The romance of a shop pdf

You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Google account. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email. Notify me of new posts via email. This site uses Akismet to reduce spam.

Learn how your comment data is processed. Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Email Address:. Using the texts I write is at your own risk since I have no competence of any kind in literature. I think most artists create art in order to explore, not to give the answers. Poetry and art are not about answers to me; they are about questions.

Books, reading and anything else that comes to mind Like this: Like Loading Comments 10 Trackbacks 4 Leave a comment Trackback. Nino Frewat. Guy Savage. There are such things as ten year leases here. I have her other novel here so will read that at some point. Which one do you have? Gunnar Sewell. An interesting tidbit on the history of cinema. Max Cairnduff. I hope you had a nice Christmas. Australian Women Writers Challenge completed!

Book Around the Corner. I love to hear your thoughts, thanks for commenting. Comments in French are welcome Cancel reply Enter your comment here Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Email required Address never made public. Paranormal romance focuses on romantic love and includes elements beyond the range of scientific explanation. And the list goes on…. Webster and W. The romance novel places its primary focus on the relationship. Bookworm Videos Watch videos about books, reading and writing.

Youtube Channel. Visit Site. Related Posts. Search for:. And now for the rooms. The floor immediately above the shop had been let to a dressmaker, and it was the two upper floors which stood vacant. On the first of these was a fair-sized room with two windows, looking out on the street, divided by folding doors from a smaller room with a corner fire-place.

Devonshire, who was becoming deeply interested, and whose spirits, moreover, were rising under the sense that here, at least, she could speak to the young people from the heights of knowledge and experience; "and water will have [Pg 56] to be laid on; and you will certainly need a sink. Upstairs were three rooms, capable of accommodating four people as bed-rooms, and which bounded the little domain.

Maryon and their servant inhabited the basement and the parlour behind the shop; and it was suggested by the chemist's wife that, for the present at least, the ladies might like to enter on some arrangement for sharing Matilda's services; the duties of that maiden, as matters now stood, not being nearly enough to fill up her time.

They drove away in hopeful mood; Mrs. It took, of course, some days before they were able to come to a final decision on the subject of the rooms. Various persons had to be consulted, and various matters inquired into. Russel came flying down from the north directly Gertrude's letter reached him. He surveyed the premises in his rapid, accurate fashion; entered into details with immense seriousness; pronounced in favour of taking the apartments; gave a glowing account of Lucy; and rushed off to catch his train.

A few days afterwards the Lorimers found themselves the holders of a lease, terminable at one, three, or seven years, for a studio and upper part of the house, known as 20 B , Upper Baker Street. Then followed a period of absorbing and unremitting toil.

All through the sweet June month the girls laboured at setting things in order in the new home. Expense being a matter of vital consequence, they endeavoured to do everything, within the limits of possibility, themselves.

Workmen were of course needed for repairing the studio and fitting the kitchen fire-place, but their services were dispensed [Pg 58] with in almost every other case. The furniture stored at the Pantechnicon proved more than enough for their present needs; Gertrude and Conny between them laid down the carpets and hung up the curtains; and Fred, revealing an unsuspected talent for carpentering, occupied his leisure moments in providing the household with an unlimited quantity of shelves.

Indeed, the spectacle of that gorgeous youth hammering away in his shirt sleeves on a pair of steps, his immaculate hat and coat laid by, his gardenia languishing in some forgotten nook, was one not easily to be overlooked or forgotten. It was necessary, of course, to buy some additional stock-in-trade, and this Mr.

Russel undertook to procure for them at the lowest possible rates; adding, on his own behalf, a large burnishing machine. The girls had hitherto been accustomed to have their prints rolled for them by the Stereoscopic Company. In their own rooms everything was of the simplest, but a more ambitious style of decoration was attempted in the studio. A little cheap Japanese china, and a few red-legged tables and chairs converted the waiting-room, as Phyllis said, into a perfect bower of art and culture; while Fred contributed so many rustic windows, stiles and canvas backgrounds to the studio, that his bankruptcy was declared on all sides to be imminent.

The Maryons surveyed these preparations from afar with a certain amused compassion, an incredulous kindliness, which were rather exasperating. Like most people of their class, they had seen too much of the ups and downs of life to be astonished at anything; and the sight of these ladies playing at photographers and house decorators, was only one more scene in the varied and curious drama of life which it was their lot to witness. The sisters had been alone in Baker Street that morning; Constance being engaged in having a ball-dress tried on at Russell and Allen's; and now Gertrude was about to set out for the British Museum, where she was going through a course of photographic reading, under the direction of Mr.

