human
Yes, I'm quite ready. But it's you who are to begin, Miss Wyatt. I am to assume the safe and eligible position of art critic. I wish I had some of those fellows who write about my pictures before an easel; I'd stand their unpleasant company a while for the sake of taking the conceit out of them. Not but what my pictures _are_ bad enough,--as bad as any critic says, for that matter. Well, Miss Wyatt; here is the charcoal, and yonder out-doors is the mountain.
gpt
Excuse me a moment. Papa, will our talking disturb you? To Bartlett:
human
I suppose we will have to talk a little?
gpt
A little.
human
It won't disturb me if you don't talk to me.
gpt
We'll try not. To Bartlett:
human
Well?
gpt
May I ask why you chose such a capacious canvas?
human
Why, the mountain being a large object
gpt
A large canvas was necessary, I see. There's reason in that. But were you going to do it life size?
human
Why, no!
gpt
What was your idea?
human
I don't know. I thought--I thought I would have the mountain in the back-ground, with some clouds over it, and a few figures in the foreground, to give it a human interest.
gpt
Yes, that's a good notion. Well, now begin. First get your distance-- No; better strike in a horizon line first. That will keep you right. Draw the line straight across the middle of the canvas. Constance retires a few steps from the canvas, measures its spaces with her eye, and then with a glance at the horizon outside draws. Bartlett, looking over her shoulder:
human
Straight, straight! The line should be straight. Don't you see?
gpt
I meant that for a straight line.
human
Oh! well! Yes! I see. However, now you've got it in, hadn't you better use it for a _curved_ line? Say for that wavering outline of the hills beyond Ponkwasset?
gpt
Why, if you think so, Mr. Bartlett.
human
And I'll just strike in the horizon line here. He draws rapidly, steps back a pace, approaches, and touches Constance's line at different points. Then he gives her the chalk again.
gpt
Now, scratch in the outline of Ponkwasset. Constance begins to draw.
human
Ah! Wait a moment, please. You're not quite getting it. Will you let me? Constance offers him the charcoal, which he declines with a gesture,
gpt
No, no! _You_ must do it. I meant
human
What?
gpt
That if you would allow me to--to--guide your hand
human
Why, of course. Do what you like with it
gpt
Oh!
human
So that you teach it a little of the skill of yours. He gently, and after some delicate hesitations, takes her hand, as it grasps the charcoal, and slowly guides it in forming the outline of the mountain. Constance, in admiration of his cleverness:
gpt
What a delicious touch you have!
human
Yes?
gpt
Oh, yes: I'd give anything if I had your hand!
human
It's at your service always, Miss Wyatt.
gpt
Ah, but I should need your mind, too!
human
Well?
gpt
I couldn't rob you of everything.
human
Oh, divine!
gpt
Do you think so? I didn't suppose I could get it so at once. Is it really good?
human
Who? What? Yes, yes; it isn't bad. Not at all bad. That is
gpt
I thought you liked it. Gravely:
human
Why did you say it was divine?
gpt
Because--I--I--thought so!
human
I'm afraid I don't understand. Shall I let this outline remain for Ponkwasset, or shall I use it for something else?
gpt
Yes, let it remain for Ponkwasset; if it needs changing that can easily be done afterwards. Now block out your middle distance. So! He takes the charcoal from her and draws.
human
Now, then, sketch in your figures.
gpt
How large shall I make them?
human
Oh, as large as you like. How large did you think?
gpt
I don't know. About a foot high.
human
Well, try them.