ss of contemporary
fashions turns to beauty under the learned rendering of textures and
surfaces. Bibelots and furnishings, wall-hangings, pictures, rugs,
polished floors, glass and silver and china and jewels are all likewise
pressed into the service of an art that used what lay nearest to it, not
for the purposes of realism but for the enchantment of the vision. M.
Lambotte has pointed out that Stevens introduced mirrors, crystals and
porcelains into his canvasses with the same intention as that of the
landscape-painter who makes choice of a subject with a river, lake or
pond, knowing that clear reflections and smooth surface aid in giving
the effect of distance and intervening atmosphere. The same writer has
told us that so far from reproducing the ordinary costumes of his period
Stevens took pains to seek exclusive and elegant examples, _chefs
d'oeuvres_ of the dressmaker's art, and that such were put at his
service by the great ladies of the second empire. The beautiful muslin
over-dress of the _Dame en Rose_ is perhaps the one that most taxed his
flexible brush. It is diaphanous in texture, elaborately cut and
trimmed with delicate laces and embroideries, and the rose of the
under-robe, the snowy white of the muslin, the silver ornaments and the
pale blonde hair of the wearer make the lightest and daintiest of
harmonies accentuated by the black of the lacquer cabinet with its
brilliant polychromatic insets.

Unlike Whistler, Stevens never abandoned the rich and complicated color
arrangements of his youth for an austere and restricted palette. He
nevertheless was at his best when his picture was dominated by a single
color, as in the wonderful _Fedora_ of 1882 or _La Tricoteuse_. In the
former the warmly tinted hair and deep yellow fan are the vibrant notes,
the creamy dress, the white flowers, the silver bracelet, and the white
butterfly making an _ensemble_ like a golden wheatfield swept by pale
lights. The piquant note of contrast is given by the blue insolent eyes
and the hardly deeper blue blossoms of the love-in-a-mist held in the
languid hands.

In _La Tricoteuse_ the composition of colors is much the same--a creamy
white dress with gray shadows, reddish yellow hair, and a bit of blue
knitting with the addition of a sharp line of red made by the signature.
There is no austerity in these vaporous glowing arrangements of a single
color. They are as near to the portraiture of full sunlight as pigment
has been