July 1892 - The Emma Hardinge Britten Archive
July 1892 - The Emma Hardinge Britten Archive
July 1892 - The Emma Hardinge Britten Archive
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190 <strong>The</strong> Mystery oj NO.9, Stanhope Street.<br />
woman, with dark, waving hair and lustrous, brown eyes,.<br />
as Max Muller has to suggest that the original Adam<br />
and Eve be painted with india rubber skins, black wool<br />
on their heads, and mouths considerably more prominent<br />
than their flat nasal organs. Be this as it may, I didn't<br />
know any better-thought of Mrs. Adam as of Mrs.<br />
Balfour in prospective, and married the girl I wished to<br />
paint but objected to degrade. <strong>The</strong> result-thus far, old<br />
fellow, was unfortunate-showed I was neither well informed<br />
concerning original, at feast B£blz'caf, crea/£ve fore.<br />
or woman's nature. My picture was rejected, and-I<br />
must say as much-every other sent in was the same.<br />
But something in my picture must have struck the rich<br />
prize-giver, for-would you believe it-he sent for me,<br />
told me I had got the wrong kind of Eve, being (I suppose)<br />
personally acquainted with the lady, and knowing<br />
her to be a blonde, not a brunette, he complimented<br />
me on my artistic skill, and assured me that if, within<br />
three years from that time, I could find a blonde Eve, all<br />
the rest was assured, and the five thousand should be<br />
mine unconditionally."<br />
" Now, Dick, fine and complimentary as all this seemed<br />
to be, it was just like water poured on a duck's back. My<br />
Eve fever had burnt out. Marriage cares came upon me.<br />
Time went on, and 1 having some talent, I suppose, and<br />
much industry, have just gone on working up daily bread<br />
and household supplies pretty successfully. I manage<br />
to win the supplies, and Madame Balfour knows how to<br />
spend them. A warm and cordial invitation from some<br />
relatives of mine at Twickenham-only a few miles from<br />
hence, you know-induced me to come to my native land<br />
on a holiday trip, a recuperative rest I much need, and<br />
now, being here, my un-reason of reason induces me to<br />
think there is an tmder, or it may be an upper, current<br />
of influence, that moves us poor mortals very much as if