"Why, yes, mother, of course; but the Green vaults are here, and you were bound to see the Green vaults."
"I wouldn't have come, if I had known it was so far," said Mrs. Copley.
But she relished her supper, and was not nervous, and slept well; and Dolly was somewhat in hopes that Dresden was not a bad move after all. They had to wait, as she said, for letters, and for the sight of the glories that had attracted them hither. Several days passed by.
They passed in delights, for Dolly. Two mornings were spent in the great picture gallery. Mrs. Copley's desires and expectations having focussed upon the Green vaults, were hardly able to see anything else clearly; indeed, she declared that she did not think the wonderful Madonna was so very wonderful after all; no woman could stand upon clouds in that way, and as she was a woman, she did not see why the painter did not exhibit her in a possible situation; and those little angels at the foot of the picture—where was the other half of them supposed to be? she did not like half of anything. But Dolly dreamed in rapture, before this and many another wonder of art. Mrs. Copley made processions round the rooms constantly, drawing, of course, St. Leger with her; she could not be still. But Dolly would stop before a picture and be immoveable for half an hour, drinking in pleasure and feeding upon knowledge; and Rupert generally took post behind her and acted as body-guard. What he made of the show, I do not know. Dolly asked him how he liked it? He said, "first-rate."
"Well, what do you think of it, Rupert?" Dolly asked gaily.
"Well, I guess I don't just see into it," was the dubious answer. "If these are likenesses of folks, they ain't like my folks."
"Oh, but they are not likenesses; most of them are not."
"What are they, then? and what is the good of 'em, if they don't mean anything?"
"They are out of people's imagination; as the painter imagined such and such persons might have looked, in such situations."
"How the painter imagined they might have looked!" cried Rupert.