The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-04-26 00:00:00

Transit:led from the French.

CHAPTER XVII.
VARGITERITE% father had been agreeably surprised
to learn from Binos that Monsieur Blanchelaine's
news was true. There were certainly not two
Bianca Astrodis in Paris, and the only person of
that name had now quitted it for the other world, of
which there could be no doubt after the evidence of
disinterested persons. Be rejoiced in his inmost
heart, this excellent Paulet. He was mentally de-
bating as to whether he could slip out of his en-
-gagements with Blanchelaine. What need was
there to pay for a copy of the certificate of death
now he knew where he could procure it!'
But his joy was no longer unmixed SillOC he four d
that the deceased left a sister. Who was the father
of this sister? That was the point upon which
Monsieur Paulet must obtain information.
" Pia's name is also Astrodi," said Freneuse; " it
was their mother's."
"Then all will go well," thought the natural
heir of the late Francis Bozer. "My brother never
spoke of a second daughter, so she cannot be his,
and as he lived just a day longer than Bianca, this,
model can have no right to his property."
"My dear father," said Mademoiselle Marguerite
smiling, "we did not come to see Monsieur Freneuse
in order to establish the relationship of these
Astrodis ; and, since you forget, I must remind him
that he promised to show us all the curiosities of his
studio, and I beg he will do so, for as yet I have
• only seen an Italian in a red petticoat stretched
out upon a green sofa."
Freneuse felt a powerful attraction towards
Mademoiselle Paulet, and was overjoyed to receive.
a visit from her; but the tone she adopted in speak-
ing of Pia fairly shocked him.
There was a bitterness, almost a cruelty, in her
-sarcastic manner of treating a poor grl who merited
Sympathy rather than disdain.
The artist could not refrain from making a
mental comparison which was not at all in favour of
the beautiful heiress.
Still, she was really so handsome that he was half
inclined to forgive her faults.
"In truth, mademoiselle," said he, making a great
'effort to meet her advances graciously, I fear I
must have boasted in speaking of the curiosities of
my studio. I was so anxious to see you here that I
allowed myself to talk of wonders which unfortu-
nately do not exist. I have a few a etches, studies,
and so on, some antiquities from the country around
Rome . . . some ends of ancient tapestry, some
old pieces of inlaid furniture rather dilapidated.
Your father possesses many far more interesting:"
"Bat your picture., my dear sir," cried Monsieur
Paulet; "we have come on purpose to admire
them."
"They do not merit much admiration," modestly
replied Freneuse; "but such as they are I shall be
happy to show you them. Unfortunately, Ido not
keep many by me, for the very good reason that I
sell them."
"I congratulate you, sir' for you sell them well," ,
cried M. Paulet. "You have a fortune at your
fingers' ends, and painting is the noblest of profes•
1310IIS. If I had had a son, I would have made him
an artist."
" Phew !" ejaculated Bir os, "but it costs money.
The colours are ruinous. Look at me, sir. I spend
my whole substance upon burnt sienna and ultra-
marine ! "
"Ah, indeed! you are also a painter?"
"I flatter myself so. I have been since my
tenderest childhood. lam a born artist; therefore
I have never had a master. lam Nature's own
pupil. Paul, my good friend, present me."
" Jacques Binos, a schoal fellow and friend," said
Freneuse, who would have given a great deal to be
rid of the inconvenient dauber.
"Delighted to make your acquaintance," re-
sponded Monsieur Paulet gravely.
"Do you paint portraits ?"
",Portraits, everything— excepting signs; and
even if strongly urged by any unfortunate trader, I
might consent to dishonour my brush by those.
But were I called upon to immortalise the features
of mademoiselle, your daughter, by recording them
on canvas, I am certain I should produce a real
masterpiece."
This grotesque compliment -exasperated Paul,
but did not appear to displease Mademoiselle Mar-
guerite, who noticed it by a gracious smile.
"There remains at least one picture," she said,
turning to Freneuse; " the one you are painting for
the Salon. May we be permitted to look at it F"
"Most certainly," replied the artist, "and I
assure you, mademoiselle, that if it has the good
fortune to please you, I shall care very little whether
or not the hanging committee accept it."
Father and daughter both placed themselves in
front of the picture, and the former immediately
exclaimed:
"Ah, ha! There is the young :Italian who has
lost her sister. You may congratulate yourself, my
dear sir, upon having caught the likeness. It is
striking."
"I consider it flattering," said Mademoiselle
Paulet. "She has fine eyes, but the lower part of
the.face wants delicacy. If I ventured to give an
opinion, I should add that the race which furnishes
sitters and models is greatly over-rated."
"That is just what I am always telling Fre-
neuse," i put n the facetious Binos. "Men insist on
bringing over these Romans, who are all ready-made
for exportation, and keep going on in the same set
groove. Now, if Reubens had wanted to paint a
goatherd at the tomb of Cecilia Metella, he would
simply have chosen a grand Flemish beauty, and the
citadel of Ant werp would have figured as the tomb.
Ah, my dear Paul, if mademoiselle would consent
to sit instead of Pia, you would produce something
worth
"calling a painting—something original
grand.
"But," said the beautiful Marguerite, "supposing
I consented, Monsieur Freneuse would not consent,
I fear, to efface the figure of this girl from his
picture. He chose her because she pleased his
taste."

