CHAPTER XXXII 467
I said first, " Take a chair, Mr. Rivers." But he answered, as he always did, that he could not stay. " Very well," I responded, mentally, " stand if you like; but you shall not go just yet, I am determined: solitude is at least as bad for you as it is for me. I ' ll try if I cannot discover the secret spring of your confidence, and find an aperture in that marble breast through which I can shed one drop of the balm of sympathy."
" Is this portrait like?" I asked bluntly. " Like! Like whom? I did not observe it closely." " You did, Mr. Rivers."
He almost started at my sudden and strange abruptness: he looked at me astonished. " Oh, that is nothing yet," I muttered within. " I don ' t mean to be baffled by a little stiffness on your part; I ' m prepared to go to considerable lengths." I continued, " You observed it closely and distinctly; but I have no objection to your looking at it again," and I rose and placed it in his hand.
" A well-executed picture," he said; " very soft, clear colouring; very graceful and correct drawing."
" Yes, yes; I know all that. But what of the resemblance? Who is it like?" Mastering some hesitation, he answered, " Miss Oliver, I presume."
" Of course. And now, sir, to reward you for the accurate guess, I will promise to paint you a careful and faithful duplicate of this very picture, provided you admit that the gift would be acceptable to you. I don ' t wish to throw away my time and trouble on an offering you would deem worthless."
He continued to gaze at the picture: the longer he looked, the firmer he held it, the more he seemed to covet it. " It is like!" he murmured; " the eye is well managed: the colour, light, expression, are perfect. It smiles!"