CHAPTER XXV
Three years later, with the approval of Le Brux, Lewis exhibited the"Startled Woman." He did not name it. It named itself. There was nosingle remarkable trait in the handling of the life-size nude figurebeyond its triumph as a whole--its sure impression of alarm.
Leighton came to Paris for his son's debut. When he saw the statue, hesaid:
"It is not great. You are not old enough for that. But it will be asuccess, probably a sensation. What else have you done?"
All the modeling that Lewis had accumulated in the three years of hisapprenticeship was passed in review. Leighton scarcely looked at thecasts. He kept his eyes on Le Brux's face and measured his changingexpression.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Yes," said Lewis.
"Well," said Leighton, "I suggest we destroy the lot. What do you say,Le Brux?"
Le Brux raised his bushy eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and threw outhis hands.
"Eh," he grunted, "it is for the boy to say. Has he the courage? Theyare his offspring."
The two men stood and looked at Lewis. His eyes passed from them to hiswork and back again to Leighton's face.
"You are my father," he said.
"Come on," cried Leighton, without a moment's hesitation, "let us alljoin in the slaughter. Just remember, boy, that it's no more cruel tokill your young than to sell them into slavery."
Three days later all of Paris that counts was talking of the "StartledWoman." The name of Leighton _fils_ was in many mouths and in almost asmany printed paragraphs.
"Leighton _fils_!" cried Lewis. Why _fils_?"
"Paris has a long memory for art, my boy," said Leighton. "Before Ilearned that I could never reach the heights, I raised a small monumenton a foot-hill. They haven't forgotten it, these critics who never die."
Lewis was assailed by dealers. They offered him prices that seemed tohim fabulous. But Leighton listened calmly and said, "Wait." The longerthey waited, the higher climbed the rival dealers. At last came anofficial envelop. "Ah," said Leighton, before Lewis had opened it, "ithas come."
It was an offer from the state. It was lower than the least of thedealers' bids. "That's the prize offer, boy," said Leighton. "Take it."
They went back to London together. Leighton helped Lewis search for astudio. They examined many places, pleasant and unpleasant. FinallyLewis settled on a great, bare, loft-like room within a few minutes'walk of the flat. "This will do," he said.
"Why?" asked Leighton.
"Space," said Lewis. "Le Brux taught me that. One must have space to seebig."
While they were still busy fitting up the atelier a note came to Lewisfrom Lady Derl. She told him to come and see her at once, to bring allhis clippings on the "Startled Woman," and a photograph that would dothe lady more justice than had the newspaper prints.
When Lewis entered Lady Derl's room of light, it seemed to him that hehad not been away from London for a day. The room was unchanged. LadyDerl was unchanged. She did not rise. She held out her hand, and Lewisraised her fingers to his lips.
"How well you do it, Lew!" she said. "Sit down."
He sat down and showed her a photograph of his work. She looked at itlong. For an instant her worldliness dropped from her. She glancedshrewdly at Lewis's face. He met her eyes frankly. Then she tossed thepicture aside.
"You are a nice boy," she said lightly. "I think I'll give a littledinner for you. This time your dad won't object."
"I hope not," said Lewis, smiling. "I'm bigger than he is now."
Both laughed, and then chatted until Leighton came in to join them attea. Lady Derl told him of the dinner. He shrugged his shoulders andasked when it was to be.
"Don't look so bored," said Lady Derl. "I'll get Old Ivory to come, ifyou 're coming. You two always create an atmosphere within an atmospherewhere you can breathe the kind of air you like."
Leighton smiled.
"It's a funny thing," he said. "When Ivory and I meet casually, wesimply nod as though we'd never shared each other's tents; but when weare both caught out in society, we fly together and hobnob likelong-lost brothers. We've made three trips together. Every one of 'emwas planned at some ultra dinner incrusted with hothouse flowers andhothouse women."
"Thanks," said Lady Derl.
Lewis might have been bored by that first formal dinner if he had knownthe difference between women grown under glass and women grown in theopen. But he didn't. With the exception of Ann Leighton, mammy, andNatalie, who were not women at all so much as part and parcel of his ownfiber, women were just women. He treated them all alike, and with agallant nonchalance that astounded his two neighbors, Lady BlancheTrevoy and the Hon. Violet Materlin, accustomed as they were to findyouths of his age stupidly callow or at best, in their innocence, mildlyexciting. Leighton, seated at H lne's left, watched Lewis curiously.
"They've taken to him," said H lne.
"Yes," said Leighton. "Nothing wins a woman of the world so quickly asthe unexpected. The unexpected adds to the ancient lure of curiosity thetouch of tartness that gives life to a jaded palate. Satiated women arethe most grateful for such a fillip, and once a woman's grateful, she'sgenerous. A generous man will give a beggar a copper, but a generouswoman will give away all her coppers, and throw in herself for goodmeasure."
"When you have to try to be clever, Glen, you're a bore," remarkedH lne.
"I'm not trying to be clever," said Leighton. "There's a battle going onover there, and I was merely throwing light on it."
The battle was worth watching. The two young women were as dissimilar asbeauty can be. Both had all the charms of well-nurtured andwell-cared-for flesh. Splendid necks and shoulders, plenty of their ownhair, lovely contour of face, practice in the use of the lot, weretheirs in common. But Vi was dark, still, and long of limb. Blanche wasblonde, vivacious, and compact without being in the least heavy.
Vi spoke slowly. Even for an English woman she had a low voice. It was avoice of peculiar power. One always waited for it to finish. Vi knew itspower. She tormented her opponents by drawling. Blanche also spokesoftly, but at will she could make her words scratch like the sharpclaws of a kitten.
"And how did you ever get the model to take that startled pose?" Blanchewas asking Lewis.
"That's where the luck came in," said Lewis, smiling; "and the luck iswhat keeps the work from being great."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," said Lewis, "Le Brux says that luck often leads to success,never to greatness."
"And how did luck come in?" drawled Vi.
Lewis smiled again.
"I'll tell you," he said. "The model is an old pal of mine. One day wewere bathing in the Marne,--at least I was bathing, and she was justgoing to,--when a farmer appeared on the scene and yelled at her. Shewas startled and turning to make a run for it when I shouted, 'Hold thatpose, Cellette! She's a mighty well-trained model. For a second she heldthe pose. That was enough. She remembered it ever after.
"Does it take a lot of training to be a model?" asked Blanche. "Howwould I do?" She turned her bare shoulders frankly to him.
Lewis glanced at her. "Yours is not a beauty that can be held in stone,"he said. "You are too respectable for a bacchante, too vivacious foranything else." He turned to Vi. "You would do better," he said asthough she too had asked.
Vi said nothing, but her large, dark eyes suddenly looked away andbeyond the room. A flush rose slowly into her smooth, dusky cheek.Blanche bit her under lip.
"Vi has won out," said H lne to Leighton.