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TRILBY
By GEORGE DU MAURIER A CHARMING studio, in the Latin Quarter of Paris, sheltered "Three Musketeers of the Brush": Talbot Wynne, or Taffy, a big, fair, blue-eyed young Yorkshireman, who had been a soldier, but was at last following his wish to be an artist; then Sandy Mc-Allister, or the Laird, as his friends called him, intended by his parents for a solicitor, but who was in Paris painting toreadors and singing French ballads with a decided Scotch accent. "The third he was Little Billie," or William Bagot, a pleasing young English-man from London. To live and work in Paris had been Billie's dream, and at last it was a reality, he and his two friends having taken the studio together. He often looked at these friends, and wondered if any one, living or dead, ever had two such glorious chums. His absolute belief in all they said and did touched them exceedingly, and they in turn loved him for his affectionate disposition and lively ways; and recognizing his quickness, keenness, and delicacy in all matters of form and color, they had also a great admiration for him. On a showery April day the three friends were in the studio, each occupied to his taste, Taffy vigorously swinging a pair of Indian clubs, the Laird sitting before his easel, painting; and Billie, kneeling on the broad divan before the great studio window, was gazing out over the roofs of Paris, speculating upon the future of himself and his friends. These speculations were rudely interrupted by a loud knocking at the door, and two men entered; first a tall, bony individual of any age between thirty and forty-five, of Jewish aspect, well-featured, but sinister. He had bold, brilliant black eyes, with long, heavy lids. He went by the name of Svengali, spoke fluent French, but with a German accent. His companion was a little, swarthy young man, possibly a gipsy; under his arm he carried a fiddle and bow. Svengali at once suggested that they have some music, and, seating himself at the piano, ran his fingers up and down the keys with the easy power of a master. Then he fell to playing Chopin's Impromptu in A flat so beautifully that Little Billie's heart was nigh to bursting with emotion and delight. He never forgot that Impromptu, which he was destined to hear again one day in very strange circumstances. Then the two, Svengali and his companion, Gecko, made music together so divinely, indeed, that even Taffy and the Laird were almost as wild in their enthusiasm as Billie, but with an enthusiasm too deep for words. Suddenly there came another interruption, a loud knuckle-rapping at the outer door, and a voice of great volume, that might belong to any sex, or even an angel, uttered the British milkman's yodel, "Milk below," and before any one could say, "Entrez," a strange figure appeared framed in the gloom of the antechamber; the figure of a very tall and fully developed young girl, clad in the gray overcoat of a French infantry soldier; below this there showed a short striped petticoat, and beneath it were vis- ible her bare white ankles, the toes losing themselves in a huge pair of men's list slippers. While not strictly beautiful, the girl had great charm; she was really much like a healthy young English boy. Closing the door behind her, she said, wistfully: "Ye're all English, now, aren't ye? I heard the music and thought I'd just come in for a bit and pass the time of day; you don't mind? Trilby, that's my name, Trilby O'Ferrall." Yes this was Trilby of the studios, artists' model, taking her noonday rest. She sat down upon the model-throne to eat her luncheon and listen to the music. When Svengali had brought the music to a close, Trilby remarked it was not very gay, and offered to sing a song which she knew, and in English, whereat she sang "Ben Bolt," and finished amid an embarrassing silence, for her hearers did not know whether it was intended seriously or in fun; such a volume of sound ensued that it flooded the studio, but without melody or music of any kind, in fact as if the singer were tone-deaf, as indeed she was. With her charm and good-fellowship Trilby won the hearts of the Three Musketeers, Billie's most of all, and it was Billie for whom she felt the deepest affection. She cooked for them at times, mended their clothing, listened to their music and the wonderful talks of "the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome." At other times she criticized their work, in fact was quite "one of them." A climax came one day when Billie, visiting another studio, discovered Trilby posing for the "altogether." He was so shocked that he was awakened to the fact of his great love for Trilby, and, rushing home to his friends, declared that he was going to Barbizon to paint the forest and that he wanted to be alone. Trilby, too, saw matters in a different light, and, after much self-examination and struggle, decided that she would pose no more, but would earn her living as a fine laundress, with an old friend who had a laundry and was doing well. Poor Trilby was certainly one of the frail ones, but through ignorance, rather than wrong intent; now she saw her mistake, and with her love for Billie there came a strange new feeling, a dawning self-respect. Nineteen times Billie asked Trilby to marry him, but she always refused, feeling herself unworthy. Then one Christmas night he asked her the twentieth time : "Will you marry me? If not I leave Paris in the morning never to return"; and Trilby, fearing to lose him out of her life, finally answered, "Yes." Billie's mother, hearing of the intended marriage, journeyed to Paris to make inquiries about Trilby, finally deciding that she was not the wife for her son, all of which she said to Trilby, who in her great love for Billie, and thinking it best for him, promised to go away and not see him again. Trilby kept her promise and Billie became very ill; when he had sufficiently recovered he went back to England with his mother, his heart, as it seemed, quite dead. This was a sorrowful time for Taffy and the Laird, as they missed both Trilby and Billie. Nothing was heard of the former for a long time. Years went by and Billie became a famous painter, with a beautiful home in London and many friends. Then the Three Musketeers were together again in Paris, where they visited the scenes of former times, at last going to the old studio, now rented to other tenants, but having still upon its wall Billie's famous drawing of Trilby's foot, protected by a covering of glass; and beneath it some stanzas to "Pauvre Trilby, la belle et bonne et chere!" One night they attended a concert in a large hall on the Rue St.-Honore. The first violin had scarcely taken his seat before they recognized their old friend Gecko. Just as the clock struck, Svengali appeared -the conductor. Then a moment of silence, and two little page-boys each drew a silken rope, the curtains parted, and a tall figure walked slowly down to the front of the stage. The house rose to meet her as she advanced, bowing to right and left-"It' was Trilby." Her eyes on Svengali, at a signal from him she sang without accompaniment, in a voice so immense in its softness, richness, and freshness that it seemed to be pouring itself from all around; and then her dove-like eyes looked past Svengali, straight at Billie, and all his long-lost power of loving came back with a rush. At last-the final performance of the evening. Trilby vocalized, without words, Chopin's Impromptu in A flat; astounding, no piano had ever given out such notes as these ! Amid the wild applause and enthusiasm of an immense audience, Trilby had made her debut in Paris. Her debut in London was a different matter; Svengali, ill, and unable to conduct, had taken his place in a box exactly opposite Trilby, but his presence had no effect upon her. When it came time for her to sing she started "Ben Bolt," but sang only a few bars, when the house was in an uproar of laughter, hoots, and hisses. Trilby had lost the power of "singing true." She seemed to be awakening from sleep, not knowing where she was. Her old-time friends rescued her and took her home to Billie's mother. Svengali collapsed from shock and died very suddenly. The friends learned from Gecko that "there were two Trilbys," Svengali had but to say "Dor" and she suddenly became an unconscious Trilby of marble, to do his bid-ding. So they traveled, giving concerts, Svengali, Gecko, Trilby, attended by Marta, an old servant of Svengali. The long strain had its effect upon poor Trilby, and she drooped and died, surrounded by the old-time friends and Billie's mother. Not long after, Little Billie, broken-hearted, followed her. |