I have found out that he lodges just opposite us, over the auctioneer's. At Baker Street Station they parted; Phyllis disappearing to the underground railway; Gertrude mounting boldly to the top of an Atlas omnibus. Indeed, for Gertrude, the humours of the town had always possessed a curious fascination. She contemplated the familiar London pageant with an interest that had something of passion in it; and, for her part, was never inclined to quarrel with the fate which had transported her from the comparative tameness of Campden Hill to regions where the pulses of the great city could be felt distinctly as they beat and throbbed.

By the end of June the premises in Upper Baker Street were quite ready for occupation; but Gertrude and Phyllis decided to avail themselves of some of their numerous invitations, and strengthen themselves for the coming tussle with fortune with three or four weeks of country air.

At last there came a memorable evening, late in July, when the four sisters met for the first time under the roof which they hoped was to shelter them for many years to come. Gertrude and Phyllis arrived early in the day from Scarborough, where they had been staying with the Devonshires, and at about six o'clock Fanny appeared in a four-wheel cab; she had been borne off to Tunbridge Wells by the Pratts, some six weeks before.

When she had given vent to her delight at rejoining her sisters, and had inspected the new home, Phyllis led her upstairs to the bedroom, Gertrude remaining below in the sitting-room, which she paced with a curious excitement, an irrepressible restlessness. The last remark had fallen on unheeding ears; [Pg 63] her attention was entirely absorbed by a cab which had stopped before the door.

One moment, and she was on the stairs; the next, she and Lucy were in one another's arms. Up and down, hand in hand, went the sisters, into every nook and corner of the small domain, exclaiming, explaining, asking and answering a hundred questions.

I think we have never worked or lived before. I think we all realise that," said Lucy, with an encouraging smile. And as a beginning, I vote we go upstairs to supper.

If a sudden reverse of fortune need not make us cynical, there is perhaps no other experience which brings us face to face so quickly and so closely with the realities of life. The Lorimers, indeed, had no great cause for complaint; and perhaps, in condemning the Timons of this world, forgot that, as interesting young women, embarked moreover on an interesting enterprise, they were not themselves in a position to gauge the full depths of mundane perfidy.

Of course, after a time, they dropped off from the old set, from the people with whom their intercourse had been a mere matter [Pg 66] of social commerce; but, as Phyllis justly observed, when you have no time to pay calls, no clothes to your back, no money for cabs, and very little for omnibuses, you can hardly expect your career to be an unbroken course of festivities.

On the other hand, many of their friends drew closer to them in the hour of need, and a great many good-natured acquaintances amused themselves by patronising the studio in Upper Baker Street, and recommending other people to go and do likewise. Certainly these latter exacted a good deal for their money; were restive when posed, expected the utmost excellence of work and punctuality of delivery, and, like most of the Lorimers' customers, seemed to think the sex of the photographers a ground for greater cheapness in the photographs.

One evening, towards the middle of October, the girls had assembled for the evening meal—it could not, strictly speaking, be called dinner—in the little sitting-room above the shop.

They were all tired, for the moment discouraged, and had much ado to maintain that cheerfulness which they held it a point of honour never to abandon. Fanny's housekeeping, by the way, had been tried, and found wanting; and the poor lady had, with great delicacy, been relegated to the vague duty of creating an atmosphere of home for her more strong-minded sisters. Fortunately, she believed in the necessity of a thoroughly womanly presence among them, womanliness being apparently represented to her mind by any number of riband bows on the curtains, antimacassars on the chairs, and strips of embroidered plush on every available article of furniture; and accepted the situation without misgiving.

She had been up to the studio of an artist at St. John's Wood that morning, making photographs of various studies of drapery for a big picture, and the results, when examined in the dark-room later on, had not been satisfactory; hence her unusual depression of spirits.

Lawrence's draperies? Nobody ever buys his pokey pictures. You've not been the same person ever since you developed those plates this afternoon. Russel introduced us to him; and besides, though he is obscure himself, he might recommend us to other artists if the work was well done. Come over here, Lucy. Do you see that lighted window opposite? It is Conny's Mr. I wish he would come and dance with us sometimes. It is ages and ages since I had a really good waltz.

Gertrude came through the folding-doors bearing a covered dish. Her aspect also was undeniably dejected. Business had been slacker, if possible, than usual, during [Pg 69] the past week; regarded from no point of view could their prospects be considered brilliant; and, to crown all, Aunt Caroline had paid them a visit in the course of the day, in which she had propounded some very direct questions as to the state of their finances; questions which it had been both difficult to answer and difficult to evade.

