In Paradise: A Novel. Vol. I.

by Paul Heyse

In the mean while Stephanopulos had turned round and recognized Felix, and had hastened to introduce him to the lady. Her keen, brown eyes rested with evident pleasure upon the stately figure of the young man; she asked him how long he had enjoyed the good-fortune to be the pupil of such an artist, and wished to see some of his own productions, a favor which Felix politely but firmly refused to grant.

"Do you fully realize," said she, in her deep, mellow voice, "what an enviable being you are? You unite the aristocracy of blood and talent, and the fact that you have decided in favor of sculpture sets the crown to your happiness. What is life, what is all other happiness in life, but an endless series of excitements? What are all other arts but oil to the fire, fuel for the passionate soul that yearns to free itself from the trammels of the world, and seeks repose in the ideal, and, instead of repose, finds merely more inspired emotions? I express myself very awkwardly--you must supply what I mean. But, really, now, in regard to sculpture--is it not, if only because of its material, peculiarly suggestive of moderation and repose, even in the liveliest plays of lines and forms? Take, for instance, that Bacchante over there--what person, no matter how light of foot and fond of dancing, feels when he looks at it the time of the music in the tips of his toes, as if he heard a dance played? Even the storm and whirl of the maddest reel is controlled by the law of beauty, much as one conceives of the idea of the unfettered air in the spirit of the Creator of the universe. And then this unutterably grand group of the first human beings! All disquiet and trouble, all the fates that were reserved for mankind, repose here as if in the germ--in the bud. In the presence of this wonderful work, one forgets all petty wishes and weaknesses! But why haven't you finished the head of your Eve, honored master?"

A sudden blush suffused Jansen's face as he replied that he had not quite made up his mind in regard to the type of face. He was, according to his wont, monosyllabic and almost awkward in the presence of this eloquent woman. But it struck Felix that his face did not darken with suppressed disgust, as was usually the case when he received tiresome visitors, but that he preserved the same patient, smiling mien during the wise utterances of the professor and the rambling scintillations of the lady. They had not met for two days. Felix had no suspicion of what had happened in the mean time that caused his friend's eyes to sparkle with such unwonted mildness and animation.

Meanwhile the countess was engaged in inspecting the statues that stood about the studio. The professor had previously expressed the opinion that the greater the genius of the man the less he was capable of duly estimating his own labors, and that for that reason he ought to have his own works explained to him; and, in accordance with this sentiment, he now relieved Jansen of the trouble of acting as cicerone in his own workshop. The casts of separate limbs in dimensions larger than life seemed to interest the lady, and the beautifully-shaped breast of a young girl afforded the professor an opportunity to launch into a long discourse on the form of the Venus of Milo as compared with that of the Venus of Medici.

Suddenly the lady turned to a little female figure which stood, still in clay, on the modeling-board near the window, and which must have been a work of the last few days; for even Felix had never seen it before. Although the head was not larger than a child's fist, and the execution was, as yet, only very sketchy, it was easy to see at the first glance that Julie's picture had floated before the eyes of the sculptor. The beautiful figure leaned gently against the back of a simple fauteuil, her right arm, from which the sleeve was pushed back, resting on the arm of the chair, her cheek pressed against her hand, while her left arm hung listlessly down so that the long, exquisitely-formed fingers just touched the head of a dog that was sleeping by her side. The eyes were half closed, just as Julie's generally were; and, quickly as the features had been designed, an expression of thoughtful attention, of earnest and loving sympathy, was clearly conveyed in the face.

In this position she had sat before him while he told her his unhappy story. Amid all the remembrances of the past his eyes had been enchained by the charm of the present, and with that strange, independent action of the artistic temperament, that capacity of the senses for observing closely while the soul smarts and bleeds, he had taken in every line of the beloved figure.

Then, when he had returned to his studio, where Felix did not make his appearance that day, and no one else broke his solitude, he had begun, at first with a careless hand, to form from a piece of clay the picture that never left him, until at length he had grown serious over his pastime, and had produced in an incredibly short time the whole charming figure. A spirit of life, a natural grace, breathed through the whole work, and was still further heightened by its diminutive proportions, reminding one of the fairy-tale about the pygmy maiden who was carried about by her happy lover in a casket.

The æsthetic professor took advantage of the occasion to hold forth concerning sitting statues from the time of the Agrippinas down to that of Marie Louise in Parma; about the importance of portraits in general, and about other profound subjects of like nature. As for Stephanopulos, he was sincerely carried away by the charm of the figure, and expressed his admiration in enthusiastic terms.

The countess remained silent for a considerable time. Enthusiastically as she had expressed herself concerning Jansen's other works; she evidently found it hard to conquer a certain jealousy in regard to this beautiful woman.

"How often did the lady sit to you?" she asked, at length.