Free Miss Cresswell's London Triumph by Evelyn Richardson Page B

years of study he had only found one person who shared his passion for antiquity—the Comte de Vaudron. For Horace, misunderstood by his family and ignored by his peers, this friendship had provided the most rewarding companionship he had ever known. Now here was someone his own age who, in addition to understanding his enthusiasm, entered into it as wholeheartedly as he. To Horace such a state of affairs was nothing short of a miracle and he regarded Cassie with a mixture of reverence and awe that he had never felt before in his life.
    "Ah, yes." