While her brother was on the move, Mademoiselle Fran de Treville, as usual, rode in her carriage to the studio of the renowned painter Karl Durrenburg and began his current studies in painting.

As the name suggests, the painter was German.

The most common occupations of Germans of this era when they came to Paris were musicians and painters – certainly too good to be the murderous and robbers in military uniforms who would have gone back and forth decades later.

Among the German painters in Paris, Monsieur Durrenburg was the most prominent, and after years of struggle he had made a name for himself in the Parisian art world and was respected for his integrity. Over time, his studio became the best place for upper-class ladies to learn to paint.

And the standard for accepting students is also very strict, if you are only rich, you will not be able to become his disciple anyway.

And all the ladies who have studied painting with him are unanimously recognized as women who can approve the museum's collection of paintings and can draw excellent portraits—in a word, the kind of woman who really has a sense of appreciation, a woman who can add value.

For those girls who just want to become artists or become famous, but have no talent or have not received the most basic technical training, society at this time is not tolerant enough to provide talent shows to satisfy their wishes.

There are large lattice glass windows on the side of the studio to facilitate lighting, but at this time, the summer sun is too strong and most of it is blocked by dark flannel curtains; The walls are filled with frames without canvases or canvases that are not framed, and the walls and floors are dyed with various pigments; Plaster statues, instruments and even armor are piled up everywhere, giving it a backstage feel like an opera house.

Now that the husband had not yet arrived, the female students began their own drawing practice as usual. The girls have their own beauty and manners, and their costumes are also different, and the sunlight shines into the studio through the flannel cloth, creating a variety of contrasts and strong light and dark effects.

For any first-time visitor to the studio, the scene itself is worth painting.

However, visitors may be surprised if they have the opportunity to stay here for a long time and experience the fiery undercurrents hidden in the superficially gorgeous studios.

That's right, there is no essential difference between a 19th-century studio and a 21st-century classroom, and there is no essential difference between a girl from a wealthy family and a girl from an ordinary family. The schoolgirls find their own circles and partners according to a set of rules in their hearts, and at the same time delineate their opponents and enemies, until Zuihou, these small circles confront each other and exclude each other - this is both an instinct and a way to have fun for the girl.

In the studio, the status and wealth of the fathers and grandparents should have been forgotten the most. However, here, the status and wealth of the parents and grandparents have become the ultimate basis for the girls to draw camps and circles.

The girls were divided into two distinct groups, separated from each other by a distance that seemed short but seemed to be impassable for life.

On one side were the daughters of the nouveau riche bourgeois, bankers, notaries or merchants, all rich, talking merrily, with lively expressions on their faces.

On one side are the young ladies from the old aristocratic families, their expressions are much more dignified, the conversation is relatively simple, and there is no excessive expression, and from time to time they cast all kinds of sharp and hidden attitudes at the other group (but they can just be felt by the other party!). Eyes of contempt.

The present situation and future of the two ruling classes in France can be so vividly reflected in a single studio.

These young ladies are all elegant and charming, but there is a lack of directness in their eyes. Strict education has long since turned politeness into an instinct, but childishness has slowly been eroded - the innocence of children has become more and more distant from them.

Of course, society has not yet fully assimilated them because of their age, so they can occasionally show a truly holy smile and reveal the true nature of a child—a quality that only God knows how long it will last.

Fran did not get involved in the battle between the aristocracy and the bankers, and as usual, she chose to run to her corner and quietly continue to paint the painting she had not finished yesterday—a battleship in a storm, with the captain standing at the bow, directing the crew to fight the wind and waves, while observing the distant scene with a telescope.

She forgot the whispers next to her and indulged in the passion of creation, and when she drew a zuihou stroke and outlined the dark clouds of the storm, she breathed a long sigh of relief, like those dedicated artists.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" A low exclamation rang in her ears.

"Huh?" Surprised, she quickly turned her head, and her long blonde hair shook with it.

Matilda de Dilillion, looking at herself, was dressed in a long dress embroidered with lace and holding her gold glasses in her left hand.

She was one of the leaders of the aristocratic party in the studio, as her grandfather, the Count of Dilliion, was now the Lord of the Seals of King Bixia.

