And he stood there looking dismayed.
“So,” I said, ‘you are not pleased? “
He shook his head.
“Monsieur Ie Comte, I don’t know what you expect, but I assure you that anyone who understands painting …”
He turned his attention from the picture to me; he had raised those proud eyebrows very slightly; his mouth was curved in a smile which belied the astonishment his eyes were trying to convey.
‘...as you do,” he finished for me.
“Ah, yes, if I possessed that talent, I should cry: “This is a miracle. That which was hidden has now been shown to us in all its glory!” It’s true. It’s magnificent. But I’m still thinking of those emeralds. You have no idea what trouble they have caused us. Now, due to you. Mademoiselle Lawson, there will be new treasure hunts. There will be new speculations. “
I knew that he was teasing me and I told myself fiercely that he had been hoping I should fail. Now he was reluctant to admit that I had succeeded admirably, and as he couldn’t deny it, was talking about his emeralds.
It was typical of the man, I told myself; and then quickly added a reminder that whatever he was, was no concern of mine. He was of no importance to me; I was only interested in his paintings.
“And as far as the picture is concerned you have no complaints?” I asked coolly.
“You live up to your credentials.”
“Then you will wish me to continue with the rest of the paintings?”
An expression I did not understand flickered across his face.
“I should be very disappointed if you did not. “
I felt radiant. I had won.
But my triumph was not complete, for as he stood there smiling at me, I knew he was reminding me how well aware he was of my doubts and fears and everything I had sought to hide.
Neither of us had noticed that Genevieve had come into the gallery, and as she did not make her presence known she could have been there for some seconds watching us.
The Comte saw her first.
“What do you want, Genevi eve?” he asked.
“I… I came to see how Mademoiselle Lawson was getting on with the picture.” | “Then come and see.” | She came, looking sullen as she so often did in company!
“There!” he said.
“Is it not a revelation?”
She did not answer.
“Mademoiselle Lawson expects to be complimented on her work. You remember what the picture was like before.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Such lack of artistic appreciation! You must try to persuade Mademoiselle Lawson to teach you to understand pictures while she is with us.”
“So … she is going to stay?”
His voice changed suddenly. It was almost caressing.
“I hope,” he said, ‘for a long time. Because you see there are so many in the chateau who need her attentions. “
Genevieve gave me a swift glance; her eyes were hard; they looked like black stones. She turned to the picture and said:
“Perhaps if she is so clever she will find the emeralds for us.”
“You see Mademoiselle Lawson, it is exactly as I said.”
“They certainly look magnificent,” I replied.
“No doubt due to the artist’s … er … facility with paint?”
I cared nothing for his mockery, nor for the brooding resentment of his daughter. It was these beautiful paintings which were my concern, and the fact that they were now shrouded in the fog of neglect only made my project the more exciting.
Even in that moment he knew what I was thinking, for he bowed and said: “I will leave you. Mademoiselle Lawson. I can see you are eager to be alone … with the pictures.” He signed to Genevieve to go with him; and when they had gone I stood there in the gallery and let my eyes revel first in one and then in another.
I had rarely been so excited in my life.
Now that I was staying at the chateau to complete the work I decided to take advantage of the Comte’s offer and make use of the stables, which would enable me to see in more of the country. I had already explored the little town; had drunk coffee in the patisserie, chatting with the genial but inquisitive proprietress, who was pleased to welcome anyone from the chateau. She had talked with reverence but sly knowingness of Monsieur Ie Comte, with respectful contempt of Monsieur Philippe, and with pity for Mademoiselle Genevieve. And mademoiselle was there to clean the pictures! Well, well, that was very interesting, that was, and she hoped mademoiselle would come again and next time perhaps take a little of the gateau de la mais on which was highly thought of in Gaillard.
I had wandered through the market and had seen the glances in my direction; I had visited the ancient hotel de ville and the church.
So the prospect of going farther afield was pleasant and I was particularly pleased that I was expected at the stables.
A suitable mount was found for me named Bonhomme and we approved of each other from the beginning.
I was surprised and pleased when Genevieve asked me if she could accompany me one morning. She was in one of her demure moods and as we rode I asked her why she had been so foolish as to shut me in the oubliette.
“Well, you weren’t afraid, so you said, and I didn’t think it would hurt you.”
“It was a stupid thing to do. Suppose Nounou hadn’t found out!”
“I should have rescued you after a while.”
“After a while! Do you know some people might have died of fright?”
“Died!” she said fearfully.
“No one dies of being shut up.”
“Some nervous people might have died of fright.”
“But you never would.” She regarded me intently.
“You didn’t tell my father. I thought you might… as you and he are so friendly.”
She rode on a little way in advance, and when we returned to the stables she said casually: “I’m not allowed to ride alone. I always have to take one of the grooms with me. There was no one to ride with me this morning, so I shouldn’t have had a ride if you hadn’t come with me.”
“I’m glad to have been of service,” I replied coolly.
I met Philippe when I was in the gardens and I fancied he knew I was there and had come out purposely to talk to me.
“Congratulations,” he said.
“I’ve been looking at the picture. The difference is remarkable. It’s hardly recognizable.”
I glowed with pleasure. How different, I thought, from the Comte. He is genuinely pleased.
“I’m so glad you think so.”
“Who could help thinking so! It’s miraculous. I’m delighted not only that the picture is a success but that you’ve proved you could do it.”
“How kind of you!”
“I’m afraid I was rather ungracious when you arrived. I was so taken by surprise and not sure what would be expected of me.”
“You were not ungracious, and I can well understand your surprise.”
“You see, this was my cousin’s affair, and naturally I wanted to do what he would wish.”
“Naturally. And it is good of you to take such an interest.”
He wrinkled his brow.
“I feel a kind of responsibility …” he began.
“I hope that you will not regret coming here.”
“Indeed no. The work is proving to be most interesting.”
“Oh, yes … yes … the work.”
He began to speak rather hurriedly of the gardens and insisted on showing me the sculptured decorations which had been done by Le Brun soon after he had completed the frescoes in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles.
“Fortunately they escaped at the time of the Revolution,” he explained; and I sensed his reverence for everything connected with the chateau. I liked him for it also for his gracious apology for anything he might have said to hurt me during our first interview and his obvious pleasure in the fact that I had succeeded.