“But why should you care about removing it? I acknowledge tattooing is not nice, on the epidermis of a gentleman; and I’ve met scores, like yourself, sorry for having submitted to it. After all, what does it signify? Nobody need ever see it, unless you wish them to.”
“There’s where you mistake. Somebody might see it, without my wishing—sure to see it, if ever I get—”
“What?”
“Spliced.”
“Ah! Iñez?”
“Yes; Iñez. Now you understand why I’d like to spend a day or two among the South Sea Islanders. If I can’t get the thing rubbed out, I’ll be in a pretty mess about it. I know Iñez would be indulgent in a good many ways; but when she sees that blue image on my arm, she’ll look black enough. And what am I to say to her? I told her, she was the first sweetheart I ever had; as you know, Ned, a little bit of a fib. Only a white one; for the Chileña was but a mere fancy, gone out of my mind long ago; as, no doubt, I am out of hers. The question is, how’s her picture to be got out of my skin? I’d give something to know.”
“If that’s all your trouble, you needn’t be at any expense—except what you may tip old Grummet. You say he has not completed the portrait of your Chileña. That’s plain enough, looking at the shortness of her skirts. Now let him go on, and lengthen them a little. Then finish by putting a Spanish flag over her head, instead of the Chilian, as you intended, and underneath the initials ‘I.A.’ With that on your arm, you may safely show it to Iñez.”
“A splendid idea! The very thing! The only difficulty is, that this picture of the Chilian girl isn’t anything like as good-looking as Iñez. Besides, it would never pass for her portrait.”
“Let me see. I’m not so sure about that. I think, with a few more touches, it will stand well enough for your Andalusian. Grummet’s given her all the wealth of hair you’re so constantly bragging about. The only poverty’s in that petticoat. But if you get the skirt stretched a bit, that will remedy it. You want sleeves, too, to make her a lady. Then set a tall tortoise-shell comb upon her crown, with a spread of lace over it, hanging down below the shoulders—the mantilla—and you’ll make almost as good an Andalusian of her as is Iñez herself.”
“By Jove! you’re right; it can be done. The bit added to the skirt will look like a flounced border; the Spanish ladies have such on their dresses. I’ve seen them. And a fan—they have that too. She must have one.”