at the time, but had seemed obliging and amused, enjoying the comedy
of asking Mrs. Monarch, who sat vague and silent, whether she would
have cream and sugar, and putting an exaggerated simper into the
question. She had tried intonations--as if she too wished to pass
for the real thing; till I was afraid my other visitors would take
offence.

Oh, THEY were determined not to do this; and their touching patience
was the measure of their great need. They would sit by the hour,
uncomplaining, till I was ready to use them; they would come back on
the chance of being wanted and would walk away cheerfully if they
were not. I used to go to the door with them to see in what
magnificent order they retreated. I tried to find other employment
for them--I introduced them to several artists. But they didn't
"take," for reasons I could appreciate, and I became conscious,
rather anxiously, that after such disappointments they fell back upon
me with a heavier weight. They did me the honour to think that it
was I who was most THEIR form. They were not picturesque enough for
the painters, and in those days there were not so many serious
workers in black and white. Besides, they had an eye to the great
job I had mentioned to them--they had secretly set their hearts on
supplying the right essence for my pictorial vindication of our fine
novelist. They knew that for this undertaking I should want no
costume-effects, none of the frippery of past ages--that it was a
case in which everything would be contemporary and satirical and,
presumably, genteel. If I could work them into it their future would
be assured, for the labour would of course be long and the occupation
steady.

One day Mrs. Monarch came without her husband--she explained his