Part 54 (1/2)

”No, mademoiselle, on the contrary it is a great pleasure to me.”

”Oh! you say that in a very peculiar tone.”

I did not reply but went on with my work. Caroline became very serious and did not say another word.

”Would you mind smiling a little, mademoiselle? You do not usually have such a serious expression.”

”It's because you say nothing to amuse me, and you yourself have sometimes an expression--oh! mon Dieu! what an agreeable man you are!”

”I may have memories which are not very cheerful; and what I am doing at this moment reminds me----”

”Of what?”

”Of a person whose portrait I once painted.”

”A woman?”

”Yes.”

”A woman whom you loved, I suppose?”

”Oh, yes!”

Caroline changed color and rose abruptly, saying:

”That's enough for to-day; I won't pose any more.”

”But, mademoiselle, we have just begun.”

”I am very sorry, but I am tired; besides, I don't care any longer about having my portrait painted!”

”What new whim is this?”

”Well, monsieur, if I choose to have whims----”

”I am very sorry too, but I have begun your portrait, and I want to finish it.”

”I tell you that I don't want a portrait; you would be obliged to keep it, and I should like to know what good it would do you? A man doesn't wear a portrait. Oh, yes! in a locket sometimes, I believe.--Well, well!

now you are a.s.suming your solemn expression again. Well, here I am, monsieur, here I am, don't be angry; great heaven! I will pose as long as you wish.”

She resumed her seat. I glanced at her; she had hastily wiped her eyes, and yet I saw tears still glistening in them. What an extraordinary woman! What a combination of coquetry and sensibility! What on earth was going on in her heart? I was sometimes afraid to guess.

We worked for a long time, but I made little progress with my task, for I was absent-minded; the past and the present engrossed me in turn.

Caroline herself was thoughtful. Sometimes she talked to me about Paris, and I divined that she was anxious to learn what my business was. I saw no reason why I should not tell her that I was an advocate. She seemed pleased to learn that I practised that profession. Why did she take so much interest in my concerns? I had not addressed a word of love to her.

Our second sitting was more cheerful; we were becoming accustomed to each other. When I sighed, she scolded me and told me to work more carefully. When she was pensive, I begged her to smile, to play the coquette as she did in society. Those sittings pa.s.sed very quickly.

Really I could hardly recognize myself; there were times when I was afraid that I was becoming too thoroughly accustomed to Caroline's company. Ernest was quite right when he urged me to paint pretty women, in order to obtain distraction from my troubles.

XX