After Dark

by Wilkie Collins

  PROLOGUE TO THE THIRD STORY.

  It was a sad day for me when Mr. Lanfray, of Rockleigh Place,discovering that his youngest daughter's health required a warm climate,removed from his English establishment to the South of France.Roving from place to place, as I am obliged to do, though I make manyacquaintances, I keep but few friends. The nature of my calling is, Iam quite aware, mainly answerable for this. People cannot be blamed forforgetting a man who, on leaving their houses, never can tell them forcertain when he is likely to be in their neighborhood again.

  Mr. Lanfray was one of the few exceptional persons who always rememberedme. I have proofs of his friendly interest in my welfare in the shapeof letters which I treasure with grateful care. The last of these is aninvitation to his house in the South of France. There is little chanceat present of my being able to profit by his kindness; but I like toread his invitation from time to time, for it makes me fancy, in myhappier moments, that I may one day really be able to accept it.

  My introduction to this gentleman, in my capacity of portrait-painter,did not promise much for me in a professional point of view. I wasinvited to Rockleigh--or to "The Place," as it was more frequentlycalled among the people of the county--to take a likeness inwater-colors, on a small scale, of the French governess who lived withMr. Lanfray's daughters. My first idea on hearing of this was, that thegoverness was about to leave her situation, and that her pupils wishedto have a memorial of her in the shape of a portrait. Subsequentinquiry, however, informed me that I was in error. It was the eldest ofMr. Lanfray's daughters, who was on the point of leaving the house toaccompany her husband to India; and it was for her that the portraithad been ordered as a home remembrance of her best and dearest friend.Besides these particulars, I discovered that the governess, thoughstill called "mademoiselle," was an old lady; that Mr. Lanfray had beenintroduced to her many years since in France, after the death of hiswife; that she was absolute mistress in the house; and that her threepupils had always looked up to her as a second mother, from the timewhen their father first placed them under her charge.

  These scraps of information made me rather anxious to see MademoiselleClairfait, the governess.

  On the day appointed for my attendance at the comfortable country houseof Rockleigh, I was detained on the road, and did not arrive at mydestination until late in the evening. The welcome accorded to me byMr. Lanfray gave an earnest of the unvarying kindness that I was toexperience at his hands in after-life. I was received at once on equalterms, as if I had been a friend of the family, and was presented thesame evening to my host's daughters. They were not merely three elegantand attractive young women, but--what means much more than that--threeadmirable subjects for pictures, the bride particularly. Her younghusband did not strike me much at first sight; he seemed rather shyand silent. After I had been introduced to him, I looked round forMademoiselle Clairfait, but she was not present; and I was soonafterward informed by Mr. Lanfray that she always spent the latter partof the evening in her own room.

  At the breakfast-table the next morning, I again looked for my sitter,and once more in vain. "Mamma, as we call her," said one of the ladies,"is dressing expressly for her picture, Mr. Kerby. I hope you arenot above painting silk, lace, and jewelry. The dear old lady, who isperfection in everything else, is perfection also in dress, and is benton being painted in all her splendor."

  This explanation prepared me for something extraordinary; but I foundthat my anticipations had fallen far below the reality when MademoiselleClairfait at last made her appearance, and announced that she was readyto sit for her portrait.

  Never before or since have I seen such perfect dressing and such activeold age in combination. "Mademoiselle" was short and thin; her facewas perfectly white all over, the skin being puckered up in an infinitevariety of the smallest possible wrinkles. Her bright black eyes wereperfect marvels of youthfulness and vivacity. They sparkled, and beamed,and ogled, and moved about over everybody and everything at such a rate,that the plain gray hair above them looked unnaturally venerable, andthe wrinkles below an artful piece of masquerade to represent old age.As for her dress, I remember few harder pieces of work than the paintingof it. She wore a silver-gray silk gown that seemed always flashing outinto some new light whenever she moved. It was as stiff as a board,and rustled like the wind. Her head, neck, and bosom were enveloped inclouds of the airiest-looking lace I ever saw, disposed about each partof her with the most exquisite grace and propriety, and glistening atall sorts of unexpected places with little fairy-like toys in gold andprecious stones. On her right wrist she wore three small bracelets,with the hair of her three pupils worked into them; and on her left, onelarge bracelet with a miniature let in over the clasp. She had a darkcrimson and gold scarf thrown coquettishly over her shoulders, andheld a lovely little feather-fan in her hand. When she first presentedherself before me in this costume, with a brisk courtesy and a brightsmile, filling the room with perfume, and gracefully flirting thefeather-fan, I lost all confidence in my powers as a portrait-painterimmediately. The brightest colors in my box looked dowdy and dim, and Imyself felt like an unwashed, unbrushed, unpresentable sloven.

