The Fräulein could not help smiling, and, although she blushed, permitting this singular, unrestrained, formless admiration. "I confess," she said, "that I have been such a recluse for years, only busied with the care of an invalid, that I have quite fallen out of practice in listening to such flatteries and wearing the fitting expression when I hear them. And besides, in spite of hard and sad experience, I am still young and foolish enough not to take offense at the pleasure you seem to take in my personal appearance. But if you would only tell me--you spoke of a double motive."
"Thank you a thousand times, dear, dear Fräulein!" cried the painter, excitedly. "Every word you say confirms me in the opinion I formed at the first glance--that you would be as good and amiable in character as you were beautiful in face and figure. And you give me courage to come out at once with my other petition: I should be the happiest person under the sun, if I might paint your portrait.--Please don't be alarmed," she added, hurriedly. "The agony is brief--I am no torturer. If you have not more time to spare, I will paint you alla prima--at most three or four sittings--you shall not be able to complain of me. Of course I can't ask that you will let me have the picture; but you will allow me to have a little sketch for a study and a souvenir?--The great picture--"
"A large portrait, then?"
"Only a three-quarters length, but of course life-size. It would be a sin and a shame to put such a head and such a figure on a canvas the size of a tea-tray. But my dear, best Fräulein, tell me you will have the heavenly goodness to visit my studio--the street and number are on my card--and look at my things, and sit to me only if--if you yourself take pleasure in them; for I would not for anything have you think you were making a sacrifice for the benefit of a mere dauber."
"My dear Fräulein, I really do not know what--"
"Perhaps you haven't time at this moment? Perhaps you are an artist yourself? The careful way in which you studied the pictures in the Pinakothek--"
"Unfortunately I have not the smallest natural talent," answered the Fräulein, smiling; "but only a little taste and a strong yearning toward everything beautiful and artistic; and this is the reason why I have come to Munich--as I am quite alone in the world. It is still uncertain how long I shall stay here. But if I can really give you pleasure by doing so--I rely upon it, of course, that it shall be entirely a matter between ourselves if I sit to you. And in return, you shall initiate me into the secrets of your art, which to a lay observer must always remain closed, no matter of how good intentions he may be, unless he is given the right introduction."
"Brava! bravissima!" cried the delighted painter. "Heaven reward you a thousand times for your great kindness; and I will see to it that you shall not repent it. My dear, dear Fräulein, when you know me a little more intimately you will see that you have to do with an honest woman who has a grateful heart, and against whom no one of her friends can utter a reproach."
In the wildest delight she took her leave of the beautiful face--which, in spite of all this worship, had preserved a rather cool expression--and, as though she feared the promise might possibly be retracted on further reflection, she hurried from the room.
When she reached the street, she stood still for a moment, fairly out of breath, tied her loosened hat-strings more firmly under her chin, and gleefully rubbed her hands. "What eyes they'll make!" she said to herself. "How they will envy me! But then what makes them such shy, silly Philistines? It's true, to make such a conquest in a moment, one must not be a man, but just such an utterly harmless old maid as I!"