Chapter 10

When Francie, two days later, passed with Mr. Flack into Charles
Waterlow's studio she found Mme. de Cliche before the great canvas. She
enjoyed every positive sign that the Proberts took an interest in her,
and this was a considerable symptom, Gaston's second sister's coming all
that way--she lived over by the Invalides--to look at the portrait once
more. Francie knew she had seen it at an earlier stage; the work had
excited curiosity and discussion among the Proberts from the first of
their making her acquaintance, when they went into considerations about
it which had not occurred to the original and her companions--frequently
as, to our knowledge, these good people had conversed on the subject.
Gaston had told her that opinions differed much in the family as to the
merit of the work, and that Margaret, precisely, had gone so far as to
say that it might be a masterpiece of tone but didn't make her look like
a lady. His father on the other hand had no objection to offer to the
character in which it represented her, but he didn't think it well
painted. "Regardez-moi ca, et ca, et ca, je vous demande!" he had
exclaimed, making little dashes at the canvas with his glove, toward
mystifying spots, on occasions when the artist was not at hand. The
Proberts always fell into French when they spoke on a question of art.
"Poor dear papa, he only understands le vieux jeu!" Gaston had
explained, and he had still further to expound what he meant by the old
game. The brand-newness of Charles Waterlow's game had already been a
bewilderment to Mr. Probert.

Francie remembered now--she had forgotten it--Margaret de Cliche's
having told her she meant to come again. She hoped the marquise thought
by this time that, on canvas at least, she looked a little more like a
lady. Mme. de Cliche smiled at her at any rate and kissed her, as if in
fact there could be no mistake. She smiled also at Mr. Flack, on
Francie's introducing him, and only looked grave when, after she had
asked where the others were--the papa and the grande soeur--the girl
replied that she hadn't the least idea: her party consisted only of
herself and Mr. Flack. Then Mme. de Cliche's grace stiffened, taking on
a shade that brought back Francie's sense that she was the individual,
among all Gaston's belongings, who had pleased her least from the first.
Mme. de Douves was superficially more formidable, but with her the
second impression was comparatively comforting. It was just this second
impression of the marquise that was not. There were perhaps others
behind it, but the girl hadn't yet arrived at them. Mr. Waterlow
mightn't have been very much prepossessed with Mr. Flack, but he was
none the less perfectly civil to him and took much trouble to