the fortunes of oliver horn-第63节
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ers； and even scientists； when they have anything to sell； go where there is somebody to buy； why shouldn't an artist？〃
〃Just like a fakir peddling cheap jewelry；〃 said Stedman； in a low voice； sending a cloud of smoke to the ceiling。
〃Or a bunco…man trading watches with a farmer；〃 remarked Jack Bedford。 〃What do you say； My Lord Tom…Noddy〃and he slapped Oliver on the back。 The sobriquet was one of Jack's pet names for Oliverall the Kennedy Square people were more or less aristocrats to Jack Bedford； the sign…painter all except Oliver。
〃I think Waller's about half…right； Jack。 As far as Ridgway's work goes； you know and I know that there isn't one man or woman out of a hundred among his brother…in…law's friends who knows whether it's good or badthat's the pity of it。 If it's bad and they buy it； that's their fault for not knowing any better； not Ridgway's fault for doing the best he knows how。 By silk stockings and pumps I suppose Waller means that Ridgway dressed himself like a gentleman； had his hair cut； and paid some attention to his finger…nails。 That's why they were glad to see him。 The day has gone by when a painter must affect a bob…tailed velveteen jacket； long hair； and a slouch hat to help him paint； just as the day has gone by when an artist is not an honored guest in any gentleman's house in town。〃
〃Bravo； Tom…Noddy！〃 shouted Jack and Fred in a breath。 〃Drink； you dear old pressed brick。 Put your nose into this！〃 and Fred held a mug of beer to Oliver's lips。
Oliver laid down his sheaf of brushesburied his nose in the cool rim of the stone mug； the only beverage the club permitted； and was about to continue his talk； when his eye rested on Bianchi； who was standing in the open door； his hand upraised so as to bespeak silence。
〃Hereyou beautiful； bald…headed old burgomaster！〃 shouted Oliver。 〃Get into your ruff right away。 Been waiting half an hour for you and〃
Bianchi put his fingers to his lips with a whispered hush； knit his brow； and pointed significantly behind him。 Every eye turned； and a breathless silence fell upon the group； followed by a scraping of chairs on the floor as each man sprang to his feet。
Bianchi's surprise had arrived！
CHAPTER XXI
〃THE WOMAN IN BLACK〃
In the doorway； immediately behind Bianchi and looking over the little man's head； stood a woman of perhaps forty years of age in full evening toilet。 About her head was wound a black lace scarf； and hanging from her beautiful shoulders； half…concealing a figure of marvellous symmetry； was a long black cloak； open at the throat； trimmed with fur； and lined with watermelon pink silk。 Tucked in her hair was a red japonica。 She was courtesying to the room with all the poise and graciousness of a prima donna saluting an audience。
Oliver sprang for his coat and was about to cram his arms into the sleeves； when she cried：
〃Oh； please don't！ I wish I could wear a coat myself； so that I could take it off and paint。 Oh！ the smell of the lovely pipes！ It's heavenly； and it's so like home。 Really；〃 and she looked about her； 〃this is the only place I have seen in America that I can breathe in。 I've heard of you all winter and I so wanted to come。 I would not give dear Bianchi any rest till he brought me。 Oh！ I'm so glad to be here。〃
Oliver and the others were still standing； looking in amazement at the new…corner。 One of the unwritten laws of the club was that no woman should ever enter its doors； a law that until this moment had never been broken。
While she was speaking Bianchi stepped back； and took the tips of the woman's fingers within his own。 When she had finished he thrust out one foot and； with the bow of an impresario introducing a new songstress； said：
〃Gentlemen of the Stone Mugs； I have the honor of presenting you to the Countess Kovalski。〃
Again the woman courtesied； sweeping the floor with her black velvet skirt； broke out into a laugh； handed her cloak and scarf to Bianchi； who threw them over the shoulders of the lay figure； and moved toward the table； Fred； as host； drawing out a chair for her。
〃Oh！what lovely beginnings〃 she continued； examining the sketches with her lorgnette； after the members had made their salutations； 〃Let me make one。 I studied two years with Achenbach。 You did not know that Bianchi； did you？ There are so many things you do not know； you lovely man。〃 She was as much at home as if she had been there every evening of her life。
