Now take that picture over there. Hester pointed to a canvas on which were depicted a waterfall, a ruined castle, and a rustic bridge on which trudged a milkmaid bearing a pail. It was perhaps the tenth occasion on which Mary had been invited to regard it appreciatively. That picture, Hester went on, was presented to papa by a gentleman for whom he had built a house. It is, she added impressively, a Ridgeway Knight.
Très, très beau, Orville pronounced. I have always admired it.
Very pretty, Mary managed to stammer. If you are so much interested in art, perhaps I can persuade you to visit my exhibition of African sculpture.
What's that? Mrs. Albright demanded.
An exhibition at the library, mother. Hester turned to Mary: African sculpture! That dreadful, vulgar stuff!
I think it's very wonderful, said Mary, perhaps a little warmly.
You don't have to yell at me. I can hear you, Mrs. Albright shrieked almost savagely. Like most deaf persons she hated to have visitors raise their voices.
It's the work of heathen savages, Hester protested hotly, and it has nothing to do with art.
Sauvages! translated Orville emphatically. Sauvages!
They were our ancestors, Mary asserted.
