"Oh bless my soul, it's hers--I forgot!" laughed Nick, failing in his
turn to answer the other's inquiry. "But you shall have another."
"Another? Are you going to do another?"
"This very morning. That is, I shall begin it. I've heard from her;
she's coming to sit--a short time hence."
Peter turned away a little at this, releasing himself, and, as if the
movement had been an effect of his host's words, looked at his watch
earnestly to dissipate that appearance. He fell back to consider the
work from further off. "The more you do her the better--she has all the
qualities of a great model. From that point of view it's a pity she has
another trade: she might make so good a thing of this one. But how
shall you do her again?" he asked ingenuously.
"Oh I can scarcely say; we'll arrange something; we'll talk it over.
It's extraordinary how well she enters into what one wants: she knows
more than one does one's self. She isn't, as you Frenchmen say, the
first comer. However, you know all about that, since you invented her,
didn't you? That's what she says; she's awfully sweet on you," Nick
kindly pursued. "What I ought to do is to try something as different as
possible from that thing; not the sibyl, the muse, the tremendous
creature, but the charming woman, the person one knows, differently
arranged as she appears _en ville_, she calls it. I'll do something
really serious and send it to you out there with my respects. It will
remind you of home and perhaps a little even of me. If she knows it's
for you she'll throw herself into it in the right spirit. Leave it to
us, my dear fellow; we'll turn out something splendid."
"It's jolly to hear you, but I shall send you a cheque," said Peter very
stoutly.
"I suppose it's all right in your position, but you're too proud," his
kinsman answered.
"What do you mean by my position?"
"Your exaltation, your high connexion with the country, your treating
with sovereign powers as the representative of a sovereign power. Isn't
that what they call 'em?"
Peter, who had turned round again, listened to this with his eyes fixed
on Nick's face while he once more drew forth his watch. "Brute!" he
exclaimed familiarly, at the same time dropping his eyes on the watch.
"When did you say you expect your sitter?"
"Oh we've plenty of time; don't be afraid of letting me see you agitated
by her presence."
"Brute!" Peter again ejaculated.
This friendly personal note cleared the air, made their communication
closer. "Stay with me and talk to me," said Nick; "I daresay it's good
for me. It may be the last time I shall see you without having before
anything else to koo-too."
"Beast!" his kinsman once more, and a little helplessly, threw off;
though next going on: "Haven't you something more to show me then--some
other fruit of your genius?"
"Must I bribe you by setting my sign-boards in a row? You know what I've
done; by which I mean of course you know what I haven't. My genius, as
you're so good as to call it, has hitherto been dreadfully sterile. I've
had no time, no opportunity, no continuity. I must go and sit down in a
corner and learn my alphabet. That thing isn't good; what I shall do for
you won't be good. Don't protest, my dear fellow; nothing will be fit to
look at for a long time." After which poor Nick wound up: "And think of
my ridiculous age! As the good people say (or don't they say it?), it's
a rum go. It won't be amusing."
"Ah you're so clever you'll get on fast," Peter returned, trying to
think how he could most richly defy the injunction not to protest.
"I mean it won't be amusing for others," said Nick, unperturbed by this
levity. "They want results, and small blame to them."
"Well, whatever you do, don't talk like Mr. Gabriel Nash," Peter went
on. "Sometimes I think you're just going to."
Nick stared a moment. "Ah he never would have said _that_ 'They want
results, the damned asses'--that would have been more in his key."
"It's the difference of a _nuance_! And are you extraordinarily happy?"
Peter added as his host now obliged him by arranging half-a-dozen
canvases so that he could look at them.
"Not so much so, doubtless, as the artistic life ought to make one:
because all one's people are not so infatuated as one's electors. But
little by little I'm learning the charm of pig-headedness."
"Your mother's very bad," Peter allowed--"I lunched with her day before
yesterday."
"Yes, I know, I know"--Nick had such reason to know; "but it's too late,
too late. I must just peg away here and not mind. I've after all a great
advantage in my life."