“Ah! On what, pray?”
“Oh—no doubt on beets or on rape-seed oil, as usual!”
Her husband, the Comte de Guilleroy, deputy from the Eure, made a special study of all questions of agricultural interest.
Perceiving in one corner a sketch that she did not recognize, the lady walked across the studio, asking, “What is that?”
“A pastel that I have just begun—the portrait of the Princesse de Ponteve.”
“You know,” said the lady gravely, “that if you go back to painting portraits of women I shall close your studio. I know only too well to what that sort of thing leads!”
“Oh, but I do not make twice a portrait of Any!” was the answer.
“I hope not, indeed!”
She examined the newly begun pastel sketch with the air of a woman that understands the technic of art. She stepped back, advanced, made a shade of her hand, sought the place where the best light fell on the sketch, and finally expressed her satisfaction.
“It is very good. You succeed admirably with pastel work.”