“It was not good, I could do it better another time, but I was so frightened.”
That was the wrong note. It jarred on Goethe’s stretched nerves. It was perhaps the reason why he felt her to be “geistlos.” She should have disappeared quietly and have been seen no more that night. But though it repelled him as an artist, as a man it warmed him, and turning to Hamilton he echoed his own word.
“Perfection! She is a masterpiece of the Arch Artist”—and so it stands recorded until art itself shall be forgotten.
That evening made Emma’s beauty and her Attitudes a matter of European fame. Those words were repeated until they spread through the capitals of the world. Even the English in Naples were forced to pride in their amazing countrywoman, though they would have none of her individually.
Such artists as Lady Diana Beauclerck and Mrs. Damer came to Naples simply to study her. The great Italian ladies began to make overtures. “Morals, yes; but such an unusual case! Such talents! If Goethe had so expressed himself, what person of any consequence could be left out of such a refined, an artistic society!”
So the loud world goes on its way and licks the feet of its masters.
CHAPTER XIII
THE PROCESS
But while those letters were speeding to Greville, Sir William, not unobservant that absence appeared to make the heart grow fonder, resolved to try the same prescription on his own account.
A visit to Rome was desirable and necessary in diplomatic interests, and a little diplomatic reflection might not be amiss for Emma. He had come to be so necessary a part of her daily life that it would be as well she should realize how much she owed to his presence—an experiment he would not have ventured earlier but felt might be well essayed now. He had proved on that celebrated evening that chaste indignation might be surmounted by the wish to shine, and it emboldened him.
They met a day or two later in the beautiful boudoir he had lately fitted for her with great mirrors entirely covering the wall opposite the Chinese-fashion semi-circular window to reflect and repeat the glorious sea and sky beyond. It might indeed have been a palace beneath the sea for light and shimmer, and she delighted to watch the lovely progress of the day from dawn to sunsetting and twilight and moonlight. She had caught the moon and every star in her own chamber, she would say, laughing.