"Mademoiselle is red-haired. Well, is that a sin? All
things are magnificent in painting. Put some vermillion on your
palette, and warm up those cheeks; touch in those little brown spots;
come, butter it well in. Do you pretend to have more sense than
Nature?"
"Look here," said Fougeres, "take my place while I go and write that
note."
Vervelle rolled to the table and whispered in Grassou's ear:--
"Won't that country lout spoilt it?"
"If he would only paint the portrait of your Virginie it would be
worth a thousand times more than mine," replied Fougeres, vehemently.
Hearing that reply the bourgeois beat a quiet retreat to his wife, who
was stupefied by the invasion of this ferocious animal, and very
uneasy at his co-operation in her daughter's portrait.
"Here, follow these indications," said Bridau, returning the palette,
and taking the note. "I won't thank you. I can go back now to
d'Arthez' chateau, where I am doing a dining-room, and Leon de Lora
the tops of the doors--masterpieces! Come and see us."
And off he went without taking leave, having had enough of looking at
Virginie.
"Who is that man?" asked Madame Vervelle.
"A great artist," answered Grassou.
There was silence for a moment.
"Are you quite sure," said Virginie, "that he has done no harm to my
portrait? He frightened me."
"He has only done it good," replied Grassou.
"Well, if he is a great artist, I prefer a great artist like you,"
said Madame Vervelle.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37