villa rubein and other stories-第6章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！



Nicholas　Treffry　in　a　long；　whitish　dust…coat；　his　Italian　servant；

perched　behind；　was　holding　to　the　seat…rail；　with　a　nervous　grin　on

his　dark　face。



'Certainly；'　Harz　thought；　'there's　no　getting　away　from　these　people

this　morningthey　are　everywhere。'



In　his　studio　he　began　to　sort　his　sketches；　wash　his　brushes；　and

drag　out　things　he　had　accumulated　during　his　two　months'　stay。　　He

even　began　to　fold　his　blanket　door。　　But　suddenly　he　stopped。　　Those

two　girls！　　Why　not　try？　　What　a　picture！　　The　two　heads；　the　sky；

and　leaves！　　Begin　to…morrow！　　Against　that　windowno；　better　at　the

Villa！　　Call　the　pictureSpring。。。！









IV



The　wind；　stirring　among　trees　and　bushes；　flung　the　young　leaves

skywards。　　The　trembling　of　their　silver　linings　was　like　the　joyful

flutter　of　a　heart　at　good　news。　　It　was　one　of　those　Spring　mornings

when　everything　seems　full　of　a　sweet　restlessnesssoft　clouds

chasing　fast　across　the　sky；　soft　scents　floating　forth　and　dying；

the　notes　of　birds；　now　shrill　and　sweet；　now　hushed　in　silences；　all

nature　striving　for　something；　nothing　at　peace。



Villa　Rubein　withstood　the　influence　of　the　day；　and　wore　its　usual

look　of　rest　and　isolation。　　Harz　sent　in　his　card；　and　asked　to　see

〃der　Herr。〃　　The　servant；　a　grey…eyed；　clever…looking　Swiss　with　no

hair　on　his　face；　came　back　saying：



〃Der　Herr；　mein　Herr；　is　in　the　Garden　gone。〃　　Harz　followed　him。



Herr　Paul；　a　small　white　flannel　cap　on　his　head；　gloves　on　his

hands；　and　glasses　on　his　nose；　was　watering　a　rosebush；　and　humming

the　serenade　from　Faust。



This　aspect　of　the　house　was　very　different　from　the　other。　　The　sun

fell　on　it；　and　over　a　veranda　creepers　clung　and　scrambled　in　long

scrolls。　　There　was　a　lawn；　with　freshly　mown　grass；　flower…beds　were

laid　out；　and　at　the　end　of　an　avenue　of　young　acacias　stood　an

arbour　covered　with　wisteria。



In　the　east；　mountain　peaksfingers　of　snowglittered　above　the

mist。　　A　grave　simplicity　lay　on　that　scene；　on　the　roofs　and　spires；

the　valleys　and　the　dreamy　hillsides；　with　their　yellow　scars　and

purple　bloom；　and　white　cascades；　like　tails　of　grey　horses　swishing

in　the　wind。



Herr　Paul　held　out　his　hand：　〃What　can　we　do　for　you？〃　he　said。



〃I　have　to　beg　a　favour；〃　replied　Harz。　　〃I　wish　to　paint　your

daughters。　　I　will　bring　the　canvas　herethey　shall　have　no　trouble。

I　would　paint　them　in　the　garden　when　they　have　nothing　else　to　do。〃



Herr　Paul　looked　at　him　dubiouslyever　since　the　previous　day　he　had

been　thinking：　'Queer　bird；　that　painterthinks　himself　the　devil　of

a　swell！　　Looks　a　determined　fellow　too！'　　Nowstaring　in　the

painter's　faceit　seemed　to　him；　on　the　whole；　best　if　some　one　else

refused　this　permission。



〃With　all　the　pleasure；　my　dear　sir；〃　he　said。　　〃Come；　let　us　ask

these　two　young　ladies！〃　and　putting　down　his　hose；　he　led　the　way

towards　the　arbour；　thinking：　'You'll　be　disappointed；　my　young

conqueror；　or　I'm　mistaken。'



