And yet there was a value to good models which at first she found difficult to reconcile with this truth of personal independence. This too she thought out. “It’s like a way to do your hair,” was her method of expressing it. “You do what’s in fashion, but you twist it so that it suits your own style. It isn’t the fashion that makes you look right; it’s in being true to what suits you.”
There was, however, in Barbara Walbrook a something deeper than this which at first eluded her. It was in Rashleigh Allerton too. It was in Lisabel Anstey, and in a few other stars, but not in Mercola Merch, nor in Luciline Lynch. “It’s the whole business,” Letty summed up to herself, “and yet I don’t know what it is. Unless I can put my finger on it....”
She was just at this point when Steptoe addressed her on the subject of going out. That she do so was part of his programme. Madam would not be madam till she felt herself free to come and go; and till madam was madam Mr. Rash would not understand who it was they had in the ’ouse. That he didn’t understand it yet was partly due to madam ’erself who didn’t understand it on ’er side. To cultivate this understanding in madam was Steptoe’s immediate aim, in which Beppo, the little cocker spaniel, unexpectedly came to his assistance.
As the two stood conversing at the foot of the stairs Beppo lilted down, with that air of having no 225 one to love which he had worn during all the eighteen months since his mistress had died. The cocker spaniel’s heart, as everyone knows, is imbued with the principle of one life, one love. It has no room for two loves; it has still less room for that general amiability to which most dogs are born. Among the human race it singles out one; and to that one it is faithful. In separation it seeks no substitute; in bereavement it rarely forms a second tie. To everyone but Beppo the removal of Mrs. Allerton had made the world brighter. He alone had mourned that presence with a grief which sought neither comfort nor mitigation. He had followed his routine; he had eaten and slept; he had gone out when he was taken out and come in when he was brought in; but he had lived shut up within himself, aloof in his sorrow. For the first time in all those eighteen months he had come out of this proud gloom when Rashleigh’s key had turned in the door that night, and Letty had entered the house.
The secret call which Beppo had heard can never be understood by men till men have developed more of their latent faculties. As he lay in his basket something reached him which he recognized as a summons to a new phase of usefulness. Out of the lethargy of mourning he had jumped with an obedient leap that took him through the obscurity of the house to where a frightened girl had need of a little dog’s sympathy. Of that sympathy he had been lavish; and now that there was new discussion in the air he came with his contribution.
In words Steptoe had to be his interpreter. “That, 226 poor little dog as ’as growed so fond of madam don’t get ’alf the exercise he ought to be give. If madam was to tyke ’im out like for a little stroll up the Havenue....”
Thus it happened that in less than half an hour Letty found herself out in the October sunlight, dressed in her blue-green costume, with all the details to “correspond,” and leading Beppo on the leash. To lead Beppo on the leash, as Steptoe had perceived, gave a reason for an excursion which would otherwise have seemed motiveless. But she was out. She was out in conditions in which even Judson Flack, had he met her, could hardly have detected her. Gorgeously arrayed as she seemed to herself she was dressed with the simplicity which stamps the French taste. There was nothing to make her remarked, especially in a double procession of women so many of whom were remarkable. Had you looked at her twice you would have noted that while skill counted for much in her gentle, well-bred appearance, a subtle, unobtrusive, native distinction counted for most; but you would have been obliged to look at her twice before noting anything about her. She was a neatly dressed girl, with an air; but on that bright afternoon in Fifth Avenue neatly dressed girls with an air were as buttercups in June.
Seizing this fact Letty felt more at her ease. No one was thinking her conspicuous. She was passing in the crowd. She was not being “spotted” as the girl who a short time before had had nothing but the old gray rag to appear in. She could enjoy the walk—and forget herself.
Then it came to her suddenly that this was the secret of which she was in search, the power to forget herself. She must learn to do things so easily that she would have no self-consciousness in doing them. In big things Barbara Walbrook might think of herself; but in all little things, in the way she spoke and walked and bore herself toward others, she acted as she breathed. It seemed wonderful to Letty, this assurance that you were right in all the fundamentals. It was precisely in the fundamentals that she was so likely to be wrong. It was where girls of her sort suffered most; in the lack of the elementary. One could bluff the advanced, or make a shot at it; but the elementary couldn’t be bluffed, and no shot at it would tell. It betrayed you at once. You must have it. You must have it as you had the circulation of your blood, as something so basic that you didn’t need to consider it. That was her next discovery, as with Beppo tugging at the end of his tether she walked onward.