle.

  "If she ain't locked up soon, I don't know myself," he said, and wentback to his establishment.

  He had only just dismissed his apprentice and secured the shop for thenight, when he heard the well-known tread up the staircase. "Back again!I don't have any luck," he muttered; and with reason, for the statue,wearing an expression of cold displeasure, advanced into his room. Hefelt a certain sense of guilt as he saw her.

  "Got the birds?" he inquired, with a nervous familiarity, "or couldn'tyou bring yourself to ask for them?"

  "You have misled me," she said. "My birds are not there. I came to gatesin front of a stately pile--doubtless erected to some god; at theentrance stood a priest, burly and strong, with gold-embroideredgarments----"

  ("The beadle, I suppose," commented Leander.)

  "I passed him unseen, and roamed unhindered over the courtyard. It wasbare, save for one or two worshippers who crossed it. Presently a wingedthing fluttered down to my feet. But though a dove indeed, it was nobird of mine--it knew me not. And it was draggled, begrimed, uncleanly,as never were the doves of Aphrodite. And the sparrows (for these, too,did I see), they were worse. I motioned them from me with loathing. Irenounced them all. Thus, Leander, have I fared in following yourcounsels!"

  "Well, it ain't my fault," he said; "it's the London soot makes themlike that. There's some at the Guildhall: perhaps they're cleaner."

  "No," she said, vehemently; "I will seek no further. This is a city ofdarkness and mire. I am in a land, an age, which know me not: this muchhave I learnt already. The w
orld was fairer and brighter of old!"

  "You see," said Leander, "if you only go about at night, you can'texpect sunshine! But I'm told there's cleaner and brighter places to beseen abroad--if you cared to go there?" he insinuated.

  "To one place only, to my Cyprian caves, will I go," she declared, "andwith you!"

  "We'll talk about that some other time," he answered, soothingly. "LadyVenus, look here, don't you think you've kept that ring long enough?I've asked you civilly enough, goodness knows, to 'and it over, timeswithout number. I ask you once more to act fair. You know it came to youquite accidental, and yet you want to take advantage of it like this. Itain't right!"

  She met this with her usual scornful smile. "Listen, Leander," she said."Once before--how long since I know not--a mortal, in sport or accident,placed his ring as you have done upon the finger of a statue erected tome. I claimed fulfilment of the pledge then, as now; but a force Icould not withstand was invoked against me, and I was made to give upthe ring, and with it the power and rights I strove to exert. But I willnot again be thwarted: no force, no being shall snatch you from me; sobe not deceived. Submit, ere you excite my fierce displeasure; submitnow, since in the end submit you must!"

  There was a dreadful force in the sonorous tones which made him shiver;a rigid inflexible will lurked in this form, with all its subtle curvesand feminine grace. If goddesses really retained any power in thesedays, there could be no doubt that she would use hers to the full.

  Yet he still struggled. "I can't make you give up the ring," he said;"but no more you can't make me leave my--my establishment, and go awayunderground with you. I'm an Englishman, I am, and Englishmen are free,mum; p'r'aps you wasn't aware of that? I've got a will of my own, and soyou'll find it!"

  "Poor worm!" she said pityingly (and the hairdresser hated to beaddressed as a poor worm), "why oppose thy weak will to mine? Why enlistmy pride against thyself; for what hast thou of thine own to render thyconquest desirable? Thou art bent upon defiance, it seems. I leave theeto reflect if such a combat can be equal. Farewell; and at my nextcoming let me find a change!"

  And the spirit of the goddess fled, as before, to the mysterious realmsfrom which she had been so incautiously evoked, leaving Leander almostfrantic with rage, superstitious terror, and baffled purposes.

  "I must get the ring off," he muttered, "_and_ the cloak, somehow. Oh!if I could only find out how----There was that other chap--_he_ got off;she said as much. If I could get out how he managed it, why couldn't Ido the same? But who's to tell me? She won't--not if she knows it! Iwonder if it's in any history. Old Freemoult would know it if itwas--he's such a scholar. Why, he gave me a name for that 'airwashwithout having to think twice over it! I'll try and pump old Freemoult.I'll do it to-morrow, too. I'll see if I'm to be domineered over by aimage out of a tea-garden. Eh? I--I don't care if she _did_ hear me!"

  So Leander went to his troubled pillow, full of this new resolution,which seemed to promise a way of escape.