As soon as Andre had released her hand, Sabine took off her hat, and, handing it to Modeste, remarked,--"How am I looking to-day, Andre?"
The young painter hastened to reassure her on this point, and she continued in joyous tones,--"No, I do not want compliments; I want to know if I look the right thing for sitting for my portrait."Sabine was very beautiful, but hers was a different style of beauty from that of Rose, whose ripe, sensuous charms were fitted to captivate the admiration of the voluptuary, while Sabine was of the most refined and ethereal character. Rose fettered the body with earthly trammels, while Sabine drew the soul heavenward. Her beauty was not of the kind that dazzles, for the air of proud reserve which she threw over it, in some slight measure obscured its brilliancy.
She might have passed unnoticed, like the work of a great master's brush hanging neglected over the altar of a village church; but when the eye had once fathomed that hidden beauty, it never ceased to gaze on it with admiration. She had a broad forehead, covered with a wealth of chestnut hair, soft, lustrous eyes, and an exquisitely chiselled mouth.
"Alas!" said Andre, "when I gaze upon you, I have to confess how impossible it is to do you justice. Before you came I had fancied that the portrait was completed, but now I see that I have only made a failure."As he spoke, he drew aside the curtain, and the young girl's portrait was revealed. It was by no means a work of extraordinary merit. The artist was only twenty-four years of age, and had been compelled to interrupt his studies to toil for his daily bread, but it was full of originality and genius. Sabine gazed at it for a few moments in silence, and then murmured the words,--"It is lovely!"
But Andre was too discouraged to notice her praise.
"It is like," remarked he, "but a photograph also has that merit. Ihave only got your features, but not your expression; it is an utter failure. Shall I try again?"Sabine stopped him with a gesture of denial.
"You shall not try again," said she decidedly.
"And why not?" asked he in astonishment.
"Because this visit will be my last, Andre."
"The last?" stammered the painter. "In what way have I so offended you, that you should inflict so terrible a punishment on me?""I do not wish to punish you. You asked for my portrait, and I yielded to your request; but let us talk reasonably. Do you not know that I am risking my reputation by coming here day after day?"Andre made no reply, for this unexpected blow had almost stunned him.
"Besides," continued Mademoiselle de Mussidan, "what is to be done with the portrait? It must be hidden away, as if it were something we were ashamed of. Remember, on your success hangs our marriage.""I do not forget that."
"Hasten then to gain all honor and distinction, for the world must agree with me in saying that my choice has been a wise one.""I will do so."
"I fully believe you, dear Andre, and remember what I said to you a year ago. Achieve a name, then go to my father and ask for my hand. If he refuses, if my supplications do not move him, I will quit his roof forever.""You are right," answered Andre. "I should indeed by a fool if Isacrificed a future happy life for a few hours of present enjoyment, and I will implicitly--""And now," said Sabine, "that we have agreed on this point, let us discuss our mutual interests, of which it seems that we have been a little negligent up till now."Andre at once began to tell her of all that had befallen him since they had last met, his defeats and successes.
"I am in an awkward plight," said he. "Yesterday, that well known collector, Prince Crescenzi, came to my studio. One of my pictures took his fancy, and he ordered another from me, for which he would pay six thousand francs.""That was quite a stroke of luck."
"Just so, but unfortunately he wants it directly. Then Jean Lamou, who has more in his hand than he can manage, has offered me the decoration of a palatial edifice that he is building for a great speculator, M.
Gandelu. I am to engage all the workmen, and shall receive some seven or eight hundred francs a month.""But how does this trouble you?"
"I will tell you. I have twice seen M. Gandelu, and he wants me to begin work at once; but I cannot accept both, and must choose between them."Sabine reflected.
"I should execute the Prince's commission," said she.
"So should I, only----"
The girl easily found the cause of his hesitation.
"Will you never forget that I am wealthy?" replied she.
"The one would bring in the most money," he returned, "and the other most credit.""Then accept the offer of M. Gandelu."
The old cuckoo-clock in the corner struck five.
"Before we part, dear Andre," resumed she, "I must tell you of a fresh trouble which threatens us; there is a project for marrying me to M.
de Breulh-Faverlay."
"What, that very wealthy gentleman?"
"Just so."