• Freneuse felt that upon his answer depended the.
success of a scheme which had become very im-
portant to him.
Mademoiselle Paulet's eyes, fixed upon his face,
seemed to say:
"If you care to marry me, you will not hesitate
to sacrifice one canvas and one Italian model."
Not that she had the least intention of lending her-
self in person to illustrate the ridiculous theories pro-
mulgated t y Binos ; she had far too much sense to
pose as a shepherdess of the Abruzzi; but she
desired to put to the test the man who might
become her future husband.
It was not his molel that displeased her as a
model; it was the girl Pia, whose undeniable beauty
was a thorough contrast to her own,
"You are unreasonable," said M. Paulet. "Our
friend Freneuse must not think of missing the
exhibition to humour your caprices."
"If Mademoiselle l'aulet will allow me to paint
her portrait I shall be one of the happiest of men,"
iid Freneuse, hoping by this evasive proposal to
extricate himself from a aifficulty.
"And I should certainly be one of the happiest of
women," replied the lofty Marguerite, drily.; `f 1.11
I should for ever reproach myself for depriving this
Young person of the immortality M. Freneuse is
about to confer upon her?
"On my honour, mademoiselle, I do not pretend
to hope my works will survive me, any more than
Pia expects her features to be studied by posterity.
The p i
ror girl works for her living, and, n fact, so
do I, since I sell my pictures. But I love my art
passlona-ely ; and if you will consent to sit, I am
certain I can produce a beautiful portrait."
"What we poor artists who labour to earn our
bread generally n iss is inspiration. To get money
we are forced to choose the subjects which best suit
the pullic—the buyers. Italian scenes take well; I
hax e painted a young Roman girl herding goats just
in the same way as I should have painted a Trans-
tewrine kneeling to a Madonna. But could I select
the heau-ideal of my dreams, ah ! then inspiration
would come—then, indeed, I should be painting for
myself, for my art!"
" And for me also, I hope," added Mademoiselle
Paulet, with a smile.
This declaration, disguised under love of his pro-
fession, restored her serenity.
" I warn you that if I decided to sit, I should not
leave you possession of my portrait."
I Should be enchanted to make you a present of
it," said Freneuse, warmly; "but I could not
Premise not to reserve a copy."
, "1 would not oppose you there. The thing is
whether
I will sit or not. My father declares that
Y°ll uearly will do wrong to abandon a picture that is
,
the
nipleted.7,
But
same t• can finish that, and do your portrait at
where theirne'" said Freneuse, who saw well enough
" That is to,say
• Y°llng lady was leading
your studio yOu would divide your time and
You would have invu
eetween d Mademoiselle Pia.
be placed in one cornerea,maseenlsdan.l
Should take it in t Tinhethegooaththeerr;danw.douwlde
sir, far • turn
, your kind intenti
nto sit. lam much obliged,
me to refuse participatingolins
iis
ultnizownsillarrpanermgei!
meat."
This was said in so pointed a tone that the artist
felt the hot blood rush to his face.
"I 'suggest nothing of the kind, mademoiselle,"
replied he, quietly. "I am perfectly aware that
You could not give me sittings here, as many per-
sons come whom you would not desire to meet; but
if Monsieur Paulet would authorise me to work at
Your house----"
"What is that" cried the gentleman. "Of
course, with the greatest pleasure."
"You do not seem to consider, my dear father,
that the light in your study is unsuitable to paint
by. And, besides, if I have my portrait painted I
Mould like to see it began to-morrow, and Monsieur
Freneuse forgets that he said he should take this
girl to the cemetery where her sister is buried. Of
course, if he hold such promise sacred, I should not
dream of causing him to break it !"
She had gone too far, and Freneuse, fully roused,
flowed with resentment :

