Felix had at all times a brilliant assurance of manner which was simply the vehicle of his good spirits and his good will; but at present he had a special design, and as he would have admitted that the design was audacious, so he was conscious of having summoned all the arts of conversation to his aid. But he was so far from desiring to offend his visitor that he was rapidly asking himself what personal compliment he could pay the young clergyman that would gratify him most.
If he could think of it, he was prepared to pay it down.
"Have you been preaching one of your beautiful sermons to-day?" he suddenly asked, laying down his palette. This was not what Felix had been trying to think of, but it was a tolerable stop-gap.
Mr. Brand frowned--as much as a man can frown who has very fair, soft eyebrows, and, beneath them, very gentle, tranquil eyes.
"No, I have not preached any sermon to-day. Did you bring me over here for the purpose of ****** that inquiry?"
Felix saw that he was irritated, and he regretted it immensely; but he had no fear of not being, in the end, agreeable to Mr. Brand.
He looked at him, smiling and laying his hand on his arm.
"No, no, not for that--not for that. I wanted to ask you something;
I wanted to tell you something. I am sure it will interest you very much. Only--as it is something rather private--we had better come into my little studio. I have a western window; we can still see the sunset. Andiamo!" And he gave a little pat to his companion's arm.
He led the way in; Mr. Brand stiffly and softly followed.
The twilight had thickened in the little studio; but the wall opposite the western window was covered with a deep pink flush.
There were a great many sketches and half-finished canvasses suspended in this rosy glow, and the corners of the room were vague and dusky. Felix begged Mr. Brand to sit down; then glancing round him, "By Jove, how pretty it looks!" he cried. But Mr. Brand would not sit down; he went and leaned against the window; he wondered what Felix wanted of him.
In the shadow, on the darker parts of the wall, he saw the gleam of three or four pictures that looked fantastic and surprising. They seemed to represent naked figures.
Felix stood there, with his head a little bent and his eyes fixed upon his visitor, smiling intensely, pulling his mustache.
Mr. Brand felt vaguely uneasy. "It is very delicate--what I want to say," Felix began. "But I have been thinking of it for some time."
"Please to say it as quickly as possible," said Mr. Brand.
"It 's because you are a clergyman, you know," Felix went on.
"I don't think I should venture to say it to a common man."
Mr. Brand was silent a moment. "If it is a question of yielding to a weakness, of resenting an injury, I am afraid I am a very common man."
"My dearest friend," cried Felix, "this is not an injury; it 's a benefit--a great service! You will like it extremely.
Only it 's so delicate!" And, in the dim light, he continued to smile intensely. "You know I take a great interest in my cousins--in Charlotte and Gertrude Wentworth. That 's very evident from my having traveled some five thousand miles to see them."
Mr. Brand said nothing and Felix proceeded. "Coming into their society as a perfect stranger I received of course a great many new impressions, and my impressions had a great freshness, a great keenness.
Do you know what I mean?"
"I am not sure that I do; but I should like you to continue."
"I think my impressions have always a good deal of freshness," said Mr. Brand's entertainer; "but on this occasion it was perhaps particularly natural that--coming in, as I say, from outside--
I should be struck with things that passed unnoticed among yourselves.
And then I had my sister to help me; and she is simply the most observant woman in the world."
"I am not surprised," said Mr. Brand, "that in our little circle two intelligent persons should have found food for observation.
I am sure that, of late, I have found it myself!"
"Ah, but I shall surprise you yet!" cried Felix, laughing.
"Both my sister and I took a great fancy to my cousin Charlotte."
"Your cousin Charlotte?" repeated Mr. Brand.
"We fell in love with her from the first!"
"You fell in love with Charlotte?" Mr. Brand murmured.
"Dame!" exclaimed Felix, "she 's a very charming person; and Eugenia was especially smitten." Mr. Brand stood staring, and he pursued, "Affection, you know, opens one's eyes, and we noticed something.
Charlotte is not happy! Charlotte is in love." And Felix, drawing nearer, laid his hand again upon his companion's arm.
There was something akin to an acknowledgment of fascination in the way Mr. Brand looked at him; but the young clergyman retained as yet quite enough self-possession to be able to say, with a good deal of solemnity, "She is not in love with you."
Felix gave a light laugh, and rejoined with the alacrity of a maritime adventurer who feels a puff of wind in his sail.
"Ah, no; if she were in love with me I should know it!
I am not so blind as you."
"As I?"
"My dear sir, you are stone blind. Poor Charlotte is dead in love with you!"
Mr. Brand said nothing for a moment; he breathed a little heavily.
"Is that what you wanted to say to me?" he asked.
"I have wanted to say it these three weeks. Because of late she has been worse. I told you," added Felix, "it was very delicate."