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Updated: June 18, 2025
It was clear that Miss Van Siever understood that the painting, and not the pretty speeches, was the important business on hand. Mrs Broughton had now tucked her feet up on the sofa, and was gazing at the artist as he stood at his work.
"I'll tell you what certainly will not depend on the young lady," said Mrs Van Siever, "and that is whether the man who marries her will have more with her than the clothes she stands up in. You will understand that argument, I suppose?" "I'm not quite sure that I do," said Dalrymple. "Then you'd better try to understand it. Good-morning, sir. I'm sorry you've had to slit your picture."
Hitherto the artist had not said a word, and had hardly known what part in it would best become him now to play. If he intended to marry Clara, and he certainly did intend to marry her if she would have him, it might be as well not to quarrel with Mrs Van Siever.
It is seldom that servants are not good in such straits as that. From Mrs Broughton's house Dalrymple went directly to Mrs Van Siever's, and learned that Musselboro had been there about half an hour before, and had then gone off in a cab with Mrs Van Siever. It was now nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, and no one in the house knew when Mrs Van Siever would be back.
He had also in the meantime called on Mrs Broughton, with the intention of explaining to her that if she really intended to favour his views in respect to Miss Van Siever, she ought to give him a little more liberty for expressing himself. On this occasion he had seen his friend, but had not been able to go as minutely as he wished into the matter that was so important to himself.
There was something perplexing in the necessity which bound him to look upon the young lady before him both as Jael and as the future Mrs Conway Dalrymple, knowing as he did that she was at present simply Clara Van Siever. A double personification was not difficult to him.
Before he left her she had told him a long story, partly of matters of which he had known something before, and partly made up of that which she had heard from the old woman. It was settled, Mrs Broughton said, that Mr Musselboro was to marry Clara Van Siever. But it appeared, as far as Dalrymple could learn, that this was a settlement made simply between Mrs Van Siever and Musselboro.
She would sacrifice her own feelings, and do all in her power to bring Conway Dalrymple and Clara Van Siever together. If, after that, some poet did not immortalise her friendship in Byronic verse, she certainly would not get her due. Perhaps Conway Dalrymple would himself become a poet in order that this might be done properly.
In spite of the apparition of her mother, all this had passed through her mind. Not the less, however, was she obliged to answer her mother, before she could give any reply to the other questioner. In the meantime Mrs Dobbs Broughton had untucked her feet. "Mamma," said Clara, "who ever expected to see you here?" "I daresay nobody did," said Mrs Van Siever; "but here I am, nevertheless."
If you were in partnership with me, then of course I could tell you. But you're not. You've never trusted me, Mrs Van Siever." The lady remained there closeted with Mr Musselboro for an hour after that, and did, I think, at length learn something more as to the details of her partner's business, than her faithful servant Mr Musselboro had at first found himself able to give to her.
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