Edith Wharton - SSC 10 Read Online Free PDF Page A

one New York drawing-room to another, gazing, appraising—even,
though rarely, praising—but absolutely refusing to take another order, or to
postpone by a single day the date of his sailing. “I’ve got it all here,” he
said, touching first his brow and then his pocket; and the dealer who acted as
his impresario let it be understood that even the most exaggerated offers would
be rejected.
                 Targatt
had, of course, met the great man. In old days he would have been uncomfortably
awed by the encounter; but now he could joke easily about the Gugginses, and
even ask Svengaart if he had not been struck by his sister-in-law, who was Mrs.
Guggins’s social secretary, and was about to marry Mr. Guggins’s Paris
representative.
                 “Ah—the lovely Kouradjine; yes. She made us some delicious
blinys,” Svengaart nodded approvingly; but Targatt saw with surprise that as a
painter he was uninterested in Olga’s plastic possibilities.
                 “Ah,
well, I suppose you’ve had enough of us—I hear you’re off this week.”
                 The
painter dropped his monocle. “Yes, I’ve had enough.” It was after dinner, at
the Bellamys’, and abruptly he seated himself on the sofa at Targatt’s side. “I
don’t like your frozen food,” he pursued. “There’s only one thing that would
make me put off my sailing.” He readjusted his monocle and looked straight at
Targatt. “If you’ll give me the chance to paint Mrs. Targatt—oh, for that I’d
wait another month.”
                 Targatt
stared at him, too surprised to answer. Nadeja—the great man wanted to paint
Nadeja! The idea aroused so many conflicting considerations that his reply,
when it came, was a stammer. “Why, really … this is a surprise … a great
honour, of course…” A vision of Svengaart’s price for a mere head thrust itself
hideously before his eyes. Svengaart, seeing him as it were encircled by
millionaires, probably took him for a very rich man—was perhaps manoeuvring to
extract an extra big offer from him. For what other inducement could there be
to paint Nadeja? Targatt turned the question with a joke. “I suspect you’re
confusing me with my brother-in-law Bellamy. He ought to have persuaded you to
paint his wife. But I’m afraid my means wouldn’t allow …”
                 The
other interrupted him with an irritated gesture. “Please—my dear sir. I can
never be ‘persuaded’ to do a portrait. And in the case of Mrs. Targatt I had no
idea of selling you her picture. If I paint her, it would be for myself .”
                 Targatt’s
stare widened. “For yourself? You mean—you’d paint the
picture just to keep it?” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Nadeja would be enormously flattered, of course. But, between ourselves , would you mind telling me why you want to do
her?”
                 Svengaart
stood up with a faint laugh. “Because she’s the only really pain table woman
I’ve seen here. The lines are incomparable for a full-length. And I can’t tell
you how I should enjoy the change.”
                 Targatt
continued to stare. Murmurs of appreciation issued from his parched lips. He
remembered now that Svengaart’s charge for a three-quarter-length was fifteen
thousand dollars. And he wanted to do Nadeja full length for nothing!
Only—Targatt reminded himself—the brute wanted to keep the picture. So where
was the good? It would only make Nadeja needlessly conspicuous; and to give all
those sittings for nothing… Well, it looked like sharp practice, somehow…
                 “Of
course, as I say, my wife would be immensely flattered; only she’s very
busy—her family, social obligations and so on; I really can’t say…”
                 Svengaart
smiled. “In the course of a portrait I usually make a good many studies; some
almost as finished as the