Part 5 (1/2)
”If you please, we will lose no time,” said Marien, rather roughly, seeing that Jacqueline was about to explore all the corners of his apartment, and that at that moment, with the tips of her fingers, she was drawing aside the covering he had cast over his Death of Savonarola, the picture he was then at work upon. It was not the least of his grudges against Jacqueline for insisting on having her portrait painted that it obliged him to lay aside this really great work, that he might paint a likeness.
”In ten minutes I shall be ready,” said Jacqueline, obediently taking off her hat.
”Why can't you stay as you are? That jacket suits you. Let us begin immediately.”
”No, indeed! What a horrid suggestion!” she cried, running up to the box which was half open. ”You'll see how much better I can look in a moment or two.”
”I put no faith in your fancies about your toilette. I certainly don't promise to accept them.”
Nevertheless, he left her alone with her Bernese governess, saying: ”Call me when you are ready, I shall be in the next room.”
A quarter of an hour, and more, pa.s.sed, and no signal had been given.
Marien, getting out of patience, knocked on the door.
”Have you nearly done beautifying yourself?” he asked, in a tone of irony.
”Just done,” replied a low voice, which trembled.
He went in, and to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of Fraulein Schult, who was not too preoccupied to notice everything, he stood confounded--petrified, as a man might be by some work of magic. What had become of Jacqueline?
What had she in common with that dazzling vision? Had she been touched by some fairy's wand? Or, to accomplish such a transformation, had nothing been needed but the subst.i.tution of a woman's dress, fitted to her person, for the short skirts and loose waists cut in a boyish fas.h.i.+on, which had made the little girl seem hardly to belong to any s.e.x, an indefinite being, condemned, as it were, to childishness? How tall, and slender, and graceful she looked in that long gown, the folds of which fell from her waist in flowing lines, a waist as round and flexible as the branch of a willow; what elegance there was in her modest corsage, which displayed for the first time her lovely arms and neck, half afraid of their own exposure. She still was not robust, but the leanness that she herself had owned to was not brought into prominence by any bone or angle, her dark skin was soft and polished, the color of ancient statues which have been slightly tinted yellow by exposure to the sun. This girl, a Parisienne, seemed formed on the model of a figurine of Tanagra. Greek, too, was her small head, crowned only by her usual braid of hair, which she had simply gathered up so as to show the nape of her neck, which was perhaps the most beautiful thing in all her beautiful person.
”Well!--what do you think of me?” she said to Marien, with a searching glance to see how she impressed him--a glance strangely like that of a grown woman.
”Well!--I can't get over it!--Why have you bedizened yourself in that fas.h.i.+on?” he asked, with an affectation of 'brusquerie', as he tried to recover his power of speech.
”Then you don't like me?” she murmured, in a low voice. Tears came into her eyes; her lips trembled.
”I don't see Jacqueline.”
”No--I should hope not--but I am better than Jacqueline, am I not?”
”I am accustomed to Jacqueline. This new acquaintance disconcerts me. Give me time to get used to her. But once again let me ask, what possessed you to disguise yourself?”
”I am not disguised. I am disguised when I am forced to wear those things, which do not suit me,” said Jacqueline, pointing to her gray jacket and plaid skirt which were hung up on a hat-rack. ”Oh, I know why mamma keeps me like that--she is afraid I should get too fond of dress before I have finished my education, and that my mind may be diverted from serious subjects. It is no doubt all intended for my good, but I should not lose much time if I turned up my hair like this, and what harm could there be in lengthening my skirts an inch or two? My picture will show her that I am improved by such little changes, and perhaps it will induce hor to let me go to the Bal Blanc that Madame d'Etaples is going to give on Yvonne's birthday. Mamma declined for me, saying I was not fit to wear a low-necked corsage, but you see she was mistaken.”
”Rather,” said Marien, smiling in spite of himself.
”Yes--wasn't she?” she went on, delighted at his look. ”Of course, I have bones, but they don't show like the great hollows under the collar-bones that Dolly shows, for instance--but Dolly looks stouter than I because her face is so round. Well! Dolly is going to Madame d'Etaples's ball.”
”I grant,” said Marien, devoting all his attention to the preparation of his palette, that she might not see him laugh, ”I grant that you have bones--yes, many bones--but they are not much seen because they are too well placed to be obtrusive.”
”I am glad of that,” said Jacqueline, delighted.
”But let me ask you one question. Where did you pick up that queer gown?
It seems to me that I have seen it somewhere.”
”No doubt you have,” replied Jacqueline, who had quite recovered from her first shock, and was now ready to talk; ”it is the dress mamma had made some time ago when she acted in a comedy.”
”So I thought,” growled Marien, biting his lips.
The dress recalled to his mind many personal recollections, and for one instant he paused. Madame de Nailles, among other talents, possessed that of amateur acting. On one occasion, several years before, she had asked his advice concerning what dress she should wear in a little play of Scribe's, which was to be given at the house of Madame d'Avrigny--the house in all Paris most addicted to private theatricals. This reproduction of a forgotten play, with its characters attired in the costume of the period in which the play was placed, had had great success, a success due largely to the excellence of the costumes. In the comic parts the dressing had been purposely exaggerated, but Madame de Nailles, who played the part of a great coquette, would not have been dressed in character had she not tried to make herself as bewitching as possible.