The 'Mind the Paint' Girl by Arthur Wing Pinero (i am malala young readers edition TXT) 📖

I’m possessed of all the graces,

Oh, a perfect dr-r-r-ream my face is!

(It may owe to Art a trifle or it mayn’t

H’m, it mayn’t!)

And I’ll cry out for assistance.

Should you fail to keep your distance,

Goodness gracious, mind the paint!

Mind the paint!

Mind the paint! Mind the paint!

A girl is not a sinner just because she’s not a saint!

But my heart shall hold you dearer—

You may come a little nearer—

If you’ll only mind the paint—mind the paint!

The refrain is repeated as before, Mrs. Upjohn rising and taking a share in it. Then Lily drops on to the settee before the writing-table, laughing and holding up her hands in protest.

Lily.

No more, boys! Roper, Von Rettenmayer, and de Castro gather round her, applauding her and urging her to continue. No, no; no more! I’ve had such a stiff day——

Mrs. Upjohn.

With sudden energy, to everybody. Out you go, all of you; out you go!

Jimmie.

To the men. Come on; let’s mizzle. Shaking hands with Farncombe. Cruel of us to tire her so.

Mrs. Upjohn.

Tapping Von Rettenmayer on the shoulder. Now, then, Baron!

Von Rettenmayer.

Shaking hands with Lily. I’m goming.

Jimmie.

Taking Von Rettenmayer to the door. Well, gome!

Mrs. Upjohn.

Pulling Roper away from Lily. Now, Uncle!

Roper.

Adjusting his coat. Mind the paint, Ma.

Jimmie.

Calling out. Good-bye, Lil!

Lily.

As she shakes hands with de Castro, calling to Jimmie. Good-bye!

Jimmie and Von Rettenmayer disappear.

Mrs. Upjohn.

Now, Mr. de Castro! Moving with Roper towards the door. ’Owever d’ye think she’s goin’ to get through her work to-night!

De Castro.

Pausing to comb his moustache. Quite right, Ma—— thoughtlessly and a thupper and a danthe afterwardth.

Roper.

Turning upon him quickly. Sssh! In a low voice. Dam fool!

De Castro.

Clapping his hand to his mouth. Oh——!

They glance at Jeyes who, hearing de Castro’s remark, has left the window and come forward a step or two.

Roper.

Uneasily. Er—good-bye, Nicko.

De Castro.

To Jeyes, in the same way. G-good-bye.

Jeyes.

To both, dryly. Good-bye.

Bland.

Talking to Lily, neither of them having heard de Castro’s slip. That jingle—an echo of old times, eh?

Lily.

Looking up at him. Yes, but not better times than these times, Vin?

Bland.

Sadly, holding her hand. Ah, Lil, there are so many tunes in life left for you, my dear!

Roper.

At the door, with Mrs. Upjohn and de Castro—to Bland. Come along, Vincent.

Bland joins the group at the door as Farncombe approaches Lily.

Farncombe.

Shaking hands with her. Thank you. With fervour. Glorious!

Lily.

Reproachfully. For shame!

Farncombe.

I mean it.

Lily.

T’sh! Lightly. See you again some day, perhaps?

Farncombe.

Ah, yes—

Roper.

Calling to Farncombe. Coming our way, Farncombe?

Roper, Bland, and de Castro depart. Farncombe bows to Lily and makes for the door.

Farncombe.

To Jeyes. Good-bye, Captain Jeyes.

Jeyes.

Who has wandered to the entrance to the conservatory, where he is now standing with his back to the room—half turning. Good-bye.

Farncombe.

Shaking hands with Mrs. Upjohn. Delightful! Enjoyed myself amazingly.

Mrs. Upjohn.

Graciously. Oh, we’re always glad when a few folks pop in— he wrings her hand if they don’t over-stay their welcome.

Farncombe.

Naturally. Hurriedly. Good-bye. He vanishes.

Mrs. Upjohn.

Remaining at the door. Captain——

Jeyes.

Advancing. I want just half a dozen words with Lily, Mrs. Upjohn.

Lily.

To Mrs. Upjohn. Tell Maud to put out my old green frock, mother; I’ll be up in a minute or two.

Mrs. Upjohn.

To Jeyes. Now, you won’t keep ’er longer, will you?

Jeyes.

Grimly. No, no; I know she won’t be in bed till four o’clock to-morrow morning at the earliest. Mrs. Upjohn goes out, closing the door, and Jeyes comes to Lily. So Smythe is giving you a grand feed to-night at the theatre, Lil?

Lily.

Arranging the pillows on the settee. In the foyer.

Jeyes.

And a dance, it appears.

Lily.

Yawning. Oh-h-h-h! Lying upon the settee at full length. Who told you, grumpy?

Jeyes.

Roper and your mother told me about the supper. You didn’t.

Lily.

Ha, ha! You were in such a vile mood last night, coming home.

