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Updated: June 20, 2025
"I was thinking of something," she said in a muffled voice. "It's all right." "Chere mademoiselle!" Lavendie murmured; and all the way home he was timid and distressed. Shaking his hand at the door, she murmured: "I'm sorry I was such a fool; and thank you awfully, monsieur. Good night." "Good night; and better dreams. There is a good time coming Peace and Happiness once more in the world.
You would not let him paint you. Ah! que c'est drole! You are so pretty, too. Hein, Monsieur Barra, is not mademoiselle pretty?" The soldier gave his heavy giggle, and resumed his scrutiny of the floor. "Henriette," said Lavendie, "sit down beside Chica you must not stand. Sit down, mademoiselle, I beg." "I'm so sorry you're not well," said Noel, and sat down again.
The little girl nursed her doll, the soldier gazed at the floor, the woman's mouth moved stealthily, and in Noel the thought rushed continually to the verge of action: 'Couldn't I get up and run downstairs? But she sat on, hypnotised by that silence, till Lavendie reappeared with a bottle and four glasses. "To drink our health, and wish us luck, mademoiselle," he said.
"May I look?" "Certainly." She did not quite recognise herself who does? but she saw a face which affected her oddly, of a girl looking at something which was, and yet was not, in front of her. "My name is Lavendie," the painter said; "my wife and I live here," and he gave her a card.
"She has no men friends; her sort never have, only lovers. Why do you think he knows about me?" "When he asked after you he looked " "Yes; I've seen him look like that when he's sorry for anything. I don't care. Has Monsieur Lavendie been in lately?" "Yes; he looks awfully unhappy." "His wife drugs." "Oh, Nollie! How do you know?"
"She looks 'fey," he said, and went out of the room. Lavendie and Noel remained staring at the picture. "Fey? What does that mean, mademoiselle?" "Possessed, or something." And they continued to stare at the picture, till Lavendie said: "I think there is still a little too much light on that ear." The same evening, at bedtime, Pierson called Noel back. "Nollie, I want you to know something.
Noel saw from the painter's face that there was no wine, and perhaps no money to get any; but he went quickly out. She rose and said: "I must be going, madame." Madame Lavendie leaned forward and clutched her wrist. "Wait a little, mademoiselle. We shall have some wine, and Pierre shall take you back presently. You cannot go home alone you are too pretty. Is she not, Monsieur Barra?"
The child gave him a sudden brilliant smile and resumed her grave scrutiny of the visitor. The soldier, who had risen heavily, offered Noel one of his podgy hands, with a sad and heavy giggle. "Sit down, mademoiselle," said Lavendie, placing a chair for her: "I will bring my wife in," and he went out through some double doors. Noel sat down.
He, already a free-thinker, was now revealed as a free-liver. Poor little Nollie! Endangered again already! Every man a kind of wolf waiting to pounce on her! He found Lavendie and Noel in the drawing-room, standing before the portrait which was nearing completion. He looked at it for a long minute, and turned away: "Don't you think it's like me, Daddy?" "It's like you; but it hurts me.
Tell me, monsieur, you would not think it worthy of you to speak to me of your troubles, would you, as I have spoken of mine?" Pierson bowed his head, abashed. "You preach of universal charity and love," went on Lavendie; "but how can there be that when you teach also secretly the keeping of your troubles to yourselves?
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