Miss　Naylor　and　the　girls　were　sitting　in　the　shade；　reading　La

Fontaine's　fables。　　Greta；　with　one　eye　on　her　governess；　was

stealthily　cutting　a　pig　out　of　orange　peel。



〃Ah！　my　dear　dears！〃　began　Herr　Paul；　who　in　the　presence　of　Miss

Naylor　always　paraded　his　English。　　〃Here　is　our　friend；　who　has　a

very　flattering　request　to　make；　he　would　paint　you；　yesboth

together；　alfresco；　in　the　air；　in　the　sunshine；　with　the　birds；　the

little　birds！〃



Greta；　gazing　at　Harz；　gushed　deep　pink；　and　furtively　showed　him　her

pig。



Christian　said：　〃Paint　us？　　Oh　no！〃



She　saw　Harz　looking　at　her；　and　added；　slowly：　〃If　you　really　wish

it；　I　suppose　we　could！〃　then　dropped　her　eyes。



〃Ah！〃　said　Herr　Paul　raising　his　brows　till　his　glasses　fell　from　his

nose：　〃And　what　says　Gretchen？　　Does　she　want　to　be　handed　up　to

posterities　a　little　peacock　along　with　the　other　little　birds？〃



Greta；　who　had　continued　staring　at　the　painter；　said：　〃Ofcourse

Iwanttobe。〃



〃Prrt！〃　said　Herr　Paul；　looking　at　Miss　Naylor。　　The　little　lady

indeed　opened　her　mouth　wide；　but　all　that　came　forth　was　a　tiny

squeak；　as　sometimes　happens　when　one　is　anxious　to　say　something；

and　has　not　arranged　beforehand　what　it　shall　be。



The　affair　seemed　ended；　Harz　heaved　a　sigh　of　satisfaction。　　But

Herr　Paul　had　still　a　card　to　play。



〃There　is　your　Aunt；〃　he　said；　〃there　are　things　to　be　considered

one　must　certainly　inquireso；　we　shall　see。〃　　Kissing　Greta　loudly

on　both　cheeks；　he　went　towards　the　house。



〃What　makes　you　want　to　paint　us？〃　Christian　asked；　as　soon　as　he　was

gone。



〃I　think　it　very　wrong；〃　Miss　Naylor　blurted　out。



〃Why？〃　said　Harz；　frowning。



〃Greta　is　so　youngthere　are　lessonsit　is　such　a　waste　of　time！〃



His　eyebrows　twitched：　〃Ah！　You　think　so！〃



〃I　don't　see　why　it　is　a　waste　of　time；〃　said　Christian　quietly；

〃there　are　lots　of　hours　when　we　sit　here　and　do　nothing。〃



〃And　it　is　very　dull；〃　put　in　Greta；　with　a　pout。



〃You　are　rude；　Greta；〃　said　Miss　Naylor　in　a　little　rage；　pursing　her

lips；　and　taking　up　her　knitting。



〃I　think　it　seems　always　rude　to　speak　the　truth；〃　said　Greta。　　Miss

Naylor　looked　at　her　in　that　concentrated　manner　with　which　she　was

in　the　habit　of　expressing　displeasure。



But　at　this　moment　a　servant　came；　and　said　that　Mrs。　Decie　would　be

glad　to　see　Herr　Harz。　　The　painter　made　them　a　stiff　bow；　and

followed　the　servant　to　the　house。　　Miss　Naylor　and　the　two　girls

watched　his　progress　with　apprehensive　eyes；　it　was　clear　that　he　had

been　offended。



Crossing　the　veranda；　and　passing　through　an　open　window　hung　with

silk　curtains；　Hart　entered　a　cool　dark　room。　　This　was　Mrs。　Decie's

sanctum；　where　she　conducted　correspondence；　received　her　visitors；

read　the　latest　literature；　and　sometimes；　when　she　had　bad

headaches；　lay　for　hours　on　the　sofa；　with　a　fan；　and　her　eyes

closed。　　There　was　a　scent　of　sandalwood；　a　suggestion　of　the　East；　a

kind　of　mystery；　in　here；　as　if　things　like　chairs　and　tables　were

not　really　what　they　seemed；　but　something　much　less　commonplace。



The　visitor　looked　twice；　to　be　quite　sure　of　anything；　there　were

many　plants；　bead　curtains；　and　a　deal　of　silverwork　and　china。



Mrs。　Decie　came　forward　in　the　slightly　rustling　silk　whichwhether

in　or　out　of　fashionalways　accompanied　her。　　A　tall　woman；　over

fifty；　she　moved　as　if　she　had　been　tied　together　at　the　knees。　　Her

face　was　long；　with　broad　brows；　from　which　her　sandy…grey　hair　was

severely　waved　back；　she　had　pale　eyes；　and　a　perpetual；　pale；

enigmatic　smile。　　Her　complexion　had　been　ruined　by　long　residence　in

India；　and　might　unkindly　have　been　called　fawn…coloured。　　She　came

close　to　Harz；　keeping　her　eyes　on　his；　with　her　head　bent　slightly

forward。



〃We　are　so　pleased　to　know　you；〃　she　said；　speaking　in　a　voice　which

had　lost　all　ring。　　〃It　is　charming　to　find　some　one　in　these　parts

who　can　help　us　to　remember　that　there　is　such　a　thing　as　Art。　　We

had　Mr。　C…　here　last　autumn；　such　a　charming　fellow。　　He　was　so

interested　in　the　native　customs　and　dresses。　　You　are　a　subject

painter；　too；　I　think？　　Won't　you　sit　down？〃



She　went　on　for　some　time；　introducing　painters'　names；　asking

questions；　skating　round　the　edge　of　what　was　personal。　　And　the

young　man　stood　before　her　with　a　curious　little　smile　fixed　on　his

lips。　　'She　wants　to　know　whether　I'm　worth　powder　and　shot；'　he

thought。



〃You　wish　to　paint　my　nieces？〃　Mrs。　Decie　said　at　last；　leaning　back

on　her　settee。



〃I　wish　to　have　that　honour；〃　Harz　answered　with　a　bow。



〃And　what　sort　of　picture　did　you　think　of？〃



〃That；〃　said　Harz；　〃is　in　the　future。　　I　couldn't　tell　you。〃　　And　he

thought：　'Will　she　ask　me　if　I　get　my　tints　in　Paris；　like　the　woman

Tramper　told　me　of？'



The　perpetual　pale　smile　on　Mrs。　Decie's　face　seemed　to　invite　his

confidence；　yet　to　warn　him　that　his　words　would