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foot； and began to look at himself like a child。 He purchased perfumes
and pomades； hired the first elegant suite of apartments with mirrors
and plateglass windows which he came across in the Nevsky Prospect；
without haggling about the price； bought； on the impulse of the
moment； a costly eye…glass； bought； also on the impulse； a number of
neckties of every description； many more than he needed； had his hair
curled at the hairdresser's； rode through the city twice without any
object whatever； ate an immense quantity of sweetmeats at the
confectioner's； and went to the French Restaurant； of which he had
heard rumours as indistinct as though they had concerned the Empire of
China。 There he dined； casting proud glances at the other visitors；
and continually arranging his curls in the glass。 There he drank a
bottle of champagne； which had been known to him hitherto only by
hearsay。 The wine rather affected his head； and he emerged into the
street； lively； pugnacious； and ready to raise the Devil； according to
the Russian expression。 He strutted along the pavement； levelling his
eye…glass at everybody。 On the bridge he caught sight of his former
professor； and slipped past him neatly； as if he did not see him； so
that the astounded professor stood stock…still on the bridge for a
long time； with a face suggestive of a note of interrogation。
All his goods and chattels； everything he owned； easels； canvas；
pictures； were transported that same evening to his elegant quarters。
He arranged the best of them in conspicuous places； threw the worst
into a corner； and promenaded up and down the handsome rooms； glancing
constantly in the mirrors。 An unconquerable desire to take the bull by
the horns； and show himself to the world at once； had arisen in his
mind。 He already heard the shouts； 〃Tchartkoff！ Tchartkoff！ Tchartkoff
paints！ What talent Tchartkoff has！〃 He paced the room in a state of
rapture。
The next day he took ten ducats； and went to the editor of a popular
journal asking his charitable assistance。 He was joyfully received by
the journalist； who called him on the spot； 〃Most respected sir；〃
squeezed both his hands； and made minute inquiries as to his name；
birthplace； residence。 The next day there appeared in the journal；
below a notice of some newly invented tallow candles； an article with
the following heading：
〃TCHARTKOFF'S IMMENSE TALENT
〃We hasten to delight the cultivated inhabitants of the capital with a
discovery which we may call splendid in every respect。 All are agreed
that there are among us many very handsome faces； but hitherto there
has been no means of committing them to canvas for transmission to
posterity。 This want has now been supplied： an artist has been found
who unites in himself all desirable qualities。 The beauty can now feel
assured that she will be depicted with all the grace of her charms；
airy； fascinating； butterfly…like； flitting among the flowers of
spring。 The stately father of a family can see himself surrounded by
his family。 Merchant； warrior； citizen； statesmanhasten one and all；
wherever you may be。 The artist's magnificent establishment ＇Nevsky
Prospect； such and such a number＇ is hung with portraits from his
brush； worthy of Van Dyck or Titian。 We do not know which to admire
most； their truth and likeness to the originals； or the wonderful
brilliancy and freshness of the colouring。 Hail to you； artist！ you
have drawn a lucky number in the lottery。 Long live Andrei
Petrovitch！〃 （The journalist evidently liked familiarity。） 〃Glorify
yourself and us。 We know how to prize you。 Universal popularity； and
with it wealth； will be your meed； though some of our brother
journalists may rise against you。〃
The artist read this article with secret satisfaction； his face
beamed。 He was mentioned in print； it was a novelty to him： he read
the lines over several times。 The comparison with Van Dyck and Titian
flattered him extremely。 The praise； 〃Long live Andrei Petrovitch；〃
also pleased him greatly： to be spoken of by his Christian name and
patronymic in print was an honour hitherto totally unknown to him。 He
began to pace the chamber briskly； now he sat down in an armchair； now
he sprang up； and seated himself on the sofa； planning each moment how
he would receive visitors； male and female； he went to his canvas and
made a rapid sweep of the brush； endeavouring to impart a graceful
