Part 33 (2/2)
Lambert observed in a tone that almost overcame the miserable Hyacinth.
”Not really-that is-with me, sir, Art is an-an avocation, as you might say-”
”Ah! And what might your _vo_cation be?”
Mr. Montgomery waved his hand.
”That, sir, is inconstant, variable.”
”I am not surprised that it _is_,” remarked Mr. Lambert, and after that, he withdrew into his sh.e.l.l of icy silence, evidently waiting for further developments before he expressed his opinion of P. Hyacinth still more plainly.
In Jane, Elise found a highly sympathetic confidante, but even Jane was prompted to ask frankly,
”But what does he do, Elise? Does he sell his pictures?”
”He does,” cried Elise. ”He's sold _three_! He did a perfectly lovely design once for a stationer's advertising calendar-it was a picture of a girl, he said, with a lot of red roses in her arms. And he did a picture of some wild animals for a sportsman's den.”
”And what was the other one?”
”I-he didn't tell me. We started to talk of something else. Oh, Jane, are you going to be horrid about him, too?” cried Elise, suddenly bursting into tears. Then, having grown quite artful where any defense of her suitor was necessary, she added, ”Paul was an artist, and you didn't laugh at _him_!” To Jane it seemed hardly worth while to point out what appeared to her to be the many differences between Paul and Mr.
Montgomery. So she disregarded Elise's challenge, and putting both arms around her sister, said half-laughing,
”You know I'm not going to be horrid about him. I like him very much.”
”Do you really, Janey?” asked Elise, brightening. ”Oh, Jane you can't imagine how unselfish he is. He-he said he'd give up everything for me.
He said he'd break stones in a quarry-boo-hoo!” And here Elise again dissolved into tears.
”Well, he won't, dear,” said Jane comfortingly, ”I mean-that is-he probably won't have to. There are so many other things that he could do, you see. What else did he say?”
”What else? Oh, well-not very much,” answered Elise, blus.h.i.+ng, and beginning to dimple. ”He said that-he-he'd have to have a talk with father.”
”Good gracious! Then he-oh, Elise!”
”Only he's _so_ afraid of Papa. Of course, Janey, you must understand that Mr. Montgomery hasn't-you know-hasn't-that is, I know he likes me, but he hasn't said so. He says he can't, until he's talked to Papa; he says that wouldn't be honorable. And Papa won't give him a chance!” And once more, Elise began to weep gently.
”Don't cry, Elise darling-father _will_ give him a chance,” said Jane; but these words of comfort only elicited sobs from Elise.
”That's what I'm afraid of!” she wailed disconsolately.
This state of affairs seemed hopelessly complicated to Jane. It had no points in common with the romance of Lily and Mr. Sheridan, and in this fact Elise found a certain melancholy satisfaction. Elise of course kept Lily well-posted on the details of her own affair of the heart, and unconsciously a.s.sumed a certain superiority in recounting and describing her difficulties that almost irritated the sweet tempered and sympathetic Lily.
”_I_ was very unhappy, too,” said Lily; but Elise shook her head as if to say, ”What opposition did _you_ meet with?”
Jane simply looked on, vastly interested in this new development of domestic happenings, but exceedingly dubious as to the outcome. Mrs.
Lambert was, of course, deeply sympathetic with her daughter, and Mr.
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