A Twofold Life Part 37

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"Yes, but we must first have a fight, to decide which of us she will allow to paint her," said another, waving a staff in the air.

"Fraulein Erwing," cried a little black-bearded Pole, with a shrill accent, "I will shoot the first man to whom you sit!"

"That is not necessary," growled he of the lion's mane; "we will all paint her at once!"

"Yes, yes!" cried many voices at the same moment. "That's a good idea!

We will all paint her at once!"



"That is, if I will sit to you," laughed Cornelia, "for I have not yet resigned all right of owners.h.i.+p in my own face, gentlemen."

"Fraulein Erwing," began the man of the lion's mane, with great pathos, "we do not know in what branch of Christian duty your reverend father instructs you, but he has certainly taught you that our advantages are only bestowed upon us that we may make them available for the profit and welfare of others; so you will perceive that it is your duty to pay the debt you owe Providence for your face, by using it to aid the development of youthful talent."

"Yes!" cried another; "you could not justify yourself before G.o.d if you displayed such a wealth of beauty to idle gazers, and grudgingly refused the struggling artist permission to use and perpetuate its lines in an inspired creation."

"You would make me unconscionably vain, gentlemen," said Cornelia, "if the fame of being the most beautiful on this little island were not so cheaply purchased."

A general "Oh, oh!" expressed the indignation of the enthusiastic artists at this modesty, and a torrent of eager protestations threatened to follow; but Cornelia cut them short by exclaiming, gayly, "Well, well, if you can make me of any use for a picture, I will give you a sitting; but one only, and at the utmost two hours long. So, whoever wants to paint me must take advantage of the opportunity."

"That is excellent!" they all cried, joyously. "It's a very short time, to be sure, but we'll see about the rest. But when may we draw you?"

"Whenever you choose, gentlemen. Perhaps the best time would be now!"

"Yes, yes; we will take her at her word," said one of the older ones of the party. "It shall be done now; and when the two hours are over, Fraulein Erwing shall see the sketches, and decide which of us she considers worthy the honor of another sitting for the completion of her picture."

"But our excursion," said a tall lad, whose whole vitality seemed to have run into an immense length of limb. "Shall we defer our excursion?"

"Let your chicken legs take you where you like, man," thundered he of the lion's mane; "but don't say you are an artist, if you talk about excursions while our eyes are permitted a glimpse into the holy of holies of beauty."

"Let him go!" cried another. "He can't help it; all his vital functions are expended in the use of his feet. It will be one the less to take up the room; there are twenty-three of us without him. The number is still too large. I scarcely believe that there were ever so many a.s.sembled on the island at one time before."

A long debate now followed concerning the place where they should sketch Cornelia, while the latter had meantime obtained possession of the newspaper, and was reading it in breathless suspense. Suddenly she started. She had found what she sought,--Ottmar's name as a candidate for the H---- Chambers. Her face was suffused with a rosy flush of joy, and her eyes sparkled as she laid the sheet aside and turned towards the artists, who were disputing violently because some thought it too hot out of doors, and others considered the room too small.

"Gentlemen," she cried gayly, "peace is the first condition I shall impose if I am to sit for you. We will go out into the open air and look for some shady spot; if you all want to paint me at the same time, we shall certainly need more room than there is here."

The proposal was accepted, and the whole party went out with Cornelia.

On a lofty part of the sh.o.r.e, not far from the inn, was a large open s.p.a.ce surrounded with lofty trees, beneath which stood wooden benches and tables, and where, in spite of the heat, it was cool and pleasant.

The eye could wander undazzled over the rippling lake and the beautiful island, which rested on the waters like a large green leaf. The light surges gently rocked the boats fastened near by; in one of them, under the spreading branches of an ancient linden, a peasant lad was extended sleeping comfortably, undisturbed by the loud bustle of the approaching artists. It seemed as if all nature was slumbering in her sunny noontide brightness.

"Well, gentlemen," exclaimed Cornelia, "is it not delightful here? Have we not shade, fresh breezes, and comfort?"

"Yes, yes," cried the artists in one breath; "we will stay here. Out with the portfolios, and let every one take his place and go to work!"

They buzzed about Cornelia like a swarm of bees which are about to settle and fly from one spot to another, now alighting, now rising again, now dispersing, and anon collecting at the same point, scuffling with each other about places, and filling the inexperienced observer with anxiety lest they should never get established. Such were the preparations of the artists at the beginning of their work. Here several were disputing about the profile, yonder a group wished to sit opposite to her, not unfrequently a slight skirmish decided the matter, and those who did not succeed in conquering a place climbed up into the trees and established themselves and their portfolios among the branches.

"We must form the narrowest possible semicircle," advised he of the lion's mane, who, as the possessor of the strongest lungs in the company, undertook the duty of organizing the party, in which, by means of a great expenditure of voice and unwearied energy, he at last succeeded; and when, with the aid of the trees, a half-circle was formed in the shape of an amphitheatre whose extremities could not even obtain a full profile, but merely a portion of the cheek and ear, the zealous artist first perceived that he had completely excluded himself.

His nostrils dilated to an unprecedented size as his large eyes wandered around the circle, while his broad freckled hands were thrust helplessly through his unkempt mane. A shrill peal of laughter echoed jeeringly from the circle and the trees, "Richard C[oe]ur de Lion has no place!"

