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"Well, I'm prepared to bring you a father, mother, and only daughter."

"All for me?"



"Yes--they want their portraits taken. These bourgeois--they are crazy

about art--have never dared to enter a studio. The girl has a 'dot' of



a hundred thousand francs. You can paint all three,--perhaps they'll

turn out family portraits."



And with that the old Dutch log of wood who passed for a man and who

was called Elie Magus, interrupted himself to laugh an uncanny laugh



which frightened the painter. He fancied he heard Mephistopheles

talking marriage.



"Portraits bring five hundred francs apiece," went on Elie; "so you

can very well afford to paint me three pictures."



"True for you!" cried Fougeres, gleefully.

"And if you marry the girl, you won't forget me."



"Marry! I?" cried Pierre Grassou,--"I, who have a habit of sleeping

alone; and get up at cock-crow, and all my life arranged--"



"One hundred thousand francs," said Magus, "and a quiet girl, full of

golden tones, as you call 'em, like a Titian."



"What class of people are they?"

"Retired merchants; just now in love with art; have a country-house at



Ville d'Avray, and ten or twelve thousand francs a year."

"What business did they do?"



"Bottles."

"Now don't say that word; it makes me think of corks and sets my teeth



on edge."

"Am I to bring them?"



"Three portraits--I could put them in the Salon; I might go in for

portrait-painting. Well, yes!"



Old Elie descended the staircase to go in search of the Vervelle

family. To know to what extend this proposition would act upon the



painter, and what effect would be produced upon him by the Sieur and

Dame Vervelle, adorned by their only daughter, it is necessary to cast



an eye on the anterior life of Pierre Grassou of Fougeres.

When a pupil, Fougeres had studieddrawing with Servin, who was



thought a great draughtsman in academic circles. After that he went to

Schinner's, to learn the secrets of the powerful and magnificent color



which distinguishes that master. Master and scholars were all

discreet; at any rate Pierre discovered none of their secrets. From



there he went to Sommervieux' atelier, to acquire that portion of the

art of painting which is called composition, but composition was shy



and distant to him. Then he tried to snatch from Decamps and Granet

the mystery of their interior effects. The two masters were not



robbed. Finally Fougeres ended his education with Duval-Lecamus.

During these studied and these different transformations Fougeres'



habits and ways of life were tranquil and moral to a degree that

furnished matter of jesting to the various ateliers where he



sojourned; but everywhere he disarmed his comrades by his modesty and

by the patience and gentleness of a lamblike nature. The masters,



however, had no sympathy for the good lad; masters prefer bright

fellows, eccentric spirits, droll or fiery, or else gloomy and deeply



reflective, which argue future talent. Everything about Pierre Grassou

smacked of mediocrity. His nickname "Fougeres" (that of the painter in



the play of "The Eglantine") was the source of much teasing; but, by

force of circumstances, he accepted the name of the town in which he



had first seen light.

Grassou of Fougeres resembled his name. Plump and of mediumheight, he



had a dull complexion, brown eyes, black hair, a turned-up nose,

rather wide mouth, and long ears. His gentle, passive, and resigned



air gave a certain relief to these leading features of a physiognomy

that was full of health, but wanting in action. This young man, born



to be a virtuous bourgeois, having left his native place and come to

Paris to be clerk with a color-merchant (formerly of Mayenne and a



distant connection of the Orgemonts) made himself a painter simply by

the fact of an obstinacy which constitutes the Breton character. What



he suffered, the manner in which he lived during those years of study,

God only knows. He suffered as much as great men suffer when they are



hounded by poverty and hunted like wild beasts by the pack of

commonplace minds and by troops of vanities athirst for vengeance.



As soon as he thought himself able to fly on his own wings, Fougeres

took a studio in the upper part of the rue des Martyrs, where he began



to delve his way. He made his first appearance in 1819. The first

picture he presented to the jury of the Exhibition at the Louvre






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