“Well! she would like that ‘some day’ to be now, and she has a reason for wanting it at once, which, I hope, will decide you to gratify her.  The third of June is Sainte-Clotilde’s day, and she has taken it into her head that she would like to give her mamma a magnificent present—­a present that, of course, we shall unite to give her.  For some time past I have been thinking of asking you to paint a portrait of my daughter,” continued M. de Nailles, who had in fact had no more wish for the portrait than he had had to be a deputy, until it had been put into his head.  But the women of his household, little or big, could persuade him into anything.

“I really don’t think I have the time now,” said Marien.

“Bah!—­you have whole two months before you.  What can absorb you so entirely?  I know you have your pictures ready for the Salon.”

“Yes—­of course—­of course—­but are you sure that Madame de Nailles would approve of it?”

“She will approve whatever I sanction,” said M. de Nailles, with as much assurance as if he had been master in his domestic circle; “besides, we don’t intend to ask her.  It is to be a surprise.  Jacqueline is looking forward to the pleasure it will give her.  There is something very touching to me in the affection of that little thing for—­for her mother.”  M. de Nailles usually hesitated a moment before saying that word, as if he were afraid of transferring something still belonging to his dead wife to another—­that dead wife he so seldom remembered in any other way.  He added, “She is so eager to give her pleasure.”

Marien shook his head with an air of uncertainty.

“Are you sure that such a portrait would be really acceptable to Madame de Nailles?”

“How can you doubt it?” said the Baron, with much astonishment.  “A portrait of her daughter!—­done by a great master?  However, of course, if we are putting you to any inconvenience—­if you would rather not undertake it, you had better say so.”

“No—­of course I will do it, if you wish it,” said Marien, quickly, who, although he was anxious to do nothing to displease Madame de Nailles, was equally desirous to stand well with her husband.  “Yet I own that all the mystery that must attend on what you propose may put me to some embarrassment.  How do you expect Jacqueline will be able to conceal—­”

“Oh! easily enough.  She walks out every day with Mademoiselle Schult.  Well, Mademoiselle Schult will bring her to your studio instead of taking her to the Champs Elysees—­or to walk elsewhere.”

“But every day there will be concealments, falsehoods, deceptions.  I think Madame de Nailles might prefer to be asked for her permission.”

“Ask for her permission when I have given mine?  Ah, fa! my dear Marien, am I, or am I not, the father, of Jacqueline?  I take upon myself the whole responsibility.”

“Then there is nothing more to be said.  But do you think that Jacqueline will keep the secret till the picture is done?”