“Bertrand, I think we should go in to dinner,” said the Baron.
“Yes,” said Bertrand and gave Madame St. Giles his arm. The Baron took mine.
I was startled. I had not expected this formality, and I found close proximity to the Baron something which repelled me.
Oddly enough, I think he knew that I was shrinking from him and disliked laying my hand even on his coat sleeve.
He looked over his shoulder at my father.
“Alas, Monsieur Collison,” he said, ‘we have no lady for you. Well, you are the guest of honour so that is your compensation. “
My father said it was a great pleasure to be here and the Baron was too kind.
I thought grimly: We will wait and see if that is so.
Dinner was an elaborate meal-more so than it had been on the previous night, but not nearly so enjoyable. This was due to the Baron’s presence.
The conversation, out of deference to my father, generally concerned art.
“My father was a collector,” the Baron told us, ‘and he taught me to follow in his footsteps. I have always had a strong appreciation of the creative arts . whether it be in literature, sculpture, music, or painting . I have always believed in absolute honesty regarding them. I know you will agree with me, Monsieur Collison. All great artists must. I do not like because I am told I must like. A work of art must please me. I think it is a disservice to art to abandon honesty for the sake of being in the fashion. I like a work of art for what it means to me . not for the signature in the corner if it is a picture, or on the cover of a book if it is literature. “
I couldn’t help applauding this sentiment. I would remind him of it if he were to discover I, a woman, had painted his portrait-that would be after he had expressed approval of it, of course.
“You are quite right, Baron,” said Madame St. Giles.
“I could not agree more.”
He looked at her mischievously.
“In your case, Nicole, it might be wiser to take note of the name of the artist … because, my dear, I’m afraid you lack the judgement to decide for yourself Nicole laughed.
“The Baron is right, you know,” she said, looking at me and my father.
“You will find me a complete ignoramus. One virtue I have, though. I am aware of my ignorance. So many people are completely oblivious of theirs. Now this is a virtue, is it not?”
“A very great one,” said the Baron.
“Ah, if only everyone had your good sense.”
“But who is to say whose judgement is to be respected?” I asked.
“There is a saying in my country that ” Good taste is what I have. Bad taste is what everyone else has who does not agree with me. “
“I see we have a philosopher here,” said the Baron, fixing me with his cold grey eyes.
“Answer that if you can, Nicole, for I cannot attack such logic.”
Then he talked to my father. We would start the portrait the following morning. He was anxious to get it completed quickly and could not stay long at the castle. He had business in Paris.
“A work of art cannot be hurried,” I said.
“I see now why you have brought your daughter with you,” retorted the Baron.
“She is going to keep us all in good order.”
“Oh, Kate is very useful to me,” said my father.
“I have come to rely on her.”
“Everyone should have someone on whom he or she can. rely. Don’t you agree, Nicole? Mademoiselle Collison? Bertrand?”
Bertrand said that it was comforting.
Madame St. Giles said it was necessary.
I said I thought that one should be self reliant if that were possible.
“As you are, Mademoiselle Collison, I see. How do you work, Monsieur Collison? I did so admire the miniature you did of the Grafvon Engheim. I saw it when I was in Bavaria. In fact it was what decided me that I would ask you to execute this commission for me.”
“The Gratis a charming man,” said my father.
“It was &’ very pleasant stay in the Black Forest. What an enchanting^ place that is. I shall never forget it.” j “I liked, too, the one you did of the Grafin. You made her look like a princess of romance.”
“A beautiful woman …”
“I thought her features very irregular.”
“An inner beauty,” mused my father.
“Difficult to define in words.”
“But you captured it in paint. An ether al quality … yes. It gave a suggestion of goodness. A lovely piece of work. I can tell you the Graf was delighted. He showed it to me with great pride.”
My father beamed with pleasure.
“I hope that you will be equally pleased, Baron,” he said.
“I must be. I want the best you have ever done. My Collison must be supreme. I already have one Collison in my collection. You must see my miniatures. This one dates back … according to the costume … to the mid-seventeenth century. I fancy it was painted just after that time when the Roundheads were making such havoc in your country … as the mob did for us not so long ago. That miniature is one of my most highly prized.”
“Do you know who the subject is?”
“No. It is just called An Unknown Woman. But there is the distinctive KC. in the corner. We had difficulty in finding it but I knew it was a Collison by the style. Having seen your daughter, I have come to the conclusion that it is a picture of a member of the family. There is a resemblance. Colouring and a certain’ he paused and I could not read the expression in his eyes ‘je ne sais quoi… But I have always been aware of it.”
“I very much look forward to seeing that,” said my father.
“You shall. You most certainly shall.”
I was excited by the talk of art and his obvious knowledge. I was most eager to learn as much as I could about him and I felt I was not doing too badly. I knew that he was arrogant, rich, powerful, that he had always had his own way and planned to go on doing just that. He was knowledgeable about art and had a real feeling for it. It would be almost impossible to deceive him, I was sure. I was eager to talk with my father as to how we should deal with this difficult situation and the thought that it would begin the next morning filled me with apprehension.
When we rose from the dining table we went back to the room with the painted ceiling. Liqueurs were served there; I found the drink sweet and pleasant.
After a while the Baron said: “Monsieur Collison is tired, I see.
Bertrand, you will conduct him to his room. Mademoiselle Collison, I see that you are not tired. You would, I am sure, prefer to remain and chat a while. “
I said that was so, and Bertrand took my father to his room, leaving me alone with the Baron and Madame St. Giles.
“Tomorrow,” he said, looking at me, “I shall show you my treasures.
Have you explored the castle yet? “
“Monsieur de Mortemer has been very good. He has shown me a little.”
The Baron snapped his fingers.
“Bertrand has not the feeling for the castle … wouldn’t you say so, Nicole?”
“Well, it is yours, isn’t it? He, like the rest of us, is but a guest here.”
The Baron patted Nicole’s knee rather affectionately. I thought he must be on very familiar terms with her.
“Well, Mademoiselle Collison,” he said, ‘you know how it is. This is my home. It is built by my ancestor and is one of the first the Normans built in France. There were Centevilles living here from the early days when Great Rollo came harrying the coast of France, with such success that the French King said that the only way to stop this perpetual harassment is to give these invaders a corner of France, which he did. And there was Normandy. Never make the mistake of thinking we are French. We are not. We are the Norsemen come to France from the magnificent fjords. “
“The French were a very cultivated people when the savage Norsemen came in their long ships looking for conquest,” I reminded him.