Villanova Digital Library - The Yellow Mask : a Novel / by Wilkie Colllins.

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Full Title	The Yellow Mask : a Novel / by Wilkie Colllins.
Author	Collins, Wilkie, 1824-1889.
Date Added	9 January 2014
Format	Journal
Language	English
Publish Date	1884-07-01
Publisher	New York : F.M. Lupton
Series	Leisure Hour Library > New Series, v. 1, no. 44
Source	Dime Novel and Popular Literature
Alternate Title	Leisure Hour Library, New Series, v. 1, no. 44, July 1, 1884.
Topic	Dime novels > Specimens.
About	More Details Permanent Link
Disclaimers	Disclaimer of Liability Disclaimer of Endorsement

OCR eae aaa THE YELLOW Macx. Ho **This—that my present project is to try if I can’t make my fortune ty siting asa model for Minerva in the studio of the best sculptor in tsa.” : ‘And who is he? (Unwind me a yard or two of that black lace.)” “The master sculptor, Luca Lomi, an old family, once noble, but down in the world now. The master is obliged to make statues to get a living for lis daughter and himself.” ** More of the lace—double it over the bosom of the dress. And how is sitting to this needy sculptor to make your fortune?” “Wait a minute. There are other sculptors besides him in the studio. There is, first, his brother, the priest—Father Rocco, who passes all his spare time with the master. He is a good sculptor in his way—has cast statues and made a font for his church—a holy man, who devotes all his work in the studio to the cause of piety.” “Ah, bah! we’ should think him a droll priest in France. (More pins.) You don’t expect him to put money in your pocket, surely?” ** Wait, [say again. There is a third seulptor in the studio—actually anobleman! His namo is Fabio d’Ascoli. He is rich, young, handsome, an only clild, and little better than a fool. Fancy his Working at sculp- ture, as if he had his bread to get by 1t—and thinking that an amuse- ment! Imagine a man belonging to one of the best families in Pisa mad enough to want to make a reputation as an artist! Wait! wait! the best is tocome. is father and mother are dead—he has uo near relations in the world to exercise authority over him—he is a bachelor, and his for- tune is allat his own disposal; going a-begging, my friend, absolutely going a-begging for want of a clever woman to hold out her hand and take it from him.” “Yes, yes—now I understand. Tho goddess Minerva is a clever woman,and she will hold out her hand and take his fortune trom him with the utmost docility.” “The first thing is to get him to offer it. I must tell you that I am not going tosit to him, but to his master, Luca Lomi, who is doing the statue of imerva. e face is modelled from his daughter; and now he wants somebody to sit for the bust and arms. Maddalena Lomi and I are as nearly as possible the same height, I hear—the difference between us being that I have a good figure and she has a bad one. have offered to sit, through a friend who is employed in the studio. Ifthe master accepts, I am sure of an introduction to our rich young gentlemen, and then leave it to my good looks, my various accomplishments, and my ready tongue, to do the rest.” “Stop! I won’t have the lace doubled, on second thought. Ill have it single, and running all round the dress in curyes—so. Well, and who is this friend of yours employed in the studio? <A fourth 8¢! * ‘No, no; the strangest, simplest little creature—” Just then a faint tap was audible at the door of the room. Brigida laid her fingers on her lips, and called impatiently to the per- son guiside to come in, 1 a ly b 1 The door opened gently, and a young girl, poor ut very neatly dressed, entered the room. She was rather thineand Yinder the average height; but her head and figure were in perfect proportion. Her hair was of that gorgeous auburn color, her eyes of that deep violet blue, which the portraits of Giorgione and Titian have made famous as the type of Venetian beauty. Her features possessed the definiteness and reg- ularity, the ‘good modelling” (to use an artist’s term), which is the rarest of all womanly charms, in Italy as elsewhere. The one serious defect of her face was its paleness. Her cheeks, wanting nothing in form, wanted everything in color. That look of health, which is the essential crowning-point of beauty, was the one attraction which her face did not possess. She came into the room with a sad and weary expression in her eyes, which changed, however, the moment she observed the magnificently dressed French