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“What! for nothing?” they said.

Pierre Grassou could not help smiling.

“You shouldn’t give away your pictures in that way; they are money,” said old Vervelle.

At the third sitting pere Vervelle mentioned a fine gallery of pictures which he had in his country-house at Ville d’Avray–Rubens, Gerard Douw, Mieris, Terburg, Rembrandt, Titian, Paul Potter, etc.

“Monsieur Vervelle has been very extravagant,” said Madame Vervelle, ostentatiously. “He has over one hundred thousand francs’ worth of pictures.”

“I love Art,” said the former bottle-dealer.

When Madame Vervelle’s portrait was begun that of her husband was nearly finished, and the enthusiasm of the family knew no bounds. The notary had spoken in the highest praise of the painter. Pierre Grassou was, he said, one of the most honest fellows on earth; he had laid by thirty-six thousand francs; his days of poverty were over; he now saved about ten thousand francs a year and capitalized the interest; in short, he was incapable of making a woman unhappy. This last remark had enormous weight in the scales. Vervelle’s friends now heard of nothing but the celebrated painter Fougeres.

The day on which Fougeres began the portrait of Mademoiselle Virginie, he was virtually son-in-law to the Vervelle family. The three Vervelles bloomed out in this studio, which they were now accustomed to consider as one of their residences; there was to them an inexplicable attraction in this clean, neat, pretty, and artistic abode. Abyssus abyssum, the commonplace attracts the commonplace. Toward the end of the sitting the stairway shook, the door was violently thrust open by Joseph Bridau; he came like a whirlwind, his hair flying. He showed his grand haggard face as he looked about him, casting everywhere the lightning of his glance; then he walked round the whole studio, and returned abruptly to Grassou, pulling his coat together over the gastric region, and endeavouring, but in vain, to button it, the button mould having escaped from its capsule of cloth.

“Wood is dear,” he said to Grassou.

“Ah!”

“The British are after me” (slang term for creditors) “Gracious! do you paint such things as that?”

“Hold your tongue!”

“Ah! to be sure, yes.”

The Vervelle family, extremely shocked by this extraordinary apparition, passed from its ordinary red to a cherry-red, two shades deeper.

“Brings in, hey?” continued Joseph. “Any shot in your locker?”

“How much do you want?”

“Five hundred. I’ve got one of those bull-dog dealers after me, and if the fellow once gets his teeth in he won’t let go while there’s a bit of me left. What a crew!”

“I’ll write you a line for my notary.”

“Have you got a notary?”

“Yes.”

“That explains to me why you still make cheeks with pink tones like a perfumer’s sign.”

Grassou could not help coloring, for Virginie was sitting.

“Take Nature as you find her,” said the great painter, going on with his lecture. “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.