GARRICK'S PUPIL.

GARRICK'S PUPIL

By AUGUSTIN FILON

Translated by

J. V. PRICHARD

Illustrated

CHICAGO

A. C. McCLURG & COMPANY

1893

Copyright,

By A. C. McClurg & Co.

A. D. 1893.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

PAINTER AND MODEL.

Just as the third hour of the afternoon had sounded from the belfry of Saint Martin's-in-the-Fields, a hackney coach drew up before the most pretentious mansion upon the west side of Leicester Fields; and while the coachman hastened to agitate the heavy door-knocker, a young woman, almost a child, sprang out upon the pavement without waiting to have the shaky steps unfolded and lowered for her convenience. Her dust-colored mantle, disarranged by her rapid movements, revealed a rich costume beneath; while the dazzled passer-by might have caught a glimpse, amidst the whiteness of the elevated skirts, of a tiny pair of red satin slippers and two slender, exquisitely moulded ankles finely clad in silken hose with embroidered clocks.

The girl turned and assisted a more aged woman, leaning upon a crutch-headed cane, to descend. This lady wore the big straw bonnet and gray gown of the Quaker persuasion,—a rigidly simple costume, which occasionally is becoming to extreme youth, but rarely enhances maturer charms.

It was one of those glorious days of the English springtide when life seems endurable even to the hapless, grateful even to the invalid. A bland breeze rustled the branches of the grand old trees which in double rows framed the open square. Several children were at play upon the spacious grass-plot, which was intersected by diagonal paths of yellow sand. The square was silent, and slept in the voluptuous warmth of the perfect afternoon; but from the north side came the bustle and confusion that resembled the turmoil of some festival. It was the continuous din of the two tides of life which here meet and cross each other, the one surging from Covent Garden and Chancery Lane, the other from Piccadilly and St. James's. Pedestrians and horsemen, coaches and sedan chairs, went to make up a glittering, varied hodgepodge, amidst which flower-girls and newsboys fought their way, together with the venders of "hot buns." Gentlemen saluted with exaggerated gesture, pressing their cocked hats to their breasts and affectedly inclining their heads towards their right shoulder; while the ladies fluttered their fans and nodded the edifices of flowers and feathers which served in lieu of a head-dress. The intoxicating odor of iris powder, of benzoin, bergamot, and patchouli floated upon the air. The beggars leaning against the railing of the square and the Irish chairmen indolently smoking their pipes, for whom life is but a spectacle, watched the passage of others' happiness.