"Be calm, Richard," cried one; "we will get you into the exhibition after all. We'll paint Fraulein Erwing as the lion's bride, and you as the monster!"

"Jeer away, you mocking-birds!" he thundered. "Because I am an artist, I thought more of the subject than myself, and I'll show you what an artist can do. I'll paint a neck and heir such as the world never yet saw!" and with these words he strode majestically on, seated himself behind Cornelia, and began to work with the must grotesque movements.

Silence now reigned while the three-and-twenty artists struggled in the greatest possible haste to perpetuate her features.

Cornelia had watched the tumult absently; her thoughts were wandering far away, and the stillness that ensued was most welcome. She could give herself up to her dreams undisturbed. "She is marvelously beautiful!" suddenly cried one of the younger artists from his perch in the tree. Universal applause answered this nave expression of delight.

"The birds in the trees are singing your praises, Fraulein Erwing!"

cried another. "Doesn't that flatter you?"

"Oh, certainly," she answered, smiling as indifferently as if she had not understood the compliment paid her.

"The best likeness will flatter her most," growled Richard C[oe]ur de Lion from behind Cornelia. "Express your admiration by work instead of words, and she will value it more."

"Well growled, lion!" said the young enthusiast in the tree.

"Go on the stage and declaim verses; you are more fit for an actor than an artist," exclaimed Richard, without having the slightest suspicion that he was himself in his appearance the most theatrical of all; for naturalness, when carried too far, becomes as great a caricature as affectation, and the stage is certainly the home of caricatured forms.

"Come, gentlemen," cried Cornelia, laughing; "the time you spend in disputing you will lose in work; for I must tell you that I will not sit a moment longer than the two hours agreed upon! It is altogether too uncomfortable to endure the gaze of three-and-twenty pairs of eyes."

This threat re-established peace; for the artists once more devoted all their energy to their work, and henceforth nothing was heard but the wondering exclamations of several country people who stationed themselves here and there on the outskirts of the shaded spot to gaze at a proceeding utterly incomprehensible to them. The time agreed upon pa.s.sed away, and Cornelia rose. Neither grumbling nor entreaties availed; she kept resolutely to her determination. The sketches were laid before her, and as she looked at them in succession she burst into a merry laugh. She saw her own face taken from some twenty different stand-points. "Dear me, can I be like all these?" she exclaimed, clasping her hands in astonishment. "If I ever knew how I looked, I should not from this day! Who can decide which of these many faces is mine? If this is, of course that can't be; and if this profile taken from the right is a good likeness, how can the one sketched from the left resemble me? The right side of my face must be entirely different from the left,--and that would be horribly abnormal. According to these profile views I should have two kinds of eyes, eyebrows, cheeks; nay, even my nose would consist of two dissimilar halves. Now, can you dispute this, gentlemen?"

The artists themselves could not help laughing as they looked at their pictures.

"Now you will get an idea of the variety and abundance of beauty your features possess, Fraulein Erwing," said one of the oldest of the group. "When compared with you the majority of the sketches seem pa.s.sable likenesses, although so different from each other that one would almost doubt whether they all represented the same face."

"A very pretty compliment to me--and an admirable defense of your colleagues," said Cornelia, courteously.

"But, Fraulein Erwing," cried another; "you have not yet noticed a picture which is at all events unique in its way; and our C[oe]ur de Lion, with unusual modesty, has already been waiting a long time for your opinion."

He handed Richard's drawing to Cornelia, and all gazed at it in astonishment, for it was a master-piece. A woman's upraised head, adorned with a wealth of hair so boldly drawn that one felt tempted to pa.s.s it through the fingers. A few curls which had escaped from the braids fell upon a most beautiful neck. Cornelia looked at the sheet in amazement. "You are indeed an artist," said she, fixing her large eyes with winning kindness upon Richard's rugged face. He blushed to the roots of his tawny hair with delight. "Fraulein Erwing," he exclaimed, "no praise ever made me so proud!"

"Yes, yes, C[oe]ur de Lion, Fraulein Erwing is right," said several of the group; "this hair and neck irresistibly tempt the beholder to turn the head and see the face, which is concealed from us. You have produced a master-piece."

"If you go on so much longer, he'll get so vain that he will comb his hair to-morrow. Just see! he is running his fingers through his mane!"

said others, laughing.

"Well," exclaimed the rest, "we will hope that at the exhibition Fraulein Erwing's features will yet win the victory over the beauty of her hair."

Thus each was cheered by the conviction that he alone would obtain the prize.

"So you will not sit longer to any of us?" asked Richard, as he placed his sketch in his portfolio.

"No, gentlemen. I was in the mood to enter into your jest; but if you ask me in earnest, I must tell you that it would not be at all agreeable to me to expose my face to the eyes of the whole public. I am both too proud and too modest."

"Is this your final decision?"

"It is irrevocable," said Cornelia, with courteous resolution.

"Well, we will not be ungrateful. In these two hours we have at least fixed the outlines of your features," said one of the quieter members of the party.

A Twofold Life Part 37

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A Twofold Life Part 37 summary

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