"In that case, Madam, you will be compelled to permit me to take a copy of it. But do not be uneasy—I shall not have occasion to trouble your solitude for any length of time; one sketch—one sitting will suffice."
The widow agreed to this arrangement; she only insisted that the artist should come back the following day. She wanted him to set to work on the instant, so great was her longing to see the mausoleum erected. The sculptor, however, remarked that he had another work to finish first. This difficulty she sought to overcome by means of money.
"Impossible," replied the artist, "I have given my word; but do not distress yourself; I will apply to it so diligently, that the monument shall be finished in as short a time as any other sculptor would require, who could apply himself to it forthwith."
"You see my distress," said the widow; "you can make allowance for my impatience. Be speedy, then, and above all, be lavish of magnificence. Spare no expense; only let me have a masterpiece."
Several letters echoed these injunctions, during the few days immediately following the interview.
At the expiration of three months the artist called again. He found the widow still in weeds, but a little less pallid, and a little more coquettishly dressed in her mourning garb.
"Madam," said he, "I am entirely at your service."
"Ah! at last; this is fortunate," replied the widow, with a gracious smile.
"I have made my design, but I still want one sitting, for the likeness. Will you permit me to go into your bed-room?"
"Into my bed-room? For what?"