"What is it, then?" said he.
"In two words, then, it is this: A young foreign painter of great talent, but who is absolutely unknown here, has married my first cousin, who was like a sister to me, who grew up at our home, whom I wish you to believe that I respect as much as I love. An unfortunate lawsuit against my aunt, a suit which I may be said to have instigated and gained, much to my regret, by the abuse of a procuration, which my lawyers made use of without my knowledge, has caused a great deal of coolness between my cousin and myself, at least on her part; for, not knowing the whole truth, she believes my conduct to have been frightfully grasping. The amount I gained by this suit is very little for me, but it would be a great help to my cousin and her husband, who I admit to you are poor. On the other hand, as we never see each other any more, and as I know what a proud, sensitive nature the young woman has, it is absolutely impossible for me to restore to her what I have gained in spite of my wishes. I have then thought of a means which will conciliate everything, if you will only be so extremely obliging as to come to my aid. This young painter has exposed an oil-painting and two water-colours which show a great and incontestable talent; but his name is unknown. I wish, then, that you should buy the pictures as though for yourself, and furthermore, that you command under your own name a set of drawings from different works of Goethe, Schiller, Shakespeare, and Scott, for the sum of fifty thousand francs. You see it is an indirect manner, not of giving back the money that cursed lawsuit gained for me (for that is impossible), but at least of being of some use to my cousin and her husband, whom fortunate circumstances and certainty of work will surely place in the position he merits."
In keeping with his imperturbable nature, Lord Falmouth never manifested the least surprise, neither did he make the slightest objection, but, in the most amiable way, promised to do what I had requested him, and we agreed to go the next day to the gallery to see Frank's pictures.
More than this, he promised that he would immediately recommend the artist to five or six of his friends, who were great connoisseurs, and who would very soon be able to elevate Frank from his obscure position, if he really possessed the talent that I gave him credit for. I went then the next day to the Museum with Lord Falmouth. He had formerly been very fond of pictures himself, but, being bored with everything, was quite indifferent to them now. He was struck, however, with the indisputable talent which was so suddenly revealed in Frank's works; he admired above all the painting of Claire and Egmont, criticised it with marvellous appreciation, and admitted that, though he had distrusted my enthusiasm, he was obliged to recognise in it the work of a great painter.
Lord Falmouth was to go to see Frank the next evening, having written him a note that morning to find out if he could be received. Under the pretext of taking Lord Falmouth the money I destined for these purchases, I called on him, urged to do so by my curiosity to know Frank's answer. It was very simple, but very dignified, and neither full of that pretended modesty, that obsequious humility, which, too often, ruin the finest minds.
"If you will come and take supper with me," said I to Lord Falmouth, as I was leaving the salon, "after your visit to our great artist, I will wait for you. But not later than six o'clock in the morning," I added, laughingly.
"I will be at your house before midnight," he replied, "however extraordinary that may seem to you. The fact is, that for the last five or six days I have not been playing any more; I am in constant good luck, and that is a bore. Play for its own sake seems to me decidedly stupid. I have not the courage to play high enough to ruin myself, and, considered simply as an amusement, the loss and gain are not worth the trouble."
"And at what o'clock do you go to see Frank?"
"I am going at nine o'clock, for that is what he asks me to do in his reply to my letter. By the way, you will perhaps think me peculiar or ridiculous," added Lord Falmouth; "but I always notice the way a letter is written, and even how it is folded, for I gain from these small indications very sure knowledge as to the savoir-vivre of the writer, and on this score our young painter appears to be a perfect gentleman."
I left Lord Falmouth.