“I should not call her that,” returns the painter sadly. “She has been all condescension and kindness to me; she has permitted me to take her beautiful face and put it on my canvas, to give me a chance for fame and immortality.”
“Ah! she has granted you sittings here?”
“Yes, with her duenna present.”
“Then arrange an interview for me this afternoon here.”
“It would do you no good. She would not come without attendants. Do not think that Hermoine de Alva will forget any point of etiquette, even though she adores you—of which you seem to be very confident.”
“But I must arrange a meeting. I’ll kill two birds with one stone. She will know the words of the night. From her I can obtain them. She will come to me, I know,” says Guy very confidently. “You can gain admission to her as the under-secretary of Alva. Do so to-day. Give her this ring;” he takes the beautiful ruby from his finger and puts it into the painter’s hand.
“Mon Dieu! You have exchanged rings—did kisses go with them?” laughs Oliver; and as a flaming blush appears upon Guy’s face, he mutters: “Parbleu! I believe they have. Talk about Italian passion! It is as ice to you wonderful English.” Getting no answer from Chester he continues: “I can arrange an interview to-day, [[64]]but it cannot be here. The duenna would stand in the path of any tête-à-tête between you. The only way I can think of private word for you with your love, you fortunate young man—you unfortunate young man—is at the house of the man I hope one day to call ‘papa.’ ”
“The burgomaster, Niklaas Bodé Volcker?” exclaims Guy.
“Yes. On the plea of rare bargains in silks that have been slightly damaged by the flood Doña Hermoine can bring her duenna into the town. At the merchant’s you can speak privately with Doña de Alva.”
“But the duenna—the infernal duenna?” growls Chester.