A Start in Life [46]
A single glance
at each other was enough to arrange a scheme that they should take
Estelle seriously on her own ground, and thus find amusement enough
during the time of their stay.
"You say you love art, madame; perhaps you cultivate it successfully,"
said Joseph Bridau.
"No. Without being neglected, my education was purely commercial; but
I have so profound and delicate a sense of art that Monsieur Schinner
always asked me, when he had finished a piece of work, to give him my
opinion on it."
"Just as Moliere consulted La Foret," said Mistigris.
Not knowing that La Foret was Moliere's servant-woman, Madame Moreau
inclined her head graciously, showing that in her ignorance she
accepted the speech as a compliment.
"Didn't he propose to 'croquer' you?" asked Bridau. "Painters are
eager enough after handsome women."
"What may you mean by such language?"
"In the studios we say croquer, craunch, nibble, for sketching,"
interposed Mistigris, with an insinuating air, "and we are always
wanting to croquer beautiful heads. That's the origin of the
expression, 'She is pretty enough to eat.'"
"I was not aware of the origin of the term," she replied, with the
sweetest glance at Mistigris.
"My pupil here," said Bridau, "Monsieur Leon de Lora, shows a
remarkable talent for portraiture. He would be too happy, I know, to
leave you a souvenir of our stay by painting your charming head,
madame."
Joseph Bridau made a sign to Mistigris which meant: "Come, sail in,
and push the matter; she is not so bad in looks, this woman."
Accepting the glance, Leon de Lora slid down upon the sofa beside
Estelle and took her hand, which she permitted.
"Oh! madame, if you would like to offer a surprise to your husband,
and will give me a few secret sittings I would endeavor to surpass
myself. You are so beautiful, so fresh, so charming! A man without any
talent might become a genius in painting you. He would draw from your
eyes--"
"We must paint your dear children in the arabesques," said Bridau,
interrupting Mistigris.
"I would rather have them in the salon; but perhaps I am indiscreet in
asking it," she replied, looking at Bridau coquettishly.
"Beauty, madame, is a sovereign whom all painters worship; it has
unlimited claims upon them."
"They are both charming," thought Madame Moreau. "Do you enjoy
driving? Shall I take you through the woods, after dinner, in my
carriage?"
"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Mistigris, in three ecstatic tones. "Why, Presles
will prove our terrestrial paradise."
"With an Eve, a fair, young, fascinating woman," added Bridau.
Just as Madame Moreau was bridling, and soaring to the seventh heaven,
she was recalled like a kite by a twitch at its line.
"Madame!" cried her maid-servant, bursting into the room.
"Rosalie," said her mistress, "who allowed you to come here without
being sent for?"
Rosalie paid no heed to the rebuke, but whispered in her mistress's
ear:--
"The count is at the chateau."
"Has he asked for me?" said the steward's wife.
"No, madame; but he wants his trunk and the key of his apartment."
"Then give them to him," she replied, making an impatient gesture to
hide her real trouble.
"Mamma! here's Oscar Husson," said her youngest son, bringing in
Oscar, who turned as red as a poppy on seeing the two artists in
evening dress.
"Oh! so you have come, my little Oscar," said Estelle, stiffly. "I
hope you will now go and dress," she added, after looking at him
contemptuously from head to foot. "Your mother, I presume, has not
accustomed you to dine in such clothes as those."
"Oh!" cried the cruel Mistigris, "a future diplomatist knows the
saying that 'two coats are better than none.'"
"How do you mean, a future diplomatist?" exclaimed Madame Moreau.
Poor Oscar had tears in his eyes as he looked in turn from
at each other was enough to arrange a scheme that they should take
Estelle seriously on her own ground, and thus find amusement enough
during the time of their stay.
"You say you love art, madame; perhaps you cultivate it successfully,"
said Joseph Bridau.
"No. Without being neglected, my education was purely commercial; but
I have so profound and delicate a sense of art that Monsieur Schinner
always asked me, when he had finished a piece of work, to give him my
opinion on it."
"Just as Moliere consulted La Foret," said Mistigris.
Not knowing that La Foret was Moliere's servant-woman, Madame Moreau
inclined her head graciously, showing that in her ignorance she
accepted the speech as a compliment.
"Didn't he propose to 'croquer' you?" asked Bridau. "Painters are
eager enough after handsome women."
"What may you mean by such language?"
"In the studios we say croquer, craunch, nibble, for sketching,"
interposed Mistigris, with an insinuating air, "and we are always
wanting to croquer beautiful heads. That's the origin of the
expression, 'She is pretty enough to eat.'"
"I was not aware of the origin of the term," she replied, with the
sweetest glance at Mistigris.
"My pupil here," said Bridau, "Monsieur Leon de Lora, shows a
remarkable talent for portraiture. He would be too happy, I know, to
leave you a souvenir of our stay by painting your charming head,
madame."
Joseph Bridau made a sign to Mistigris which meant: "Come, sail in,
and push the matter; she is not so bad in looks, this woman."
Accepting the glance, Leon de Lora slid down upon the sofa beside
Estelle and took her hand, which she permitted.
"Oh! madame, if you would like to offer a surprise to your husband,
and will give me a few secret sittings I would endeavor to surpass
myself. You are so beautiful, so fresh, so charming! A man without any
talent might become a genius in painting you. He would draw from your
eyes--"
"We must paint your dear children in the arabesques," said Bridau,
interrupting Mistigris.
"I would rather have them in the salon; but perhaps I am indiscreet in
asking it," she replied, looking at Bridau coquettishly.
"Beauty, madame, is a sovereign whom all painters worship; it has
unlimited claims upon them."
"They are both charming," thought Madame Moreau. "Do you enjoy
driving? Shall I take you through the woods, after dinner, in my
carriage?"
"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Mistigris, in three ecstatic tones. "Why, Presles
will prove our terrestrial paradise."
"With an Eve, a fair, young, fascinating woman," added Bridau.
Just as Madame Moreau was bridling, and soaring to the seventh heaven,
she was recalled like a kite by a twitch at its line.
"Madame!" cried her maid-servant, bursting into the room.
"Rosalie," said her mistress, "who allowed you to come here without
being sent for?"
Rosalie paid no heed to the rebuke, but whispered in her mistress's
ear:--
"The count is at the chateau."
"Has he asked for me?" said the steward's wife.
"No, madame; but he wants his trunk and the key of his apartment."
"Then give them to him," she replied, making an impatient gesture to
hide her real trouble.
"Mamma! here's Oscar Husson," said her youngest son, bringing in
Oscar, who turned as red as a poppy on seeing the two artists in
evening dress.
"Oh! so you have come, my little Oscar," said Estelle, stiffly. "I
hope you will now go and dress," she added, after looking at him
contemptuously from head to foot. "Your mother, I presume, has not
accustomed you to dine in such clothes as those."
"Oh!" cried the cruel Mistigris, "a future diplomatist knows the
saying that 'two coats are better than none.'"
"How do you mean, a future diplomatist?" exclaimed Madame Moreau.
Poor Oscar had tears in his eyes as he looked in turn from