Mr. Granger's apartments
were in a corner house, and he had the advantage of this side view. There
was very little of what Mr. Wemmick called "portable property" in this
northern drawing-room. There were blue-satin divans running along the
walls, a couple of blue-satin easy-chairs, an ormolu stand with a monster
Sevres dish for cards, and that was all--a room in which one might,
"receive," but could scarcely live.
The light was capital, Mr. Austin said. He set up his easel, settled the
position of his sister, after a little discussion with Mr. Granger, and
began work. Clarissa's was to be the first portrait. This being arranged,
Mr. Granger departed to write letters, leaving Sophia established, with her
Berlin-wool work, at one of the windows. Clarissa would not, of course,
like to be left _tete-a-tete_ for two or three hours with a strange
painter, Miss Granger opened.
Yes, it was very pleasant to have him there, even though their talk was
restrained by the presence of a third person, and they could only speak of
indifferent things. Perhaps to Austin Lovel himself it was pleasanter to
have Miss Granger there than to be quite alone with his sister. He was very
fond of Clarissa, but there was much in his past life--some things in his
present life even--that would not bear talking of, and he shrank a little
from his sister's tender questioning. Protected by Miss Granger and her
Berlin-wool spaniels, he was quite at his ease, and ran gaily on about all
manner of things as he sketched his outline and set his palette.
Pages:
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496