THE AMERICAN
deal. But my copy is extremely soigné. That's its value."
The gentleman in whom we are interested understood no French, but I have said he was intelligent, and here is a good chance to prove it. He apprehended, by a natural instinct, the meaning of the young woman's phrase, and it gratified him to find her so honest. Beauty, therefore talent, rectitude; she combined everything! "But you must finish it," he said. "Finish, you know;" and he pointed to the unpainted hand of the figure.
"Oh, it shall be finished in perfection—in the perfection of perfections!" cried mademoiselle; and to confirm her promise she deposited a rosy blotch in the middle of the Madonna's cheek.
But the American frowned. "Ah, too red, too red!" he objected. "Her complexion," pointing to the Murillo, "is more delicate."
"Delicate? Oh it shall be delicate, monsieur; delicate as Sèvres biscuit. I'm going to tone that down; I promise you it shall have a surface! And where will you allow us to send it to you? Your address."
"My address? Oh yes!" And the gentleman drew a card from his pocket-book and wrote something on it. Then hesitating a moment: "If I don't like it when it is finished, you know, I shall not be obliged to pay for it."
The young lady seemed as good a guesser as himself. "Oh, I'm very sure monsieur's not capricious!"
"Capricious?" And at this monsieur began to laugh. "Oh no, I'm not capricious. I'm very faithful. I'm very constant. Comprenez?"
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