Part 12 (1/2)
On the day after Holm had been up to Mrs. Rantzau, William and Marie came into the office. Each wore an air of serious importance, and Holm at once suspected something in the wind.
”Father, we want to read you something. It's from an article in the paper.”
”Right you are, my boy--go ahead!”
”It's about that picture of mine, the big one of 'Rebecca and the Camels,' that's on exhibition now in Christiania.”
”What's she doing with the camels?”
”Giving them water.”
”Oh, I see. Watering the camelias; yes, go on.”
”Father, I don't think it's nice of you always to be making fun of William,” put in Marie.
”Making fun? Not a bit of it, my dear offspring, I'm highly interested.”
”Don't you want to hear what the papers say about my work?”
”That's just what I'm waiting for, if you'll only begin.”
William opened the paper and read out solemnly:
”This large canvas, 'Rebecca and the Camels,' is the work of that promising young painter, William Holm.
”The most surprising feature of the picture, at a first glance, is the courage and self-confidence displayed by this young artist in handling so lofty a theme.
”Naturally, some of the details are not altogether happy in their execution, but, taken as a whole, one cannot but admit that it is a real work of art, and the country may be congratulated on adding a fresh name to the roll of its talented artists.
”With the further study which, we understand, he is shortly about to undertake in Paris, William Holm should have a great future before him.”
”Very nice, my son, very pretty indeed. And I suppose it's your pet particular friend, Listad, who wrote it? Does credit to his imagination, I'm sure.”
”It was written by a critic of ability and understanding.”
”It would be, of course.”
”And after that you surely can't have any objection to our going to Paris?”
”We should like to go at once, papa,” added Marie.
”I dare say you would. But I think we ought to have a little more conclusive proof of your talent first. Well, I will make you an offer. William, you can send your picture to Copenhagen, and have it exhibited there anonymously: then we will abide by what the critics say. If it's good, why, I give in; if it's slated, then you agree to start work in the office here with me forthwith, and leave your paint-pots till your leisure, to amuse yourself and your friends apart from your work with me.
”And you, Marie, you can tell your music-mistress, Mrs. Rantzau, that you are seriously thinking of going to the opera, and ask her candid opinion of your prospects. If she advises you to do so, well and good, you shall go to Paris; if not, then you stay at home and begin to learn house-keeping like any other young woman. Isn't that fair?”
”Yes, that's fair enough,” said William. ”I'm not afraid of what the Copenhagen critics will say.”
”And I know Mrs. Rantzau will tell me I ought to go on.”
As soon as they had gone, Holm stole off quietly to Mrs. Rantzau and told her all that had pa.s.sed.