Phyllis ceased her chatter, which she saw at once to be out of harmony with the prevailing mood, and took her place in silence at the table. Gertrude lighted a candle, and went downstairs, and the rest proceeded rather silently with their meal.

It is to photograph a dead person. A lady—Lady Watergate—died to-day, and her husband wishes the body to be photographed to-morrow morning.

It was the housekeeper who came, and we happened to be the first photographer's shop she passed. She seemed to think I might not like it, but we cannot afford to refuse work.

Perhaps scarlet fever, or smallpox, or something of the sort. A name so well known in the scientific and literary world was of course familiar to the Lorimers. They had, however, little personal acquaintance with distinguished people, and had never come across the learned and courteous peer in his social capacity, his frequent presence in certain middle-class circles notwithstanding.

Maryon, coming up later on for a chat, under pretext of discussing the unsatisfactory Matilda, was informed of the new commission.

But he took her back at the last and forgave her everything, like the great-hearted gentleman that he was. Maryon had gone. It makes one positively creep. Weddings, for instance, she describes with as much unction as funerals.

So do you, don't you, Fan? It must be such fun to have one's favourite man dropping in on one every evening. At an early hour the next morning, Gertrude Lorimer started on her errand.

As she passed out, laden with her apparatus, Mdlle. Gertrude went on her way with a considerable sinking of the heart. She had no difficulty in finding Sussex Place; indeed, she had often remarked it; the white curve of houses with the columns, the cupolas, and the railed-in space of garden which fronted the Park.

Lord Watergate's house was situated about midway in the terrace. Gertrude, on arriving, was shown into a large dining-room, darkened by blinds, and decorated in each gloomy corner by greenish figures of a pseudo-classical nature, which served the purpose of supports to the gas-globes.

At least a quarter of an hour elapsed before the appearance of the housekeeper, [Pg 74] who ushered her up the darkened stairs to a large room on the second storey. Here the blinds had been raised, and for a moment Gertrude was too dazzled to be aware with any clearness of her surroundings.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the light, she perceived herself to be standing in a daintily-furnished sleeping apartment, whose open windows afforded glimpses of an unbroken prospect of wood, and lawn, and water. Drawn forward to the middle of the room, well within the light from the windows, was a small, open bedstead of wrought brass.

A woman lay, to all appearance, sleeping there, the bright October sunlight falling full on the upturned face, on the spread and shining masses of matchless golden hair. A woman no longer in her first youth; haggard with sickness, pale with the last strange pallor, but beautiful withal, exquisitely, astonishingly beautiful. Another figure, that of a man, was seated by the window, in a pose as fixed, as motionless, as that of the dead woman herself.

Gertrude, as she silently made preparations for her strange task, instinctively [Pg 75] refrained from glancing in the direction of this second figure; and had only the vaguest impression of a dark, bowed head, and a bearded, averted face.

She delivered a few necessary directions to the housekeeper, in the lowest audible voice, then, her faculties stimulated to curious accuracy, set to work with camera and slides. As she stood, her apparatus gathered up, on the point of departure, the man by the window rose suddenly, and for the first time seemed aware of her presence.

For one brief, but vivid moment, her eyes encountered the glance of two miserable grey eyes, looking out with a sort of dazed wonder from a pale and sunken face. The broad forehead, projecting over the eyes; the fine, but rough-hewn features; the brown hair and beard; the tall, stooping, sinewy figure: these together formed a picture which imprinted itself as by a flash on Gertrude's overwrought consciousness, and was destined not to fade for many days to come.

The habits of this young person, as we know, resembled those of the lilies of the field; but she chose to pervade the studio when nothing better offered itself, and in moments of boredom even to occupy herself with some of the more pleasant work.

Gertrude looked thoughtfully at the prints in her hand. They represented a woman lying dead or asleep, with her hair spread out on the pillow. Of course the light was not all that could be wished. Maryon told us she was wicked, didn't she? But I don't know that it matters about being good when you are as beautiful as all that. Frederick Devonshire, I positively refuse to minister any longer to such gross egotism! You've been cabinetted, vignetted, and carte de visited. You've been taken in a snowstorm; you've been taken looking out of window, drinking afternoon tea, and doing I don't know what else.

If your vanity still remains unsatisfied, you must get another firm to gorge it for you. Turning money away from the doors [Pg 78] like this," chuckled Fred. Lucy's simple badinage appealed to him as the raciest witticisms would probably have failed to do; it seemed to him almost on a par with the brilliant verbal coruscations of his cherished Sporting Times.