forewoman, into a look of astonishment, and almost of awe. Her manner became shy and embarrassed; and after an instant of hesitation she turned back silently to the door. mks stop, Nanina,” said Brigida, in Italian. ‘‘ Don’t be afraid of that lady. She is our new forewoman; and she has it in her power to do all sorts of kind things for you. Look up and tell us what you want. You were sixteen last birth-day, Nanina, and you behave like a baby of two years old!” ‘*T only came to know if there was any work for me to-day,”’ said the gil, in a very sweet voice, that trembled a little as she tried to face the fashionable French forewoman again. “*No work, child, that is easy enough for you to do,” said Brigida. ** Are you going to the studio to-day ?” Some of the color that Nanina’s cheeks wanted began to steal over them as she answered “ Yes.” ‘** Don’t forget my message, darling. And if Master Luca Lomi asks where I live, answer that you are ready to deliver a letter to me, but that you are forbidden to enter into any particulars at first, about who I am, or where I live.” ** Why am I forbidden?” inquired Nanina, innocently. ** Don’t ask questions, baby! Doas you are told. Bring me back a nice note or message to-morrow from the studio, and I will intercede with this lady to get you some work. You are a foolish child to want it, when you might make more money here and at Florence, by sitting to painters and sculptors; though what they can see to paint or model in you, I never could understand.” “T like working at home better than going abroad to sit,” said Nani- na, looking very much abashed as she. faltered out the answer, and es- eaping from the rvom with a terrified tarewell obeisance, which was an eccentric compound of a start, a bow, and a curtsy. “That awkward child would be pretty,” said Mademoiselle Virginie, making rapid progress with the cutting out of her dress, ‘‘1f she knew how tu give hersclf acomplexion, and had a presentable gown on her back. Who is she?” . : “The friend who is to get me into Master Luca Lomi’s studio,” replied Bngida, laughing. ‘‘ Rather a curious ally for me to take up with, isn’t she?” “Where did you meet with her?” \ “Here, to be sure; she hangs about this placo for any plain work . she can get to do, and takes it home to the oddest little room in a street near the Campo Santo. I had the curiosity to follow her one day, and knocked at her door soon after she had gone in, as ifI was visitor. She an- swered my knock ina great flurry and fright, as you may imagine. made myself agreeable, affected immense interest in her affairs, and so gotinto her room, Such a place! A mere corner of it curtained off to make a bedroom. One chair, one stool, one saucepan on the fire. Be- fore the hearth, the most grotesquely hideous, unshaven poodle. dog you ever saw; and on the stool a fair little girl plaiting dinner-mats. Such yes {be houschold—furniture and all included. ‘ Where 1s your father ?? asked. little friend who has just left the room, spealang in that simple way cf hers, with all the composure in the world. ‘And your mother? *-- ‘Dead.’—She went up to the little mat-plaiting girl, as she gave that an- swer, and began playing with her long flaxen hair. ‘Your sister, I sup- pose,’said I.‘ What is her name ? °—‘ They call me La Biondella,’ says the child, looking up from her mat (La Biondella, Virginie, means The Fair).—‘ And why do you let that great, shaggy, ill-looking brute lie be- for: your fireplace?’ I asked.—‘ Oh!’ cried the little mat-plaiter, ‘that is ar dear old dog, Scarammuccia. He takes care of the house when Na.ina is not athome. He dances on his hind legs, and jumps through a hoop, and tumbles down when I cry bang! Scarammuccia followed us home one night, years ago, and he has lived with us ever since. He goes out every day by himself, we can’t tell where, and. generally returns licking his chops, which makes us afraid that he is a thief; but nobody @ finds him out, because he is the cleverest dog that ever lived!? Th child ran on this way about the great beast by the fireplace, till I was obliged to stop her, while that simpleton, Nanina, stood by, langhing and ercouraging her. Jaskedthema few more questions, which produced some strange answers. They did not scem to know of any relations of theirs in the world. The neighbors in the house had helped them, after their father ran away, until they were old enough to help them- selves; and they did not seem to think there was anything in the least wretched or pitiable in their way of living. The last thing I heard when I left that day, was La Biondella crying ‘ Bang!’