  "Tell me, my angels," said mademoiselle, apostrophizing her pupilsin the prettiest foreign English, "am I the cream of all creams thismorning? Do I carry my sixty years resplendently? Will the savages inIndia, when my own love exhibits my picture among them, say, 'Ah! smart!smart! this was a great dandy?' And the gentleman, the skillful artist,whom it is even more an honor than a happiness to meet, does he approveof me for a model? Does he find me pretty and paintable from top totoe?" Here she dropped me another brisk courtesy, placed herself ina languishing position in the sitter's chair, and asked us all if shelooked like a shepherdess in Dresden china.

  The young ladies burst out laughing, and mademoiselle, as gay as any ofthem and a great deal shriller, joined in the merriment. Never beforehad I contended with any sitter half as restless as that wonderfulold lady. No sooner had I begun than she jumped out of the chair, andexclaiming, "_Grand Dieu!_ I have forgotten to embrace my angels thismorning," ran up to her pupils, raised herself on tiptoe before themin quick succession, put the two first fingers of each hand under theirears, kissed them lightly on both cheeks, and was back again in thechair before an English governess could have said, "Good-morning, mydears, I hope you all slept well last night."

  I began again. Up jumped mademoiselle for the second time, and trippedacross the room to a cheval-glass. "No!" I heard her say to herself, "Ihave not discomposed my head in kissing my angels. I may come back andpose for my picture."

  Back she came. I worked from her for five minutes at the most. "Stop!"cries mademoiselle, jumping up for the third time; "I must see how thisskillful artist is getting on. _Grand Dieu!_ why he has done nothing!"

  For the fourth time I began, and for the fourth time the old ladystarted out of her chair. "Now I must repose myself," said mademoiselle,walking lightly from end to end of the room, and humming a French air,by way of taking a rest.

  I was at my wit's end, and the young ladies saw it. They all surroundedmy unmanageable sitter, and appealed to her compassion for me."Certainly!" said mademoiselle, expressing astonishment by flingingup both her hands with all the fingers spread out in the air. "But whyapostrophize me thus? I am here, I am ready, I am at the service of thisskillful artist. Why apostrophize me?"

  A fortunate chance question of mine steadied her for some time. Iinquired if I was expected to draw the whole of my sitter's figure aswell as her face. Mademoiselle replied by a comic scream of indignation.If I was the brave and gifted man for whom she took me, I ought to beready to perish rather than leave out an inch of her anywhere. Dress washer passion, and it would be an outrage on her sentiments if I did notdo full justice to everything she had on--to her robe, to her lace, toher scarf, to her fan, to her rings, her jewels, and, above all, to herbracelets. I groaned in spirit at the task before me, but made my bestbow of acquiescence. Mademoiselle was not to be satisfied
by a mere bow;she desired the pleasure of specially directing my attention, if I wouldbe so amiable as to get up and approach her, to one of her bracelets inparticular--the bracelet with the miniature, on her left wrist. It hadbeen the gift of the dearest friend she ever had, and the miniaturerepresented that friend's beloved and beautiful face. Could I makea tiny, tiny copy of that likeness in my drawing! Would I only be soobliging as to approach for one little moment, and see if such a thingwere possible?

  I obeyed unwillingly enough, expecting, from mademoiselle's expression,to see a commonplace portrait of some unfortunate admirer whom shehad treated with unmerited severity in the days of her youth. To myastonishment, I found that the miniature, which was very beautifullypainted, represented a woman's face--a young woman with kind, sad eyes,pale, delicate cheeks, light hair, and such a pure, tender, lovelyexpressions that I thought of Raphael's Madonnas the moment I looked ather portrait.