We always let a gentleman know when he has had as much as is good for him. She and Gertrude had just come up together from the studio, where Conny had been pouring out her soul as to the hollowness of the world, a fact she was in the habit periodically of discovering. Miss Devonshire deigned no reply to these remarks, and Phyllis, who, like all of them, was accustomed to occasional sparring between the brother and sister, threw herself into the breach. There he is on the doorstep; why, he only went out half an hour ago!

Why, he might have stepped straight out of a Venetian portrait; a Tintoretto, a Bordone, any one of those mellow people. I often wonder what his business can be that keeps him running in and out all day. Fortunately for Constance, the fading light of the December afternoon concealed the fact that she was blushing furiously, as she replied coolly enough, "Oh, Frank Jermyn?

He and another man have a studio in York Place together. Poor fellow, he looks a little lonely sometimes; although he has a great many oddly-assorted pals.

As a matter of fact she snatched eagerly at this opportunity for separating herself from this group of idle chatterers.

She was tired, dispirited, beset with a hundred anxieties; weighed down by a cruel sense of responsibility. How was it all to end? That first wave of business, born of the good-natured impulse of their friends and [Pg 82] acquaintance, had spent itself, and matters were looking very serious indeed for the firm of G. But we are photographers, not mountebanks!

In a few minutes she had succeeded in suppressing all outward marks of her troubles, and had rejoined the people in the sitting-room. Maryon says there is nothing the matter," she cried, with her delightful smile, "and that there is no accounting for these foreigners.

Laughter greeted her words, then Conny, rising and shaking out her splendid skirts, declared that it was time to go. She was absorbed in furtive contemplation of a light that glimmered in a window above the auctioneer's shop opposite. As the girls were sitting at supper, later on, they were startled by the renewal of those sounds below which had disturbed them in the afternoon.

They waited a few minutes, attentive; but this time, instead of dying away, the noise rapidly gathered volume, and in addition to the scuffling, their ears were assailed by the sound of shrill cries, and what appeared to be a perfect volley of objurgations. Evidently a contest was going on in which other weapons than vocal or verbal ones were [Pg 84] employed, for the floor and windows of the little sitting-room shook and rattled in a most alarming manner.

But her protest was drowned by a series of ear-piercing yells issuing from the room below. Phyllis stood among them silent, gazing from one to the other, with that strange, bright look in her eyes, which with her betokened excitement; the unimpassioned, impersonal excitement of a spectator at a thrilling play. With a sickening of the heart, for she knew not what horror she was about to encounter, Gertrude made her way downstairs, the cries and sounds of struggling growing louder at each step.

At the bottom of the first flight she paused. Swiftly they went down the next flight, past the horrible doors, on the other side of which the battle was raging, still downwards, till they reached the little narrow hall. Here they drew up suddenly before a figure which barred the way. Long afterwards Gertrude could recall the moment when she first saw Frank Jermyn under their roof; could remember [Pg 86] distinctly—though all at the time seemed chaos—the sudden sensation of security that came over her at the sight of the kind, eager young face, the brilliant, steadfast eyes; at the sound of the manly, cheery voice.

In a few hurried words Gertrude told him what she knew of the state of affairs. Meanwhile the noise had in some degree subsided. The girls followed timidly, and were in time to see the door fly open in response to the well-directed blows, and Mrs. Maryon herself come forward, pale but calm. Within the room all was now dark and silent.

Maryon and the new comer exchanged a few hurried words, and the latter turned to the girls, who clung together a few paces off. I will explain everything in a few minutes, if I may. Maryon, with some asperity. A few minutes afterwards Frank Jermyn knocked at the door of the Lorimers' sitting-room, and on being admitted, found himself well within the fire of four questioning pairs of feminine eyes.

He looked a modest, pleasant little person enough as he sat there in his light overcoat and dress clothes, all the fierceness gone out of him. It seems that the poor Frenchwoman below has been in money difficulties, and has been trying to put an end to herself.

The Maryons discovered this in time, and it has been as much as they could do to prevent her from carrying out her plan. Hence these tears," he added, with a smile. But you heard it for yourself.

A pause; the young fellow looked round rather wistfully, as though doubtful of what footing he stood on among them. Lucy assured him that they did, and the young man asked permission to call on them the next day at the studio. Then he added—. Jermyn acknowledged that such was the case; a few remarks on the subject were exchanged, then Frank went off to his dinner-party, having first shaken hands with each of the girls in all cordiality and frankness.

