“I think I do,” said Toto, rubbing his cheek against a corner of her sealskin jacket, because it was soft and gratified his sensual nature. “I have thought seriously of running away from here, and living by my painting—seriously.”
A look came into his face that astonished her, a look of iron determination or leaden obstinacy, she could not tell which; but it made her feel sure that if he ever did commit such a folly he would adhere to it till he was famous or, a more probable eventuality, dead.
“For” said Toto, “I have got a queer sort of feeling lately: it’s money-hate. It’s awfully funny, for it’s not exactly money-hate, but it’s a want to make money and not spend it. It’s like a man that wants to dig.”
“Here,” thought she, “is the _man_ breaking out; the boy is dying away. Toto will be a great man yet.” Alas for Helen’s thoughts! What woman can ever understand a man? what woman could ever have understood Toto? Otto Struve alone got him in a true focus, but of that anon.
“Besides,” said Toto, still rubbing his cheek softly against the fur, a caress which Helen took to herself, “I feel that I—I want to protect someone, to feed them and work for them, and I haven’t anyone to—protect, for everyone I know is so rich.”
Helen’s eyes became dim. She was just about to say something hopeful in reply, when the old Marquis entered the room, jubilant like a schoolboy going to a treat.
“Now good-by,” said Helen, pressing Toto’s hand. “No, don’t come with me; I’ll find my way. Good-by, M. le Marquis;” and she vanished to say good-by to her hostess and find her coachman, who for the last two hours had been outside shivering in the cold April evening.
As Toto and his companion passed the drawing-room door, the Princesse appeared for a moment and drew the old fellow aside.
“Be sure and take care of my boy, Marquis, and give him good advice.”
“Princesse, be assured,” replied the gentleman of the old school, placing his hand upon his heart, “_I_ will give him good advice; and,” he whispered, “it is all right in that quarter. She called him a genius, and that tickles a young man’s vanity, and I am almost sure kisses passed between them during my absence from the room. I am not a bad judge of these affairs, and I predict——”