A painter, I know, was fortunate enough to receive, a year or two ago, the commission to paint a well-known beauty.He was delighted with the idea and convinced that he could make her portrait the best work of his life, one that would be the stepping-stone to fame and fortune.This was in the spring.He was naturally burning to begin at once, but found to his dismay that the lady was just about starting for Europe.So he waited, and at her suggestion installed himself a couple of months later at the seaside city where she had a cottage.No one could be more charming than she was, inviting him to dine and drive daily, but when he broached the subject of "sitting," was "too busy just that day." Later in the autumn she would be quite at his disposal.In the autumn, however, she was visiting, never ten days in the same place.Early winter found her "getting her house in order," a mysterious rite apparently attended with vast worry and fatigue.With cooling enthusiasm, the painter called and coaxed and waited.November brought the opera and the full swing of a New York season.So far she has given him half a dozen sittings, squeezed in between a luncheon, which made her "unavoidably late," for which she is charmingly "sorry," and a reception that she was forced to attend, although "it breaks my heart to leave just as you are beginning to work so well, but Ireally must, or the tiresome old cat who is giving the tea will be saying all sorts of unpleasant things about me." So she flits off, leaving the poor, disillusioned painter before his canvas, knowing now that his dream is over, that in a month or two his pretty sitter will be off again to New Orleans for the carnival, or abroad, and that his weary round of waiting will recommence.He will be fortunate if some day it does not float back to him, in the mysterious way disagreeable things do come to one, that she has been heard to say, "I fear dear Mr.Palette is not very clever, for I have been sitting to him for over a year, and he has really done nothing yet."He has been simply the victim of a state of affairs that neither of them were strong enough to break through.It never entered into Beauty's head that she could lead a life different from her friends.She was honestly anxious to have a successful portrait of herself, but the sacrifice of any of her habits was more than she could make.
第40章 _The Treadmill._(1)（2 / 3）