Maryon came up in the course of the evening, to express her regret that the ladies had been frightened and disturbed; setting aside with cynical good-humour their anxious expressions of pity and sympathy for the heroine of the affair.

Maryon circumstantially, "she had been going on owing money for ever so long, though we knew nothing about it; and at last she was [Pg 90] threatened with the bailiffs. Then what must she do but go down to the shop and make off with some of Maryon's bottles while we were at dinner.

He found it out, and took one away from her this afternoon when you complained of the noise. Later he missed the second bottle, and went up to Steffany, who was uncorking it and sniffing it, and making believe she wanted to do away with herself.

Such strength as she has, too—it was as much as me and Maryon and the girl could do between us to hold her down. She's gone home with Maryon as meek as a lamb; took her bit of supper with us, quite cheerfully.

Maryon, thoughtfully; "there's no saying what she and many other poor creatures like her have to do. There'd be no rest for any of us if we was to think of that. Gertrude lay awake that night for many hours; the events of the day had curiously shaken her.

The story of the miserable Frenchwoman, with its element of grim humour, made her sick at heart. Fenced in as she had hitherto been from the grosser realities of life, she was only beginning to realise the meaning of life. Only a plank—a plank between them and the pitiless, fathomless ocean on which they had set out with such unknowing fearlessness; into whose boiling depths hundreds sank daily and disappeared, never to rise again.

Gertrude passed her on the stairs on her way to the studio, but feigned not to notice the other's morning greeting, delivered with its usual crispness. The woman's mincing, sallow face, with its unabashed smiles, sickened her. Phyllis, who was with her, laughed softly. Ah, there is the studio bell already.

No doubt it is Mr. Jermyn," and she unconsciously assumed her most business-like air. Maryon's bottles. Frank Jermyn, whom we have left ringing at the bell, followed Gertrude down the Virginia-cork passage into the waiting-room. The curtains between this apartment and the studio were drawn aside, displaying a charming picture—Lucy, in her black gown and holland pinafore, her fair, smooth head bent over the re-touching frame; Phyllis, at an ornamental table, engaged in trimming prints, with great deftness and grace of manipulation.

Neither of the girls looked up from her work, and Frank took possession of one of the red-legged chairs, duly impressed with the business-like nature of the occasion; although, indeed, it must be confessed that his glance strayed furtively now and then in the direction of the studio and its pleasant prospect. Gertrude explained that they were quite prepared to undertake studio work.

Frank briefly stated the precise nature of the work he had ready for them, and then ensued a pause. It was humiliating, it was ridiculous, but it was none the less true, that neither of these business-like young people liked first to make a definite suggestion for the inevitable visit to Frank's studio.

She reflected a moment. There is no relying on the afternoon light. I cannot arrange to go myself, but my sister can, I think. Jermyn's studio in York Place? Every one was immensely serious; and a few minutes afterwards Mrs. Maryon, looking out from the dressmaker's window, saw a solemn young man and a sober young woman emerge together from the house, laden with tripod-stand and camera, and a box of slides, respectively.

Staines to be in for her. The question of propriety was one which she always thought best left to itself, which she hated, above all things, to discuss. Yet even her own unconventional sense of fitness was a little shocked at seeing her sister walk out of the house with an unknown young man, both of them being bound for the studio of the latter.

She was quite relieved when, an hour later, Lucy appeared in the waiting-room, fresh and radiant from her little walk. Staines has been and gone," said Gertrude. But what have you done with 'number three? I am going again to-morrow to do some work for Mr. Oakley, who shares Mr. Jermyn's studio. Phyllis, be it observed, who never remained long in the workshop, had gone out for a walk with Fan.

Do you realise that this latest development of our business is likely to excite remark? The Lorimar sisters are hired to take a variety of photographs, but the majority of their work is used for demonstration slides by university lecturers, and also post mortem photographs for the coroner. The New Women were not exactly welcomed with open arms by society. In fact, the movement's name came about when a writer by the name of Charles Reade wrote a book called "A Women Hater" which presented a case for the equal treatment of women and kick-started the women's movement.

The New Women pushed the envelope when it came to challenging traditional male and female roles in society, sometimes because they wanted to, and sometimes because, like the Lorimars, they had no choice; it was challenge the status quo, or descend into poverty.

The novel is written with a narrator and is clearly a product of its time, with contemporary colloquial language, and a style that mimicked popular fiction. Levy also references songs and entertainers of the day.