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He hated to think of her expression when he conveyed Mosenthal's offer to her. The Jew's notes positively burned in his fingers as he had laid them down on his dressing-table; the fellow's offer was extraordinarily tempting. Ah, welladay! This was the end, then, of Heronsbeck Hall, which he prized above every earthly possession after his daughter.
Then he continued in a lighter key: "However, I don't refuse; you take me too literally. It was the last bitter cry of my spleen. I have put myself in Mosenthal's hands; I've sold him two pictures." "In that case, then, why am I not to be glad?" "Oh, it's success!" said Oswyn. He glanced contemptuously at his frayed shirt-cuff, with the broad stains of paint upon it.
Well, all was now over. The 'lament' must sound over Heronsbeck. Mosenthal must take the estate; he himself would take Lily abroad and live forgotten, for he had rejected Mosenthal's proposal now, absolutely. Just at this decisive moment he distinctly heard the cry of a peacock sound weird and discordant without. 'The peacock's cry! It was as the wail of the banshee in his ear.
The reply, "At Mosenthal's at five o'clock," did not surprise him. He did not happen to have the vaguest idea as to what was the attraction of the day at that particular gallery. It might be Burmese landscapes, or portraits of parrots; it was all one to him. It was extremely decorous in his wife to affect picture-galleries, and Mosenthal's place was conveniently near to his favourite club.
I have Mosenthal's letter in my pocket it was handed me by McAllister offering his gallery, the pick of Bond Street. Oswyn's Exhibition, with expurgations and reservations, of course, but an exhibition! Don't you congratulate me?" Rainham glanced up at him, smiling; at last he said whimsically: "If you don't want me to, of course I won't. But après, where's the harm?"
Six months before, he had first seen Madame Orme as "Deborah," in Mosenthal's popular drama, and, charmed by her face and figure, had attempted to make her acquaintance.
"You would consume a great deal of raw spirit, to take the taste out of your mouth. And my 'Medusa' is to hang for the future in Mr. Mosenthal's dining-room! Will he understand her, do you think?" Rainham was silent, wondering at his friend's departure from his wonted reticence, which, however, scarcely surprised him.
She would probably have remembered a name so uncommon if she had only heard it once, and, as it was, she had heard it several times, and associated with it, moreover, a certain reticence which could not fail to arouse a woman's curiosity. Later, when Mosenthal's card of invitation for the Private View arrived, she noted the day upon her list of engagements.
There was no sleep, however, for him that night, for he dreaded the morning and the astounded look of his darling Lily his only child when he had to tell her of Mosenthal's proposal. 'Of course she won't do it she couldn't. There'll be no harm done, for she'd as soon accept a Hottentot as a rich Jew. So her father reflected aloud. But she wouldn't like it.
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