How Kiki—du Maurier—carried out his threat in "Trilby," and what resulted from it, all the world knows.
By the way, the mention of "Trilby" reminds me of a story about Mr. du Maurier's own Trilby which is perhaps worth recording. Du Maurier for some years lived on the top of Hampstead Heath, rather inaccessible for models. But more than once friends asked him to take a sitting from some lady or another, as he, drawing fashionable ladies, was different, perhaps, from painters using models for costumes or, as du Maurier would say, for the "altogether." In this way a model was introduced to him, and, to his surprise, she drove up to his house in a hansom, and he heard her asking one of the servants for change of a sovereign to pay the cabman. She did not sit very well, so after a short time Mr. du Maurier told her that he only drew from models for part of the day, and, rather apologetically, said he of course did not pay for the whole of the usual day's sitting. And she said:
PUNCH STAFF RETURNING FROM PARIS.
(The original hangs on the wall of Mr. Punch's dining room.)
"Oh, thanks! I am only too pleased to sit for a short time. But would you kindly ask one of your servants to fetch me a hansom?"
This made the artist more than ever miserable, and he said:
"Excuse me, but perhaps you are not aware we only pay a modest amount for sitters; in fact, I generally pay five shillings for two hours—aw——"
"You don't mean to say you are really going to give me five shillings? Oh, how kind of you! It will just pay half my cab fare home. I didn't know I was going to be so lucky." And she vanished, leaving the artist more bewildered than ever.
Some time afterwards, in Hyde Park, he was surprised to see a carriage beautifully appointed pulled up to where he was standing, and a lady lean out and say: