Helen replaced the portrait as she had found it, somewhat comforted by her companion's assurance and high praise of her husband's effort; then she turned to leave the room.
"I thank you, monsieur, for your courtesy," she said, holding out to him a hand that trembled visibly from inward excitement.
"Pray do not mention it, but come again, my child, whenever I can be of service to you. Au revoir," he responded kindly, as he accompanied her to the door and bowed her out.
Helen went home with a heavy heart. She was well-nigh discouraged with what she had heard and seen. She had long suspected, and she was now beginning to realize, that her husband's chief aim in life was personal entertainment and love of ease; that he was sadly lacking in force of character, practical application, and moral responsibility; caring more about being rated a jolly good fellow by his boon companions than for his duties as a husband and father, or for attaining fame in his profession.
Thus she spent a very unhappy day, haunted continually by that portrait, and brooding anxiously over what the future might hold for them; while, at the same time, she was both indignant and keenly wounded in view of John's improvidence, prodigality, and supreme selfishness, and of his apparent indifference to her peace of mind and the additional burdens he was constantly imposing upon her.
John returned that evening, in a most genial mood. He made light of his protracted absence and of Helen's anxiety on account of it, but offered no apologies for keeping her in suspense for so long. He briefly remarked that the party had concluded to extend their tour, and make more of an outing than they had at first planned. It had evidently been a very enjoyable one, although he did not go into detail at all, and when Helen inquired about the Duc de Mouvel's wonderful collection of paintings, he appeared somewhat confused, but said they were "grand, remarkable, and absolutely priceless!" then suddenly changed the subject.
Helen's suspicion that the party had never been inside the Château de Mouvel was confirmed by his manner; but she was too hurt and proud to question him further, and so did not pursue the subject. She thought it only right, however, to tell him of her visit to Monsieur Jacques, and what the artist had said about his talent, and the flattering possibilities before him, if he would conscientiously devote himself to his work. She referred to his disapproval of his present course, and the company he was keeping; whereupon John became exceedingly angry, in view of her "meddling," as he termed it; said Monsieur Jacques would do better to give more attention to his own affairs, and less to his; then, refusing to discuss the situation further, he abruptly left the room in a very sulky frame of mind.
Helen had debated with herself as to the advisability of telling him of her discovery of the portrait. She did not like to conceal anything from her husband. She felt that every such attempt only served to establish a more formidable barrier between them; but after the experience of to-night she thought it would be wiser not to refer to the matter—at least until later.
John evidently did some thinking on his own part that night, for he was more like his former self when he appeared at breakfast the next morning, and proceeded directly to the studio on leaving the house. He did better for a couple of months afterward, manifested more interest in his work, and finished a couple of pictures, which, through the influence of Monsieur Jacques, were hung at an exhibition and sold at fair prices, greatly to Helen's joy.
But instead of being inspired to even greater effort by this success, John seemed content to rest upon his honors, and soon began to lapse again into his former indolent ways, apparently indifferent to the fact that his money was almost gone, and poverty staring himself and his family in the face.