movement to his hand。
The next day； the bell at his door rang。 He hastened to open it。 A
lady entered； accompanied by a girl of eighteen； her daughter； and
followed by a lackey in a furred livery…coat。
〃You are the painter Tchartkoff？〃
The artist bowed。
〃A great deal is written about you： your portraits； it is said； are
the height of perfection。〃 So saying； the lady raised her glass to her
eyes and glanced rapidly over the walls； upon which nothing was
hanging。 〃But where are your portraits？〃
〃They have been taken away〃 replied the artist； somewhat confusedly：
〃I have but just moved into these apartments； so they are still on the
road； they have not arrived。〃
〃You have been in Italy？〃 asked the lady； levelling her glass at him；
as she found nothing else to point it at。
〃No； I have not been there； but I wish to go； and I have deferred it
for a while。 Here is an arm…chair； madame： you are fatigued？〃
〃Thank you： I have been sitting a long time in the carriage。 Ah； at
last I behold your work！〃 said the lady； running to the opposite wall；
and bringing her glass to bear upon his studies； sketches； views and
portraits which were standing there on the floor。 〃It is charming。
Lise！ Lise； come here。 Rooms in the style of Teniers。 Do you see？
Disorder； disorder； a table with a bust upon it； a hand； a palette；
dust； see how the dust is painted！ It is charming。 And here on this
canvas is a woman washing her face。 What a pretty face！ Ah！ a little
muzhik！ So you do not devote yourself exclusively to portraits？〃
〃Oh！ that is mere rubbish。 I was trying experiments； studies。〃
〃Tell me your opinion of the portrait painters of the present day。 Is
it not true that there are none now like Titian？ There is not that
strength of colour； thatthat What a pity that I cannot express
myself in Russian。〃 The lady was fond of paintings； and had gone
through all the galleries in Italy with her eye…glass。 〃But Monsieur
Nohlah； how well he paints！ what remarkable work！ I think his faces
have been more expression than Titian's。 You do not know Monsieur
Nohl？〃
〃Who is Nohl？〃 inquired the artist。
〃Monsieur Nohl。 Ah； what talent！ He painted her portrait when she was
only twelve years old。 You must certainly come to see us。 Lise； you
shall show him your album。 You know； we came expressly that you might
begin her portrait immediately。〃
〃What？ I am ready this very moment。〃 And in a trice he pulled forward
an easel with a canvas already prepared； grasped his palette； and
fixed his eyes on the daughter's pretty little face。 If he had been
acquainted with human nature； he might have read in it the dawning of
a childish passion for balls； the dawning of sorrow and misery at the
length of time before dinner and after dinner； the heavy traces of
uninterested application to various arts； insisted upon by her mother
for the elevation of her mind。 But the artist saw only the tender
little face； a seductive subject for his brush； the body almost as
transparent as porcelain； the delicate white neck； and the
aristocratically slender form。 And he prepared beforehand to triumph；
to display the delicacy of his brush； which had hitherto had to deal
only with the harsh features of coarse models； and severe antiques and
copies of classic masters。 He already saw in fancy how this delicate
little face would turn out。
〃Do you know；〃 said the lady with a positively touching expression of
countenance； 〃I should like her to be painted simply attired； and
seated among green shadows； like meadows； with a flock or a grove in
the distance； so that it could not be seen that she goes to balls or
fashionable entertainments。 Our balls； I must confess； murder the
intellect； deaden all remnants of feeling。 Simplicity！ would there
were more simplicity！〃 Alas； it was stamped on the faces of mother and
daughter that they had so overdanced themselves at balls that they had
become almost wax figures。
Tchartkoff set to work； posed his model； reflected a bit； fixed upon
the idea； waved his brush in the air； settling the points mentally；
and then began and finished the sketching in within an hour。 Satisfied
with it； he began to paint。 The task fascinated him； he forgot
everything； forgot the very existence of the aristocratic ladies；
began even to display some artistic tricks； uttering various odd
sounds and humming to himself now and then as artists do when immersed
heart and soul in their work。 Without the slightest ceremony； he made