—then a ‘bark, a thum on the floor, and a scream of laughter. If it was not for their dog t should go and see them oftener. But tho ill conditioned beast has taken a dislike to me, and growls and shows his teeth whenever I come near b pabe girl looked sickly when she came in here. Is she always like at?” : “No. She has altered within the lastmonth. .I suspect our interesting young nobleman has produced an impression, The oftener the girl has sat to him lately, the paler and more out of spirits she has become.” ‘‘Oh! she has sat to him, has she?” . “She is sitting to him now. | He 1s doing a bust of some Pagan nymph or other, and prevailed on Nanina to let him copy fromher head and! face. According to her own account, the little fool was trightened at first, and gave him all the trouble in the world before she would consent.” nd now she has consented, don’t you think it likely she may turn out rather a dangerous rival? Men are such fools, and take such fancies into their heads——” + ‘Ridiculous! A thread-paper of a girl like that, who has no manner, . no talk, no intelligence; who has nothing to recommend her but an awk- ward babyish-prettiness!—Dangerous to me? No! no! If thereis danger at all, I have to dread it from the sculptor’s daughter. I don’t mind con- fessing that I am anxious tosee Maddalena Lomi. But as for Nanina, she will simply be of use to me, All I know already about the studio and the artists in it, I know through her. She will deliver my message, and pro- cure me my introduction; and when we have got so far, I shall give her an old gown and a shake of the hand; and then, good-bye to our little Innocent! ” “Well, well, for your sake I hope you are the wiser of the two in this matter. For my pat. I always distrust innocence. Wait one moment and I shall have the body and sleeves of this dress ready for the needle- woman. ere, ring the bell, and order thent up; for I have directions to give, and you must interpret for me.” While Brigida went to the bell, the energetic Frenchwoman began planning out the skirt of the new dress. She laughed as she measured off yard after yard of the silk. ‘What are you laughing about?” asked Brigids, opening the door and ringing a hand-bell in the passage. “JT can’t help fancying, dear, in spite of her innocent face and her artless ways, that your young friend is a hypocrite.” ** And Iam quite certain, love, that she 1s only a simpleton.” CHAPTER II. Tue studio of the Haster-Seulptor, Luca Lomi, was composed of two large rooms, unequally divided by a wooden partition, with an arched doorway cut in the middle of it. While the milliners of the Grifoni_ establishment were industriously shaping dresses, the sculptorsin Luca Lomi’s workshop were, in their way, quite as hard at work shaping marble and clay. In the smaller of the two rooms the young nobleman (only addressed in the studio by his Chris- tian name of Fabio) was busily engaged on his bust, with Nanina sittin before him as a model. His was not one of those traditional Italian faces from which subtlety and suspicion are always supposed to look out darkly on the world at large. Both countenance and expression proclaimed his character frankly and freely to all who saw him. Quick intelligence looked brightly from his eyes; and easy good-humor laughed out pleasantly in the rather quaint curve of his lips. For the rest, his face expressed the defects as well as the merits of his character, showing that he wanted resolution and perseverance just as plainly ay it showed also that he pos- sessed amiability and intelligence. At the end of the large room, nearest to the street door, Luca Lomi was standing by his life-size statue of Minerva, and was issuing direc- tions, from time to time, to some of his workmen, who were roughly chis- elling the drapery of another figure. At the opposite side of the room, nearest to the partition, his brother, Father Rocco, was taking a cast from a statuette of the Madonna; while Maddalena Lomi, the sculptor’s daughter, released from sitting for Minerva’s face, walked about the two rooms, and watched what was going on in them. : ere was a strong family likeness of a certain kind between father, brother and daughter. All three wero tall, handsome, dark-haired, al dark-eyed; nevertheless, they differed in expression, strikingly as they : ‘ - ‘He ran away and left us years ago,’ answers my awkward . A> —) ah ~~