sion.

She had studied him at first and speedily ranked him, calling him:

"An innocent!"

She felt that in this house in Rue Prony, where she was really not in
her own home but was installed as in a conquered territory, Sulpice was
dazzled. Like a provincial, as Granet described him so often, he entered
there into a new world.

Uncle Kayser frequently called to see his niece. Severe in taste, he
cast long, disdainful looks at the tapestries and the artistic trifles
that adorned the house. In his opinion, it was rubbish and the luxury of
a decaying age. He never changed his tune, always riding the hobby-horse
of an aesthetic moralist.

"It lacks severity, all this furnishing of yours," was his constantly
repeated criticism to Marianne, as he sat smoking his pipe on a divan,
as was his custom in his own, wretched studio.

Then, in an abrupt way, with his eye wandering over the ceiling as if he
were following the flight of a chimera, he would say:

"Why! your minister must do a great deal, if all this comes from the
ministry!"

Marianne interrupted him. It was no business of his to mix himself up
with matters that did not concern him. Above all, he must hold his
tongue. Did he forget that Vaudrey was married? The least indiscretion--

"Oh! don't alarm yourself," the painter broke in, "I am as dumb as a
carp, the more so since your escapade is not very praiseworthy!--For you
have, in fact, deserted the domestic hearth--yes, you have deserted the
hearth.--It is pretty here, a little like a courtesan's, perhaps, but
pretty, all the same.--But you must acknowledge that it is a case of
interloping. It is not the genuine home with its dignity, its virtuous
severity, its--What time does your minister come? I would like to speak
to him--"

"To preach morality to him?" asked Marianne, glancing at her uncle with
an ironical expression.

"Not at all. I am considered to be ignorant--No, I have a plan to
decorate in a uniform way, all the mayors' offices in Paris and I want
to propose it to him--_The Modern Marriage_, an allegorical
treatment!--_Law Imposing Duty on Love_. Something noble, full of
expression, moralizing. Art that will set people thinking, for the
contemplation of lofty works can alone improve the morals and the
masses--You understand?"

"Perfectly. You want a commission!"

"Ah! that's a contemptible word, hold! A commission! Is a true artist
commissioned? He obeys his inspiration, he follows his ideal