His soul was thrilled. He
sat till very late, tired out but too happy to move, and when at last he
went to bed he was wide awake; he listened to the manifold noise of Paris.
Next day about tea-time he made his way to the Lion de Belfort, and in a
new street that led out of the Boulevard Raspail found Mrs. Otter. She was
an insignificant woman of thirty, with a provincial air and a deliberately
lady-like manner; she introduced him to her mother. He discovered
presently that she had been studying in Paris for three years and later
that she was separated from her husband. She had in her small drawing-room
one or two portraits which she had painted, and to Philip's inexperience
they seemed extremely accomplished.
"I wonder if I shall ever be able to paint as well as that," he said to
her.
"Oh, I expect so," she replied, not without self-satisfaction. "You can't
expect to do everything all at once, of course."
She was very kind. She gave him the address of a shop where he could get
a portfolio, drawing-paper, and charcoal.
"I shall be going to Amitrano's about nine tomorrow, and if you'll be
there then I'll see that you get a good place and all that sort of thing."
She asked him what he wanted to do, and Philip felt that he should not let
her see how vague he was about the whole matter.
"Well, first I want to learn to draw," he said.
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