Jacky S - Suburban Souls, Book I

I gathered that if she had work for Paris, or customers there to attend to, I might be able to possess her. Of course, it was easy to see that money would get her to come to me. I should have had to invent buyers for her hats and bonnets in the gay capital, pay for the things ordered, which would never have been made, or some like scheme.

But I had no money to spare. What little my purse contained was to pay for my poor mistress's comforts in her incurable illness.

Lilian showed me a small and very pretty watch her father had given her, and in his presence, she said she wanted a true lover's knot in various little precious stones to hang it on to the bosom of her dress. I said that I should be pleased to get it for her, if her father would let me do so.

He replied frankly enough: “Well, Jacky, as far as I am concerned, I shouldn't mind a bit, but her mother would never let her take it. She would be awfully offended and give it back to you at once. So you must not do it. We are English you know, but the 'missus' is French.”

Some months later, when alluding to this, Lilian shrugged her shoulders and said: “You should have given it to me all the same; they would not have minded, after the first growl.”

When I left them late at night, with Lilian's promise to come to me soon and her parents' flattering compliments and hearty good wishes, I could not help thinking that Papa's pretty gift of the watch to Lilian was in return for some slight pleasure he had experienced by her side and in her virginal bed, while nursing Mamma through the influenza at Monte-Carlo. And a wave of concupiscence swept over me at the thought.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

(No date or place.) Received May 29, 1898.

The little daughter is thinking deeply about her darling little father. She adores him and hopes to see him soon.

A long and soft kiss,

LILIAN.

I tried to get her some customers among my friends' mistresses, talking to them of a cheap little modiste I knew down in the country, who would not object to do up their old hats or work with their own materials. I was promised some orders, and I wrote and told her about my negotiations. I suppose, by her answer, I must have written a very voluptuous letter, although for the life of me, I cannot remember now what I said.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

(No date or place.) Received June 1, 1898.

My own beloved,

What a naughty, wicked, cheeky, and yet delicious letter! Truly only you can write like that. But what effrontery to class me as a little modiste.

Know then, my beloved Papa, that here I am considered as the best bonnet-builder of the locality and for miles round my fame has spread. I am the Virot of the village. It is a very grave thing to try and destroy my good reputation, so that you will get one kiss and one caress less. That is how I serve you for being so rude.

But let us speak seriously:

It is quite immaterial to me who I work for. I do not care if they are the sort of women you mention. They already form the majority of my customers. The only trouble is that they would take up a lot of my time, whereas if I could get an order from a wholesale house, as I told you, I should only have to give the necessary orders to set my workgirls going, and then I could escape and be a whole afternoon with my adored little Papa. Which would be very naughty, but very agreeable. You, who have plenty of time on your hands, why do you not go among the wholesale people and try and find something for me to do?

If you don't find a way to make me come to Paris, I can't answer for my virtue, for since last Wednesday, after the day you passed at our house, I have no wish to be a good girl, quite the contrary.

So search and you will find. You will see that you won't regret your trouble, for your little daughter knows well how to reward you for all your efforts in her favour.

I love you,

LILIAN.

LILIAN TO JACKY.

(No date or place.) Received June 23, 1898.

My very dirty, but well-beloved Papa,

It is absolutely charming of you to think of your little daughter. She, on her part, does not forget you, which is quite natural, is it not? I await with impatience these famous lady customers you write to me about, for then my adored master will have all his work cut out to content me!

I am as naughty as can be at this moment in imagination only, naturally, from the idea of the action. Nevertheless, there is but one step, I think?

Your little daughter is unhappy just now; her mother is as hard and unjust as possible towards her. Mr. A… tells me that it is her change of life that is beginning to upset her, and that I must not pay attention to what she says or does, but I assure you that very often my patience gives out, and twice this week I have been on the point of leaving the house, as this sudden change in her conduct where I am concerned afflicts me awfully and makes me miserable. I cry nearly every day. If I were with my dear little Papa, how different all this would be! I want you more than ever. I hunger for that warm affection you show for me. I am discouraged.

I love you madly,

LILIAN.

I had indeed noticed that Lilian and her mother were at loggerheads. It was not to be wondered at. Mr. Arvel's mistress was evidently jealous of the attention he paid to her daughter, and, I could see, did not like the way they played together. They always had sly jokes to crack together, on very lax subjects.

Papa would chaff Lilian about “going to the theatre.” He would say: “You like going to the theatre, Lilian?” The girl would giggle, the mother frown, and my host laugh outright. I sat by like a fool, and had to wait my opportunity to ask Lilian what “the theatre” meant, especially as they were not playgoers. It appears they knew a gentleman who had stopped at their house some time and who hated the drama. He had said that playhouses were sinks of iniquity and that people only frequented them to indulge in sly caresses and pull each other about. So “going to the theatre,” in the Arvel language, meant the action of a man and a woman tousling and libidinously romping. Lilian, it was easy to see, was on the road to become her stepfather's pleasure-tool, to say the least. And I liked to see the lickerish girl and the sensual old man together. I was thus able to come to the conclusion that neither Mr. or Mrs. Arvel were capable of giving proper advice to the brother or the sister. How they were to behave in life; the duties that they owed to themselves or society; the future of the woman; or the honesty and honour of the man; nothing touching on the proper way to live had ever been told to them. And why? The mother and he who stood in the position of father were absolutely incapable of instructing them. There were no sentiments at the Villa Lilian-only appetites. All they knew was that they should try and earn money and save a little; eat and drink; and when they found anybody less cunning than themselves-take advantage of them.

I could see no real affection in Arvel's house at present. He liked Lilian in a lustful way, Mrs. Arvel was fond of her man because he kept the house a-going, but they all spoke against each other, as each turned their backs. And when their appetites were satisfied they started quarrelling, I suppose, as they quarreled before me without shame.

Papa had a rough, loud voice, and one master builder, who was engaged on the house, refused to come any more, as he said he was not used to being bullied and hollered at. Mrs. Arvel was a shrew, and could not keep a servant, and Lilian answered her mother impudently, because she felt that Papa was behind her.

Nevertheless, Mr. Arvel sometimes vented his wrath on saucy Lilian, too. He had told her on my last visit that women were incapable of getting their living. She turned sullen, and the black cloud came over her face. Her lips were blue, as she answered: “I get mine. Don't I pay you for my board?”