“Oh, no,” he said at last; “it would be very bad manners in me to judge you that way. I don’t know you.”
“But my father has complained to you,” said Mademoiselle Noémie.
“He shouldn’t go about saying such things to gentlemen! But you don’t believe it?”
“No,” said Newman gravely, “I don’t believe it.”
She looked at him again, gave a shrug and a smile, and then pointed to a small Italian picture, a Marriage of St. Catherine. “How should you like that?” she asked.
“It doesn’t please me,” said Newman. “The young lady in the yellow dress is not pretty.”
“Ah, you are a great connoisseur,” murmured Mademoiselle Noémie.
“In pictures? Oh, no; I know very little about them.”
“What do you say to that, then?” the young girl asked, indicating a superb Italian portrait of a lady. “I will do it for you on a smaller scale.”
“On a smaller scale? Why not as large as the original?”
Mademoiselle Noémie glanced at the glowing splendor of the Venetian masterpiece and gave a little toss of her head. “I don’t like that woman. She looks stupid.”
“I do like her,” said Newman. “Decidedly, I must have her, as large as life. And just as stupid as she is there.”
The young girl fixed her eyes on him again, and with her mocking smile, “It certainly ought to be easy for me to make her look stupid!” she said.
“What do you mean?” asked Newman, puzzled.
She gave another little shrug. “Seriously, then, you want that portrait—the golden hair, the purple satin, the pearl necklace, the two magnificent arms?”
“Oh, I want some other things, but I want that too.”
Mademoiselle Noémie turned away a moment, walked to the other side of the hall, and stood there, looking vaguely about her. At last she came back. “It must be charming to be able to order pictures at such a rate. Venetian portraits, as large as life! You go at it _en prince_. And you are going to travel about Europe that way?”
“You are very happy to have it. And you are perfectly free?”
“You have nothing to bother you—no family, no wife, no _fiancée?_”
“You are very happy,” said Mademoiselle Noémie, gravely.
“_Je le veux bien!_” said Newman, proving that he had learned more French than he admitted.
“And how long shall you stay in Paris?” the young girl went on.
“It is getting hot, and I must go to Switzerland.”