"That's the picture of its owner, only that the Baron does not wear a moustache now, not since he left the service. Do you know him, Monsieur?"
"Yes, I know him! Speaking of service, I once rendered him one which was of some account. Is he at the castle?"
"Yes, Monsieur, and his lady also."
"Ah! his wife, too. She was a Mademoiselle de Corandeuil, of Provence.
Is she pretty?"
"Pretty," said Mademoiselle Gobillot, pursing up her lips, "that depends upon tastes. If a person likes a face as white as a ghost, she is. And, then, she is so thin! It certainly can not be very difficult to have a slender waist when one is as thin as that."
"Not everybody can have rosy cheeks and a form like an enchantress," said the painter, in a low voice, as he looked at his model in a seductive manner.
"There are some people who think that Monsieur's sister is prettier than
Madame," observed Madame Gobillot.
"O mother! how can you say that?" exclaimed Reine with a disdainful air. "Mademoiselle Aline! A child of fifteen! She certainly is not wanting in color; her hair is such a blond, such a red, rather! It looks as if it were on fire."
"Do not say anything against red hair, I beg of you," said the artist, "it is an eminently artistic shade, which is very popular."
"With some it may be so, but with Christians! It seems to me that black hair—"