PAYING GUESTS by E. F. Benson

Author:E. F. Benson [Benson, E. F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9788027202591
Publisher: Musaicum Press
Published: 2017-08-05T00:00:00+00:00

Morning brought a renewal of tranquil and sunny weather, and had it not been for her exhibition, Miss Howard would certainly have returned to lunch at Wentworth with a veritable 'Ode to Autumn' in water-colour to display on the chimney-piece of the lounge. But she could not bear in these critical days to absent herself so long from the Green Salon, and she longed to know whether her custodian's optimism was justified in expecting an influx of visitors now that the improved weather conditions would give them the heart to look at pictures. At present, when she arrived there soon after breakfast, there was only one visitor, a rather odious looking young man, who, so the custodian secretly informed her, had refused to pay for admission on the grounds that he was the press. Instantly she was divided between high hopes and low suspicions. Was he (rapturous thought!) 'our own correspondent' of some influential London paper, sent down to study the contents of the Green Salon, which the Bolton Gazette had found so exquisite, or was he some clever thief who intended, when the custodian's small back was turned to cut out from their frames some of the choicest gems and dispose of them to shady dealers? He did not look like her idea of our own correspondent: on the other hand it would have been unlike a clever thief to have called attention to himself by saying that he was the press. In either case, he had better know who she was, for if he was the press he might like to have an interview, while if he was a thief he would know that the artist had taken note of him. So she tripped up to him, and gave him the benefit of the doubt.

"The press, I believe," she said. "I am Miss Howard. These little things of mine--"

The press had not very good manners: it did not remove from the corner of its mouth a cigarette whose fumes mingled strangely with the odour of the waters, perceptible this morning, and that of Souvenir d'Orient.

"Pleased to meet you, miss," he said, "and pleased to have given you a leg up in our organ the Bolton Gazette. I laid it on thick, didn't I? Just looked in to see what sort of a show you'd got. Very pretty, I'm sure."

"I thought your article was most sympathetic," she said. "And so pleased you've paid my little exhibition a second visit, after studying it so closely."

He looked much surprised.

"No, I've not been here before," he said. "I just had a look at the catalogue, and wrote my stuff on that."

Poor Miss Howard felt her last support slip from her. Hitherto she had clung to the comforting knowledge that though visitors might be few and purchasers completely non-existent, the trained eye of the professional critic had appreciated and admired. Now that consolation was gone.

"You don't seem to have had any purchasers as yet," went on this dreadful young man, "but I'll give you a tip about that, miss.

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