“Me? What for?” Elizabeth showed her surprise.
“Dear innocent, because I feel the mantle of Titian falling upon my shoulders, I suppose. I can’t imagine any other reason. I might stick a suggestion of you in this picture I am starting; you and your pussywillows would come in nicely. Suppose you go over there for a minute, just there where the sun is shining. I won’t keep you long. Oh dear, you must take off your cap. I don’t want the glory of that auroral halo to be lost. That’s it. Now look this way for a minute. Good! Hold the bunch of pussies in your arms this way. That’s it.” He worked away earnestly and rapidly for several minutes. The time seemed very long to Elizabeth, although she was buoyed up by the excitement of going through such an unusual experience. At last she shifted her position, becoming more and more restless, and wondering how much longer she would have to stand.
“There, time’s up,” said the young man at last. “You did pretty well. It’s no fun to be a model, I know. How would you like to be at it all day? Some persons earn their living that way you know.”
Elizabeth thought it must be a very tiresome way of making one’s living and was glad she did not have to do it. She came back to see what the artist had made of her, and was rather disappointed to see a few daubs which did not represent a true likeness of Elizabeth Hollins, she thought.
“If you stand off a little it will look more like,” suggested her friend.
Elizabeth went off a short distance and, to her surprise, found that there was a distinct image of a little girl with shining hair standing in the background of the picture. “Why, that does look like me,” she exclaimed.
“You didn’t think it possible, did you, Elfie? Well, we all have to learn. I will try to finish this up tomorrow. Shall we walk your way? You can show me where you live and then I will go on to the Mansion House. I cannot say that I would be overcome with joy if I had to think of staying there long, but it is the best there is, I am told.”
“It is rather smelly,” Elizabeth acknowledged. “I shouldn’t like to live there myself.”
“Smelly, my dear Elfie? I am surprised. Why not malodorous or mephitic, or some such adjective. One who follows the style of the respected Dr. Johnson should not use such a very ordinary word as smelly. Now, if I said smelly, it would be all right, for I do not aim at anything but extreme simplicity in speech as in other things.”
Elizabeth felt that he was making fun of her, but he did it so good-naturedly that she could not take offence, so she only laughed and they walked on, the artist carrying his box in one hand and a lot of wet brushes in the other. Elizabeth wondered why he did not put the brushes in the box.