Her eyes were dark and moist, her hair was light brown, the corners of her eyes were slender, and her face looked very serious, and she didn't talk much. She is two years older than Fran and is seventeen years old this year.

[The French Minister of the Seals was originally the minister responsible for the custody of the state seal for the king, but later evolved into an important official position. This position is usually held by the king's close attendants and staff. 】

She leaned over and took a closer look at Fran's freshly finished painting. "The composition is good, the colors are used very well, and it is a rare and good work—Miss Treville, you have just finished a beautiful one. You are indeed the most admired student of Mr. Duremburg......"

"Xiexie, you've won the prize." Fran's face turned a little red.

"Don't be modest, I'm complimenting you from the bottom of my heart." Although it was a compliment, Matilda's face was still very serious. "I'm not going to try to please you."

Fran lowered her head, but she was wondering if the other party was coming to her.

"I guess you're wondering if I'm coming to you suddenly." Matilda's lips twinked into a nonchalant smile.

"Yes." Fran replied in a low voice, "There aren't many people who usually come to talk to me. ”

"You're the prettiest among us, and that's enough for some people to hate for fifty years." Matilda still had that vague smile, "Not to mention your grandfather......"

"Then you're coming to me today! Aren't you worried about being angered by someone? Hearing the other party talk about her grandfather, Fran interrupted her directly, almost forgetting to suppress her voice.

After a moment, she regretted her gaffe slightly.

What would she do to me? Will she continue to taunt, or will she call her friends to bully her? What to do?

The first and most important lesson a young girl learns when she steps into high society is to hide her hatred. Fran remembered what her brother had said.

My brother's words always make so much sense.

Matilda's reaction, however, was much more than Fran expected, and she just pouted her lips slightly, smiled helplessly, and shook her head gently. "Well, I'm not here today to talk about the position, it's just an afterglow for our fathers and grandparents – we have ours."

Fran looked at each other quizzically.

"You miss Mary, don't you?" Matilda looked at Fran, "Don't be in a hurry to deny it, dear young lady, I can see that you treat her as a good friend, and you have missed her very much during this time. ”

Fran lowered her head slightly. "Yes, I miss her so much."

"It's good, we're finally on the same page." Matilda nodded, "She's probably the most dear of us, and I'm so respectful and kind to everyone, I like her a lot." But fate caused her to suffer such a calamity......"

Fran still had her head down.

"Of course, sighing can't save anyone, action is talented." Matilda continued with a surprisingly calm voice, "I decided to bring her back, and I'm sure you'll want to do the same." ”

Fran looked up and looked at Matilda in amazement.

With graceful movements, Matilda gently lifted her long-handled glasses with her left hand, holding them horizontally in front of her eyes, and then staring at Fran through the frame.

"I'm surprised, I'm not as impersonal as I seem." She paused for a moment, then continued, "A century ago, our ancestors had no choice but to bow down and go to the monastery for the rest of their lives. But a century from now, we will always be much better than our predecessors – at least the education of the new age has given us a mind other than God in our heads......"

"I'm going to do it for Mary Xiexie you!" An alliance was discovered, much to Fran's excitement.

Fran then told Matilda what she had asked her brother for.

"I was not mistaken." Matilda smiled with relief—the kind of smile that was genuine. "However, your brother alone may not be able to impress the Marquis de léoland to make this a ......"

"He'll be able to do it." Fran interrupted again.

"Well, I hope so." Matilda nodded, apparently relieved by Fran's determination, "I believe he, a man with a surname like de Treville, knows what he has to do and what he can do. However, if there is anything you need my help with, please let me know directly and I will definitely do it. ”

Fran nodded.

Seeing that her plan was so smooth, even a girl like Matilda, who had always been moody, couldn't help but be a little happy, and in order to divert the unnecessary excitement, she continued to take a closer look at Fran's freshly finished painting with her glasses.

"What a masterpiece!" She sighed again, then turned to look at Fran, "With all due respect, which famous figure in history is the captain in this painting?" Or is it a fictional image in your head? ”

Fran's answer this time was extremely brief.

"My brother."

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