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Updated: June 17, 2025
But I really know nothing about him. They were entering the upper room, and at sight of the large picture it contained, Lord Findon exclaimed: 'My goodness! what an ambitious thing! The three men gathered in front of the picture. Fenwick lingered nervously behind them. 'What do you call it? said Lord Findon, putting up his glasses.
To-morrow morning, he supposed, he should hear her step on the stairs, towards eight o'clock should hear it passing his door in going, and an hour later in coming back and should know that she had been to a little Ritualist church close by, where what Lady Findon called 'fooleries' went on, in the shape of 'daily celebrations' and 'vestments' and 'reservation. How lightly she stepped; what a hidden act it was; never spoken of, except once, between him and her!
Immediately after his return to London from Versailles he had received a stern letter from Lord Findon, insisting as his daughter had already done that the only reparation he, Fenwick, could make to the friends he had so long and cruelly deceived, was to allow them a free hand in a fresh attempt to discover his wife, and so to clear Madame de Pastourelles from the ridiculous suspicions that Mrs.
'Because the ladies in the restaurant are so stout? said Eugénie. 'Dear papa somebody must keep these cooks in practice! 'Never did I see such spectacles! said Lord Findon, fuming. 'And when one knows that the very smallest attention to their diet and they might be sylphs again as young as their grandchildren! it's really disheartening. 'It is, said Eugénie.
She could see none: but there was an unused half-sheet at the back of one of Madame de Pastourelles' letters, and she roughly tore it off. Making use of a book held on her knee, and finding the pen and ink with which, only half an hour before, Lord Findon had written his cheque, she began to write: Good-bye, John, I have found out all I want to know, and you will never see me again.
He caught up a mirror and looked at it reversed; he put in a bold accent or two; fumed over the lack of brilliancy in some colour he had bought the day before; and ended in a fresh burst of satisfaction. By Jove, it was good! Lord Findon had been evidently 'bowled over' by it Cuningham too. As for that sour-faced fellow, Watson, what did it matter what he thought? It must succeed!
The restless happiness in Fenwick's face and movements gave his visitors indeed so much pleasure that they found it hard to go; several times they said good-bye, only to plunge again into the sketches and studies that lay littered about the room, to stand chatting before the new canvas, to laugh and gossip till Lord Findon remembered that Eugénie did not yet know that he had offered Fenwick five hundred pounds for the two pictures instead of four hundred and fifty pounds; and that he might have the prompt satisfaction of telling her that he had bettered her instructions, he at last dragged her away.
It was now nearly twelve months since Fenwick had seen her; and it was his eagerness to meet her again, much more than the necessities of his new commission, which had brought him out post-haste to Paris and Versailles, where, indeed, Lord Findon, in a kind letter, had suggested that he should join them.
Fenwick flushed hotly. 'Lord Findon doesn't admire his work? he said, almost with fierceness, turning to his companion. 'He hates his pictures and collects his drawings. 'Drawings! Fenwick shrugged his shoulders. 'Anybody can make a clever drawing. It's putting on the paint that counts. Why doesn't he go abroad? 'Oh, well, he does go to Holland.
'Not in the least! cried Lord Findon. His eye twinkled. 'My dear fellow, what are you thinking of? These are the days of merit, and publicity! when every man comes to his own. Fenwick grinned a little. 'You've earned your success anyway, and it'll be a thumper. Now look here, where can we talk business? Fenwick put down his palette, and slipped his arms into his coat.
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