“That would have been quite impossible.”
“You mean he will come later?”
“He died some months ago. I am his daughter, and am continuing with his commitments.”
He looked rather alarmed.
“Mademoiselle Lawson, these paintings are very valuable …”
“It would scarcely be necessary to restore them if they were not.”
“We could only allow an expert to handle them,” he said.
“J am an expert. My father was recommended to you. I worked with him.
In fact the restoration of buildings was his forte . pictures were mine. “
This is the end, I thought. He is annoyed to have been placed in a distasteful situation. He will never let me stay. I made a desperate effort.
“You had heard of my father. Then that means you had heard of me. We worked together.”
“You did not explain …”
“I believed the matter was urgent. I thought it wiser to obey the summons without delay. If my father had accepted the commission I should have come with him. We always worked together.”
“Pray be seated,” he said.
I sat down in a chair with a carved wooden back which forced me to sit straight while he threw himself on to a settee, his legs stretched out before him.
“Did you think. Mademoiselle Lawson,” he said slowly, ‘that had you explained that your father was dead we should have declined your services? “
“I believed that your object was to have the pictures restored and was under the impression that it was the work which was important, not the sex of the restorer.” Again that arrogance, which was really the outward sign of my anxiety! I was certain that he was going to tell me to go. But I had to fight for a chance, because I knew that if only I could get it I could show them what I could do.
His brow was wrinkled as though he were trying to come to a decision; he was watching me covertly. He gave a little laugh which was quite mirthless and said: “It seems strange that you did not write and tell us.”
I rose to my feet. Dignity demanded it.
He stood up. I had rarely felt as wretchedly miserable as I did when I haughtily walked to the door.
“One moment, mademoiselle.”
He had spoken first. It seemed a small victory.
I looked over my shoulder without turning.
“Only one train leaves our station each day. This is at nine o’clock in the morning. It would be necessary for you to drive some ten kilometres to catch a mainline train for Paris.”
“Oh!” I allowed dismay to show on my face.
“You see,” he went on, ‘you have placed yourself in a very awkward situation. “
“I did not think that my credentials would be slighted without scrutiny. I have never worked before in France and was quite unprepared for such a reception.”
It was a good thrust. He rose to it.
“Mademoiselle, I assure you, you will be treated as courteously in France as you would be anywhere else.”
I raised my shoulders.
“I suppose there is an inn a hotel where I could stay the night?”
“We could not allow that. We can offer you hospitality.”
“It is good of you,” I said coldly, ‘but in the circumstances . “
“You spoke of credentials.”
“I have recommendations from people who were very i9
pleased with my work in England. I have worked in some of our great houses and have been entrusted with masterpieces. But you are not interested. “
“That is not true, mademoiselle. I am interested. Any thing connected with the chateau is of the utmost concern to me.” His face had changed as he spoke. It was illumined by a great passion his love for this old house. I warmed towards him. I should have felt as he did if such a place were my home. He went on hurriedly: “You must admit that I am justified in my surprise. I expected a man of experience and am confronted by a young lady …”
“I am no longer young, I assure you.”
He made no effort to refute this, still seeming preoccupied with his own thoughts his emotions where the chateau was concerned, his indecision as to whether to allow me, whose skill he doubted, near his wonderful paintings.
“Perhaps you would show me your credentials.”
I walked back to the table and from an inner pocket of my cloak took a bundle of letters and handed them to him. He signed for me to be seated. Then he too sat and began to read the letters. I folded my hands in my lap and clasped them firmly. A moment before, I thought I had lost; now I was not so sure.
I watched him while pretending to study the room. He was trying to make up his mind what he should do. This surprised me. I had imagined the Comte to be a man who was rarely in doubt, who made quick decisions, having no difficulty as to the wisdom of them since he would believe himself always to be right.
“They are very impressive,” he said as he handed them back to me. He looked full at me for some seconds, then went on rather hesitantly: “I expect you would like to see the pictures.”
“There seems little point if I am not to work on them.”
“Perhaps you will. Mademoiselle Lawson.”
“You mean …”
“I mean that I think you should stay here at least for a night. You have had a long journey. You are tired, I am sure. And as you are such an expert’ he glanced at the letters in my hand ‘and have been so highly congratulated by such eminent people, I am sure you would at least wish to see the pictures. We have some excellent examples of painting in the chateau. I do assure you that it is a collection worthy of your attention.”
“I am sure it is. But I think I should be getting to my hotel.”
“I don’t recommend it.”
“Oh?”
“It is very small and the food is not of the best. You would be more comfortable in the chateau, I am sure.”
“I should not care to make a nuisance of myself.”
“But of course you would not. I am going to insist that you stay here, and that you now allow me to call the maid to take you to your room.
It has been prepared, you know, although of course we did not know it was to be for a lady. Still, that need not concern you. The maid will bring some food to your room. Then I suggest you rest awhile and later you must see the paintings. “
“Then you mean that you want me to do the work I came to do?”
“You could give us your advice first, could you not?”
I felt so relieved I changed my feelings towards him. The dislike of a moment ago turned to liking.
“I would do my best, Monsieur Ie Comte.”
“You are under a delusion, mademoiselle. I am not the Comte de la Talle.”
I was unable to control my amazement.
“Then who …”
“Philippe de la Talle, the Comte’s cousin. So you see it is not I whom you have to please. It is the Comte de la Talle. He is the one who will decide whether or not he will entrust you with the restoration of
his paintings. I assure you that if the decision rested with me I should ask you to begin without delay.” “When can I see the Comte?”
“He is not at the chateau and will doubtless be absent for some days.
I suggest that you remain with us until his return. In the meantime you can examine the paintings and then be ready to estimate what is needed by the time of his return. “
“Some days!” I said in dismay.
“I fear so.”
As he moved to the bell rope and pulled it, I was thinking: This is a respite. At least I shall have a few days in the chateau.
I guessed my room was close to the keep. The window aperture was large enough to contain two stone benches on either side although it narrowed to a slit. I could only look out by standing on tiptoe; below me was the moat and beyond that the trees and vineyards. I was amused that even as I reviewed the uncertainty of my position I could not stop myself assessing the house and its treasures. Father had been the same. The most important thing in his life had been ancient monuments; the paintings a good second. With me it was paintings first, but I had inherited something of his passion for buildings.