  The old lady observed the impression which the miniature produced on me,and nodded her head in silence. "What a beautiful, innocent, pure face!"I said.

  Mademoiselle Clairfait gently brushed a particle of dust from theminiature with her handkerchief, and kissed it. "I have three angelsstill left," she said, looking at her pupils. "They console me for thefourth, who has gone to heaven."

  She patted the face on the miniature gently with her little, withered,white fingers, as if it had been a living thing. _"Sister Rose!"_ shesighed to herself; then, looking up again at me, said, "I should like itput into my portrait, sir, because I have always worn it since I was ayoung woman, for 'Sister Rose's' sake."

  The sudden change in her manner, from the extreme of flighty gayety tothe extreme of quiet sadness, would have looked theatrical in a woman ofany other nation. It seemed, however, perfectly natural and appropriatein her. I went back to my drawing, rather perplexed. Who was "SisterRose"? Not one of the Lanfray family, apparently. The composure of theyoung ladies when the name was mentioned showed plainly enough that theoriginal of the miniature had been no relation of theirs.

  I tried to stifle my curiosity on the subject of Sister Rose, by givingmyself entirely to my work. For a full half-hour, Mademoiselle Clairfaitsat quietly before me, with her hands crossed on her lap, and her eyesfixed on the bracelet. This happy alteration enabled me to do somethingtoward completing the outline of her face and figure. I might even,under fortunate circumstances, have vanquished the preliminarydifficulties of my task at one effort; but the fates were against methat day. While I was still working rapidly and to my satisfaction,a servant knocked at the door to announce luncheon, and mademoisellelightly roused herself from her serious reflection and her quietposition in a moment.

  "Ah me!" she said, turning the miniature round on her wrist till it wasout of sight. "What animals we are, after all! The spiritual part of usis at the mercy of the stomach. My heart is absorbed by tender thoughts,yet I am not the less ready for luncheon! Come, my children andfellow-mortals. _Allons cultiver notre jardin!"_

  With this quotation from "Candide," plaintively delivered, the old ladyled the way out of the room, and was followed by her younger pupils.The eldest sister remained behind for a moment, and reminded me that thelunch was ready.

  "I am afraid you have found the dear old soul rather an unruly sitter,"she said, noticing the look of dissatisfaction with which I wasregarding my drawing. "But she will improve as you go on. She has donebetter already for the last half-hour, has she not?"

  "Much better," I answered. "My admiration of the miniature on thebracelet seemed--I suppose, by calling up some old associations--to havea strangely soothing effect on Mademoiselle Clairfait."

  "Ah yes! only remind her of the original of that portrait, and youchange her directly, whatever she may have been saying or doing themoment before. Sometimes she talks of _Sister Rose,_ and of all that shewent through in the time of the French Revolution, by the hour together.It is wonderfully interesting--at least we all think so."

  "I presume that the lady described as 'Sister Rose' was a relation ofMademoiselle Clairfait's?"

  "No, only a very dear friend. Mademoiselle Clairfait is the daughterof a silk-mercer, once established at Chalons-sur-Marne. Her fatherhappened to give an asylum in his office to a lonely old man, towhom 'Sister Rose' and her brother had been greatly indebted in therevolutionary time; and out of a train of circumstances connected withthat, the first acquaintance between mademoiselle and the friend whoseportrait she wears, arose. After the time of her father's bankruptcy,and for many years before we were placed under her charge, our good oldgoverness lived entirely with 'Sister Rose' and her brother. She mustthen have heard all the interesting things that she has since oftenrepeated to my sisters and myself."

  "Might I suggest," said I, after an instant's consideration, "that thebest way to give me a fair chance of studying Mademoiselle Clairfait'sface at the next sitting, would be to lead her thoughts again to thatquieting subject of the miniature, and to the events which the portraitrecalls? It is really the only plan, after what I have observed thismorning, that I can think of for enabling me to do myself and my sitterjustice."

  "I am delighted to hear you say so," replied the lady; "for theexecution of your plan, by me or by my sisters, will be the easiestthing in the world. A word from us at any time will set mademoisellethinking, and talking too, of the friend of her youthful days. Dependon our assistance so far. And now let me show you the way to theluncheon-table."