Jeyes.

Who will there be to dance with to-night?

Lily.

The men of the Company.

Jeyes.

That doesn’t sound very inspiring.

Lily.

Rather school-treaty, isn’t it!

Jeyes.

Nobody from outside?

Lily.

No; it’s to be only the men in the theatre and the principal ladies.

Jeyes.

Roper’s going.

Lily.

Uncle Lal? Oh, well, he’s hardly from outside.

Jeyes.

And de Castro.

Lily.

Sam?

Jeyes.

I’m sure of it, from something I heard him say just now.

Lily.

Sam used to finance Carlton. I suppose they reckon him one of us.

Jeyes.

Sitting in the chair in the middle of the room. Smythe might have extended the compliment to me, Lil. He knows how I stand towards you.

Lily.

Awfully sorry; I can’t help it.

Jeyes.

Twining his fingers together. You see, if Roper and de Castro are asked, there may be others.

Lily.

Changing her position. Oh, lal, lal, lal, lal, la!

Jeyes.

With a set jaw. Some of the more juvenile “boys,” perhaps. Examining his nails. Lil.

Lily.

What?

Jeyes.

When did you make the acquaintance of the young sprig o’ the nobility who’s been here this afternoon?

Lily.

Lord Farncombe? Bertie brought him and introduced him one day last week.

Jeyes.

Ha! He’s at your feet now.

Lily.

Phuh!

Jeyes.

Oh, you may “phuh”! He’s in front every blessed night. There he sits, Row B., three stalls from the end, prompt side!

Lily.

There are a few good-looking girls at the Pandora besides your humble servant.

Jeyes.

Rubbish! His glass follows you all over the stage. I watched him talking to you in this room——

Lily.

Raising herself. Did you indeed!

Jeyes.

Beating his clenched hands upon the arms of his chair. God in heaven! First it’s one, then it’s another, chasing you!

Lily.

Putting her feet to the ground. Oh, you’re maddening, Nicko! You are; you’re maddening. Last night it was Stewie Heneage you chose to be jealous of, simply because you’d heard him sounding my praises at Catani’s! You almost broke the window of the car, you went on so!

Jeyes.

I confess I object to Heneage, or any man, raving about you at the top of his voice in a public place.

Lily.

Sakes alive, why shouldn’t Stewie rave about me in a public place, if he feels like it! I belong to the public. He might rave about a girl who’s a jolly sight less deserving of being raved about, as a girl and an artist, than I am.

Jeyes.

Well, we’ll dismiss Heneage.

Lily.

Yes, exit Stewie and enter somebody else for you fuss and fume about. This afternoon it’s Lord Farncombe, and to-morrow it’ll be a fresh person altogether. One ’ud think, to hear you, that I don’t know how to take care of myself, and of any poor boy who loses his head over me! Rising and walking away. You’re growing worse and worse with your jealousy, Nicko. Stop it! I’m surprised at you, after all these years! It’s beginning to fret me, and that’s bad for my spirits and bad for me in business. At the tea-table, grabbing a piece of bread-and-butter and biting at it. And now you’re making me spoil my dinner— relenting and that’s not good for me either, you brute!

Jeyes.

His hands hanging loosely between his knees, sighing heavily. Oh, Lily, Lily——!

Lily.

Yes, oh, Lily, Lily!

Jeyes.

Why—why don’t you put me out of my misery?

Lily.

Munching. Poison you?

Jeyes.

Marry me.

Lily.

Behind his chair. Marry you? Taking his handkerchief from his breast-pocket and wiping her fingers upon it—sarcastically. Have you come to tell me you’ve got some work to do at last? Break it gently, Nicko; the shock might be too great for me.

Jeyes.

Oh, I’d find a billet soon enough, Lil, if only I’d an incentive to hunt for it.

Lily.

Incentive! You had an incentive twelve months ago, when I was willing to engage myself to you absolutely if you could obtain a good secretaryship or something of the sort.

Jeyes.

I—I’ve no fancy for a beggarly secretaryship.

Lily.

No; all you’ve a fancy for, seemingly, is for living on your unfortunate people. Throwing him his handkerchief and leaving him. How a man of your age can rest satisfied with being a burden to others passes my dull comprehension!

Jeyes.

I—I have been a bit slack, I own—I have been a bit leisurely; but——

Lily.

Inspecting some of the flowers about the room. Nicko, that pendant, or whatever it is, you’ve given me—I don’t want to hurt you, but I won’t accept it. You take it away with you; do you hear?

Jeyes.

Not heeding her, weakly. Lil——

Lily.

I’m in earnest; you remove it from off my premises.

Jeyes.

Lil— she returns to him my eldest brother—Robert— looking up at her Bob— She nods inquiringly. Bob’s at me to go out to Rhodesia, to manage a group of stock farms he’s interested in near Bulawayo.

Lily.

Oh, why don’t you