St. John hademployed, stood against the wall unfinished and there were others readyfor sale but nowhere to dispose of them. In the afternoon she wentout--there was no time for holidays now--in search of a market, andreturned in the evening weary, footsore, miserable, having had no luckat all with her canvasses, but--oh! the degradation to Jill'sartist-soul--having been obliged to accept as the only thing going anorder for half-a-dozen nightdress sachets--`pyjama bags' as the oily,leering, facetious individual who had given her the commission calledthem.
"There was a run on 'em," he had added, "the swells like painted satinthings to keep their night-gear in."
Jill had agreed to do the work, but she looked far from happy over it,and very nearly cried as she turned to leave the shop. The facetiousindividual had chucked her under the chin, and told her to `buck up,'and he would look round and see if there wasn't something else he couldfind her to `daub.' Then he winked at her, and Jill had broken away inhaste fearing that these overtures would lead to an embrace. And so shereached home, and that night went early to bed, and Thursday endedunhappily even as it had begun.
The next morning when she rose, the feeling of anger was stillparamount. She had suffered so keenly yesterday that she did not thinkit possible that she could feel any greater pain, and she found itdifficult to realise yet all that this sudden breaking with St. Johnmust mean. She steeled herself to meet her old pupil with composurethough she had not yet determined upon what she should say or do. Atfirst she had thought of writing and forbidding him ever to come to theArt School again, but had subsequently rejected this plan asimpracticable; what reason had she to offer? She could not say onaccount of your engagement, such an excuse would have placed her in afalse position, and given St. John a right to put what construction hechose upon her motive. The only thing that remained for her was toreceive him, and by saying as little as possible convince him howindifferent she was, and how very determined at the same time. And atnine thirty sharp he arrived, clattering up the steep stairs like anoisy schoolboy and marching through the open door straight into thestudio where Jill stood white and nervous, but outwardly calm, waitingto receive him. There was a pleased, eager, confident air about him instriking contrast to the chilling quiet of her manner, and he graspedher hand before she could prevent him with a very hearty grip of genuinesincerity.
"This is good to see you about again," he began. Then he stopped shortstruck by something in her face, and exclaimed anxiously. "Nothing thematter I hope, Miss Erskine?"
Jill was standing with her back to the light so that she had theadvantage of him that way; but St. John's sight was good and he detectedat once the suppressed agitation of her manner; though she, herself, wasunaware of it there was a whole life's tragedy in the depths of her greyeyes.
"No," she answered; "nothing beyond a trifling annoyance that I havebeen subjected to lately, and which I have determined to put an end tofor good and all. It is absurd of course and really not worthdiscussing, but these petty worries are even more trying than big ones."
"If it is not worth discussion," he said, "we'll let it slide for to-dayat any rate. I have got so much to say that is worth discussing, that Iwant to say it at once. I give you fair warning that I haven't come towork."
As a matter of fact there was no work put ready for him; but he had nottime to notice that. He was so boyish and impulsive, so gay andself-complacent that her anger gathered strength from his sheerlight-heartedness.
"Come and sit beside me on the stool by the window, Jill," he said, "andthen we can talk at our ease."
It was the first time that he had addressed her by her Christian name,and he glanced at her half smiling, half diffident, to see how she wouldtake it.
"No," she answered coldly, "what I have to say can very well be saidwhere I am, and it will be as well to get through with it at once. Youwill think it rather sudden no doubt after my note of Wednesday, but, asI told you, I have been subjected to a great deal of annoyance latelyand what I experienced yesterday has decided me to put an end to theexisting state of affairs. I regret having to spring this upon you soabruptly, and in the middle of a quarter too, but I wish you tounderstand that I cannot teach you any longer, I wish you to leave thisArt School."
St. John looked mystified and incredulous, he was astounded at herrequest, at the cold precision of her voice, and the apathy of herexpression. He felt annoyed with her and not a little hurt.
"May I enquire why you dismiss me thus suddenly?" he asked schoolinghimself to keep his vexation in check. "I should like to know what hasinduced you to act so precipitately."
"No, you may not," Jill answered crossly; "I only took you on trial,remember."
"For a quarter yes, but then the probation was over, and it is hardlyetiquette to dismiss a pupil in the middle of a term without vouchsafingany reason."
"I consider it quite sufficient that I do dismiss you," Miss Erskineresponded. "We will not discuss the matter further, if you please."
"Oh! yes, we will," he answered, his temper like her own beginning toget the upper hand. "In fact I refuse to leave without an allegedcomplaint before my term is expired; you are bound to give a propernotice."
"Not if I expel you," Jill retorted.
"Expel me!" he scoffed. "What would you expel me for? You couldn't dothat without a reason."
"But I have a reason."
"A reason!" he repeated aghast, "a reason sufficient to expel me? Whatreason pray?"
"Making love to me."
Silence followed--a depressing silence during which neither of themmoved. She had spoken in the heat of the moment, the next she couldhave bitten out her tongue for her indiscretion. St. John stared at herfully a minute. Then he smiled rudely.
"Making love to you!" he repeated. "Absurd! I have never spoken a wordof love to you in my life."
It was true; he had not, and Jill's cup of humiliation was full. Whathad induced her to make such an egregious error?
"You'll be running me in for breach of promise, I suppose?" he continuedruthlessly. "Don't you think that you're a little--a little--well,conceited to be so premature?"
Jill turned upon him wrathfully.
"How dare you speak to me like that?" she cried. "It is only whatpeople think. For myself it wouldn't have mattered whether you had madelove to me or not; I should soon have settled that."
He changed from angry crimson to dead white, and gazed at her in hurtdispleasure.
"You mean that?" he asked.
"Certainly," she answered with vindictive and unnecessary emphasis, "Iam not in the habit of prevaricating."
"Very well," he said in a tone of forced calm which contrasted ill withthe pained expression of his face, "I believe you. And under thecircumstances am quite of your opinion that further acquaintance hadbetter cease. It was a mistake my coming at all both for you and forme. Good morning, Miss Erskine, and good-bye."
He paused, thinking that perhaps her mood had been prompted by caprice,and that she might relent yet and call him back; but she made nomovement at all beyond a bend of the head, and her voice was no kinderwhen she wished him farewell. Then he went, striding down the stairsand out into the street, resentful, angry, heartsore, little guessinghow very much greater was the unhappiness he had left behind him whereJill, alone now in every sense of the word, stood battling with hergrief and her emotion, and trying to face the difficulties which seemedcrowding upon her on every side. She got out her satin work when he hadgone and started upon the sachets with eager haste, glad of themiserable order now; for it kept her employed, and diverted the train ofher thoughts. And all that day she sat working, working feverishly,dining, when the light failed so that she could see to paint no longer,off a crust of bread, the best her larder had to offer--indeed the onlything.
The next morning by the early post she received a letter from St. John.Her hand trembled so violently as she took it up that she could hardlyunfasten the envelope, but, finally tearing it open she withdrew thecontents, a
sheet of notepaper with St. John's compliments inscribedthereon, and enclosed within a cheque for the fee paid in full up to theend of the present quarter. The cheque fell to the ground unheeded butthe sheet of paper Jill spread out on the table before her and then satstaring at it as though she could not take it in. It was the firstbrief missive of the sort that she had received; its very brevitychilled her. "With Mr St. John's compliments." So he had accepted hisdismissal? It was better so, of course; but it was very hard to bearall the same.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
It was the Tuesday following that miserable and never to be forgottenFriday. Jill had been out in the morning to