Part 1 (1/2)
The Judgement of Love.
Barbara Cartland.
Author's Note.
Many famous artists have painted 'The Judgement of Paris , but I personally find the one by Johann Van Aachen is the most beautiful of them all. It is now in the Musee de la Chartreuse at Douai in France.
Johann Van Aachen was born in Cologne in 1552 when the golden age of German painting was nearly over. He studied in Italy the works of Tmtoretto and Michelangelo.
On his return he was appointed Court Painter to Emperor Rudolph II. A brilliant technician, his colour and style is very inspiring. He died in Prague in 1615.
The a.s.sociation for Promoting the Discovery of the Interior Part of Africa was founded in London in 1788 and later merged in 1830 with the Royal Geographical Society. The Societe de Geographes was founded in Paris in 1821.
1820.
CHAPTER ONE.
”This is a perfect room for your pictures !” Astara exclaimed. ”That is what I thought you would think,” Sir Roderick replied.
Astara looked around her with delight at the huge Georgian Salon.
It had whitewalls, a heavily gilded cornice and three windows opening out onto a terrace which led down to the garden.
The pale April suns.h.i.+ne coming into the room rested on damask-covered French furniture and an Aubusson carpet with a riot of cupids and flowers.
It might, Sir Roderick thought, Iooking at her, have been designed as a frame for Astara herself.
In all the long years of his life he had never seen anything quite so exquisite as her fair hair which at times seemed almost to have a touch of fire in it and framed her heart-shaped face.
Her blue eyes were the colour of a stormy Mediterranean sea, her skin like the petals of a magnolia blossom.
When she was fifteen he had left her, after her parents death, at a School in Florence and had expected that she would grow into a beauty.
But when he had returned two years later it was to find that she had exceeded all his expectations.
Now with an enthusiasm and a sparkling vitality which Sir Roderick found irresistible Astara clapped her hands. ”I have found it !' she exclaimed. ”Found the ideal spot for our picture.”
”Which one?” Sir Roderick enquired. ”We have, if you remember, collected over a hundred !”
”You know exactly the one I mean,” Astara said, ”and it would look perfect over that carved marble mantelpiece!
”I presume, ” he said teasing her, ”that you mean 'The Judgement of Paris' by a comparatively unknown German artist?”
”Of course I mean 'The Judgement of Paris ',” she replied. ”It is the loveliest painting I have ever seen and I would sacrifice all your Cranachs, Guardis and Poussins to possess it !”
”I only hope that some great Art Connoisseur does not hear you,” Sir Roderick replied dryly. ”Though I grant you Johann Van Aachen has done a very good job with this painting, which shows perhaps more than any of his other paintings that he studied the styles of Tintoretto and Michelangelo. ”
He realised as he spoke that Astara was not listening to him.
She was staring at the-mantelpiece and the s.p.a.ce over it from which Sir Roderick had ordered the removal of one of the Woottons which his father had collected so arduously.
It had not been the right place for a sporting picture, though Sir Roderick knew it was an exceptionally fine one.
-He had already decided that the paintings by Wootton, Stubbs and Hondecoeter should all be rehung in the Hall and in his Library.
There was a great deal to do to Worfield Park, but on his way back to England he had looked forward to redecorating the great house with the help of Astara.
He knew that the time she had spent in Florence had given her an education very different from that enjoyed by most English girls, and he had learnt when they were in Rome how knowledgeable she was on sculpture and the ancient Temples with which Rome abounded.
She was like a G.o.ddess herself, he thought, as she moved across the room to link her arm and say beguilingly: ”What fun we are going to have, Uncle Roderick. I have not had a home for so many years that everything about yours fascinates me.”
”I thought it would,” Sir Roderick said, ”and I am only wondering how long you will stay with me so that we can enjoy it together. ”
She looked at him with a surprised expression in her eyes and he explained: ”Judging by the number of young men in Rome who cast their hearts, their t.i.tles and their dilapidated Palaces at your feet, I cannot help antic.i.p.ating that the same thing will happen in England.”
Astara gave a little laugh and two dimples appeared in her cheeks...
”Dilapidated is the right word for most of the Palaces!” she replied, ”and I have a suspicion that a great deal of their eagerness to marry me was due to the very large dowry they expected you would give me.”
”You can say the same thing of the n.o.blemen who pursued you in Paris!”
”The French are very shrewd when it comes to business, ” Astara replied demurely.
Sir Roderick laughed.
”As it happens I have every intention that you shall marry an Englishman. I want you to live here one day and I would like to think that when I am dead your children will be playing on the lawns and sliding along the Picture Gallery. ”
”Do not talk of dying,” Astara begged. ”That is some-thing that will not happen for many, many years, and you know it would break my . . . heart to . . . lose you. You are all the . . . family I have.”
There was a little break in her voice which told Sir Roderick that she still missed almost unbearably her mother and father.
Looking back at when he had last seen the three of them together he had thought that he had never known people so happy.
But then Astaras father and mother had loved each other in a way” that few men and women are privileged to love.
Because they had died together there had been no disillusionment and no broken-hearted widow or widower left behind.
There had only been Astara, and when he had received her cry for help he had gladly gone to her, knowing that he would devote what years were left to him to looking after and caring for her.
He had often wondered if his closest friend who was Charles Beverley, although he was a much younger man, had had a strange premonition that he and his beloved wife would not return from the journey of exploration they were I1 to make amongst the mountains of Turkey.
Il While they were there, there had been a violent earth-quake and no-one in the vicinity had lived to relate exactly what had happened.
They had provided for Astara in what was the most sensible manner possible by making her a Ward of Sir Roderick Worfield. They loved him and he was as it happened an extremely rich man.