"I should indeed bs heartless if oke it," he
said, fixing his eyes upon her sternly. "I am, and
always shall be, ready to assist the weak and
oppressed."
" Very generous," replied the young lady, ironi-
cally. ",Generosity sometimes costs dear."
"I do not study the cost," retorted the artist.
" Marguerite, you have said too much," cried M.
Paulet. "Remember that M. Freneuse is free to
dispose of his time as he pleases. Now in order to
suit you both I propose--"
But this attempt at pacification was cut short by
a violent ring at the bell.
Blues, since the commencement of the skirmish,
had contented himself with looking on without
interfering. He fully sided with Mademoiselle
Paulet, whom he examined with the eye of a
connoisseur' and inwardly pronounced to be superb,
magnificent in her attitude of leonine anger. He
made up his mind to lecture Freneuse later on, and
show him the folly of breaking with a lovely woman
and a rich bourgeois for the sake of a little model's
handsome eyes.. _ _ _

But he eagerly seized the opportunity of cutting
short the dispute by opening the door before his
friend hid given him permission. It was a gentle-
man who had rung; a gentleman freshly shaved,
clothed in irreproachable black broad-cloth, relieved
by a spotless white necktie. •
Billies, whose head was still full of the omnibus
mystery, took him for an inspector of police, and
after bowing low he would have begun a discourse
relative to judicial inquiries.
"I beg your pardon," interrupted the new-comer,
"but I have just arrived from the country to see M.
Paulet. . . . I was directed to seek him at the
address of Monsieur Paul Freneuse, Place Pigalle,
and I believe-"

"I am here," cried M. Paulet, hastening towards
the door.

" Sir,' resumed the visitor, "I have the honour to
salute you. lam Monsieur Drugeon, notary, and I
come from Amelie-les-Bains, to bring you—"
"My brother's will. I know—l know. I left
word they were to send for me, and I am greatly
obliged to you for following me yourself. My dear
Freneuse, I am sure you will excuse me. I have
been awaiting this gentleman with some anxiety—
to settle a family matter. I am impatient to confer
with him, and must beg you to allow us to take
leave."

"It is very natural," said the artist, bowing.
"But we will return, and I hope to arrange every-
thing to your satisfaction and to ours. This first
visit counts for nothing. Come, Marguerite," he
added, speaking somewhat excitedly.
Marguerite needed no second summons. She
passed out of the room without looking at Freneuse,
but honouring Binos with a gracious smile which
rendered him exceedingly proud.
The notary was already half way downstairs.
He had not come to Paris to see pictures or artists
—they did not in the least interest him.
Freneuse conducted the father and daughter
ceremoniously to the head of the stairs, restraining
with a meaning look the ardour of Binos, who wai
inclined to accompany them much farther, and
returned with him to the studio.

"Well, Monsieur Drugeon," began M. Paulet,
taking the arm of the notary as they descended,
"you are going to show me the will I hope, for
your telegrams have given me but an insufficient
outl:ne ot its import. But never mind, you may
not be aware of having caused me needless alar,n.
Do you know it is not at all a pleasant thing to
lose a valuable property that is yours' by right ?
"What do you say, monsieur P. :Laid the other,
gently. "I did all I could to parly the blow. I
must beg you to believe that if it had depended
upon me you would not have been disinherited, and
lost this splendid fortune." _ _

"Oh, yes, yes, I know; and I owe you less
grudge for having failed, as Providence has accom-
plished for me what you did'. not."
"En what way
"You telegraphed some bad news to me, and I
have some good news to give you. My brother's
will is absolutely worthless."
"Sir, I beg your pardon. I have seen it, and, un-
fortunately, I assure you it is perfectly regular and
correct—dated—written throughout, and s'gned by
the hand of the testator, who even took the pre-
caution of having it perused by several persons, tell-
ing them that it expressed his last wishes. Nothing
is wanting to make it complete, and you will be
wrong in cherishing the hope."
"Nothing is wanting, I can quite believe; but it
is null and void; it falls through; caduc' as we
say," replied M. Paulet, accentuating the technical
phrase which Blanchelaine had that morning taught
him.

" Caduc," repeated the lawyer. "Do you know
the exact meaning of that term?"
" Parbleu ! it means that the person in question,
Bianca Astradi, sole heiress, died just one day before
my brother, consequently could not inherit from
him."

"Can you prove her decease ?"
"To-morrow. So you see all turns out for the
best."

The notary merely nodded; he did not appear
convinced.
"You will not feel doubtful when I show you
the copy of the register of her death."
"That is not it, sir," replied M. Drugeon, sadly.
"Bianca Astrodi was not the sole heiress. M.
Francis Dozer by his will left his fortune to his two
natural daughters, Biala' a and Pia. If one is dead,
the other comes in for the whole of the succession,
unless she died before your brother."
"Good heavens !" cried M. Paulet. "Then all
is lost, for she is living still, this Pig, or whatever
you call her. I have just seen her, the wretch !"
Marguerite was following close upon her father,
and heard all that passed.
"I lose the most," she murmured. "I wish atle
may die too, this odious creature, who has usurped
the heart of the man that I might love and the
for' lane that should belong to me."
(To be continued.)