know what he would say. He turned over
the leaves, smiling all the while, and as he did not speak, she was the
first to ask:

'You think it very bad, don't you?'

'Not at all,' he replied. 'It's innocent.'

The reply hurt her, despite Claude's indulgent tone, which aimed at
making it amiable.

'Well, you see I had so few lessons from mamma. I like painting to be
well done, and pleasing.'

Thereupon he burst into frank laughter.

'Confess now that my painting makes you feel ill! I have noticed it. You
purse your lips and open your eyes wide with fright. Certainly it is
not the style of painting for ladies, least of all for young girls. But
you'll get used to it; it's only a question of educating your eyes and
you'll end by seeing that what I am doing is very honest and healthy.'

Indeed, Christine slowly became used to it. But, at first, artistic
conviction had nothing to do with the change, especially as Claude,
with his contempt for female opinion, did not take the trouble to
indoctrinate her. On the contrary, in her company he avoided conversing
about art, as if he wished to retain for himself that passion of his
life, apart from the new passion which was gradually taking possession
of him. Still, Christine glided into the habit of the thing, and became
familiarised with it; she began to feel interested in those abominable
pictures, on noticing the important place they held in the artist's
existence. This was the first stage on the road to conversion; she
felt greatly moved by his rageful eagerness to be up and doing, the
whole-heartedness with which he devoted himself to his work. Was it not
very touching? Was there not something very creditable in it? Then, on
noticing his joy or suffering, according to the success or the failure
of the day's work, she began to associate herself with his efforts. She
felt saddened when she found him sad, she grew cheerful when he received
her cheerfully; and from that moment her worry was--had he done a lot
of work? was he satisfied with what he had done since they had last seen
each other? At the end of the second month she had been gained over;
she stationed herself before his pictures to judge whether they were
progressing or not. She no longer felt afraid of them. She still did not
approve particularly of that style of painting, but she began to repeat
the artistic expressions which she had heard him use; declared this
bit to be 'vigorous in tone,' 'well built up,' or '