"There's only one sensible thing for yer to do, Evarne, my gal, and that's to follow in my footsteps. Needlework and sich-like may be all right for some, but for you—why, it's jist a wicked waste of Gawd's gifts. Now, I'll tell yer, when yer was ill and me and Smithkins was givin' my dolly a bath, I says to 'er, I says, 'My gosh, what a lovely gal!' and Smithkins she says——Now, whatever are yer blushin' for, my dear? You are a real lovely gal, and I speaks as one who knows what's what. I never seemed to notice it when yer was bundled up in clothes; that's the way with the best of us, we never appears to advantage in togs. It's the skinny women with waists the size of their ankles, what no hartist would so much as look at; or them females as is bundles of fat what wouldn't look human if they wasn't packed up tidy into corsets—they're the sort what looks best in their clothes. Beautiful women like you and me looks better and better as we undresses more and more. You'll make a fortune as a model, and you'll be a bigger fool than I take yer for if yer chucks away that fortune."
Evarne remained silent, pondering over this suggestion. Instant objections sprang to her mind, but at the same time came the conviction that here indeed was a means of earning a livelihood for which she was undeniably well qualified. Her own experience as an artist had taught her both the value and the rarity of a figure, beautiful from an artistic point of view. At the same time....
Mrs. Harbert broke in upon her reflections.
"Perhaps yer was thinkin' it ain't proper."
But the girl shook her head immediately.
"No," she declared. "I studied Art myself, and painted from the nude, when I was better off, so I should have got rid of any ideas of that sort, even if I had ever had them; but I never had. I was just thinking that it really was a brilliant notion of yours, but that I didn't quite like it somehow. Still, I believe that if you hadn't spoken just then, I should have gone on to reflect that beggars can't be choosers."
"Ah, Shakespeare! But why don't yer like it, if yer ain't shocked? It's the nicest profession in the world. Takes yer among sich 'igh-class people—real ladies and gentlemen—and into sich nice warm rooms. And what's more, yer can go on till yer are as old as old—as a costume model anyway. Of course, while you're young, the sun shines, and yer bucks up and makes yer 'ay accordin'. Yer can earn pounds a week sometimes, quite easy. Look at me—I'm a middle-aged one now, yet I makes a pretty fair livin' by it, and don't overwork myself neither."
"How would I start to get work? Is it difficult to get up a connection?" inquired the girl dubiously.
"Not for the likes of you. You'd only 'ave to show yerself. But yer still looks ill, and you're ever so weak. You've got to be strong to 'stand,' I can tell yer. 'Tain't no use beginnin' yet. I wish we could git yer away to the seaside.
"I'll get well quickly in London now—I will really. I'll go out into the parks every day for fresh air, and be as strong as ever I was in no time. You shall see."