Still； with the same joyous self…contained air she settled herself in Fred's proffered chair； picked up one of Jack's brushes； reached over his shoulder； and with a 〃please…hold…still； thank you；〃 scooped up a little yellow ochre from his palette； and unloaded it on a corner of a tile。 Then； stripping off her bracelets； she piled them in a heap before her； selected a Greek coin dangling from the end of one of them； propped it up on the table and began to paint； the men； all of whom were too astonished to resume their work； crowding about her； watching the play of her brush； a brush so masterful in its technique that before the picture was finished the room broke out in unrestrained applause。
During all this time she was talking in German to Crug； or in French to Waller； only stopping to light a fresh cigarette which she took from a jewelled case and laid beside her。 She could； no doubt； have as easily lapsed into Russian； Choctaw； or Chinese had there been any such strange people about。
When the men had resumed their customary seats and the room had once more settled to workit had only been a question of sex that had destroyed the equilibrium； a question no longer of value now that the fair intruder could really PAINTOliver bent over her and said in his most gallant manner：
〃If the Countess Kovalski will be gracious enough to excuse Bianchi （he had never left her elbow） I will try and make a burgomaster of him。 Perhaps you will help me tie this around his neck；〃 and he held out the white ruff。 He had put on his coat despite her protest。
〃What； dear Bianchi in a ruff！ Oh！ how perfectly charming！ That's really just what he looks like。 I've always told him that Rembrandt ought to have seen him。 Come； you sweet man； hold up your beautiful Dutch face。〃
As she spoke she caught the ruff from Oliver's hand and stretched out her bare arms toward Blanch。
〃No； I'm not going to pose now；〃 protested the Pole； pushing back her hands。 〃You can get me any time。 Take the Countess； Horn。 She'd make a stunner。〃
〃Yes！ Yes！ Please do；〃 she laughed； springing from her seat and clapping her hands with all the gayety and joyousness of a child over some expected pleasure。
Oliver hesitated for an instant； as he looked down into her eyes； wondering whether his brush could do justice to their depth。 Then he glanced at her supple figure and white skin in contrast to the black velvet； its edge softened by the fall of lace； the dominant； insistent note of the red japonica in her blue… black hair； the flesh tones brilliant under the gas…jets。 The color scheme was exactly what he had been looking for all winterblack； white； and a touch of red。
〃I have never been so honored； Madame。 Nothing could give me greater pleasure；〃 he answered； with a dry smile。 〃May I escort your ladyship to the platform？〃 And he held out his hand and conducted her to the stand facing the big easel。
Then there followed a scene such as many of the Stone Mugs had not shared in since they left the Latin Quarter。
The Countess stood erect on the raised platform； with head up and slightly turned； the full glare of the gas…jets falling upon her neck and throat； made all the more brilliant by reason of the dark green walls of Fred's studio； which formed the background behind her。 One arm was partly raised； a lighted cigarette between her fingers； the other was lost in the folds of the velvet gown。 She posed as naturally and as easily as if she had done nothing else all her life； and with a certain bravado and swing that enchanted everybody in the room。
One talent demanded of the artist members of the club when they sought admission； and insisted upon by the Committee； was the ability； possessed in a marked degree by Oliver； of making a rapid； telling sketch from life； and at night。 So expert had most of the members become that many of their pictures made under the gas…light were as correct in their color…values as those done in the day…time。 In this Oliver was past…master。 Most of his own work had to be done under artificial light during the long years of his struggle。
The menthey were again on their feetcrowded closer； forming a circle about the easel。 They saw that the subject appealed to Oliver； and they knew how much better he could paint when his heart was in his work。 His picture of Margaret Grant in the Tam… o'…Shanter cap； the best portrait at the last exhibition； had proved that。
Oliver saw the interest shown in his work and put himself on his mettle。 He felt that not only his own reputation； but the honor of the Stone Mugs； was at stake。 He felt； too； a certain pride and confidence in the sureness of his toucha touch that the woman he loved believed inone she had really taught him herself； He began by blocking in with a bit of charcoal the salien
