“‘Making good’ isn’t merely dropping into soft snaps, Jimmy,” I said
sadly.
Jimmy suddenly whistled under his breath, and I saw him looking at a
couple of women who were coming toward us. He raised his hat as they
passed us, but although the younger woman returned his bow, the older
one stared at him indignantly, and then she gave me a very severe and
condemning glance. All of a sudden I knew who that woman was. I
recognized her by her hat. She was Jimmy’s mother!
The following day, I had a letter from her. She said I was ruining her
son’s future, and if I did not give him up he would soon be without a
home. She said that he was in serious trouble with his father, and that
the latter intended to send him out West, and that she hoped I would do
nothing to prevent her son from going. Finally she said that if her son
were to marry a model the family would never forgive him and that such a
disgrace would break all of their hearts, besides ruining him.
I did not answer her letter. I sat for a very long time thinking about
my life. What was there wrong about being a model, then, that society
should have cast the bar sinister upon it? Surely, there was no disgrace
in one who had beauty having that beauty transferred to canvas. I had
long ago ceased to despise the profession myself. The more I posed, the
more I felt even a sort of pride in my work, though I still thought one
was “beyond the pale” when one posed completely nude.
Miss Darling knocked at my door, and brought in a telegram. I thought at
first it was from Reggie--that he was at last coming, as he had been
threatening in all of his letters to do, and my hands were trembling
when I broke the flap. But it was from poor Jimmy--Jimmy en route to
Colorado, entreating me to write to him and assuring me that he never
would forget his “own little Marion,” and that he would “make good” and
I’d be proud of him yet. I sat down to write an impulsive answer to the
boy, and then my eye fell upon his mother’s letter. No! I would not ruin
her son’s life. Jimmy should have his opportunity, but I said to myself
with a sob:
“And if Jimmy ever does make good, they’ll have _me_ to thank for it,
even if I am an artist’s model!”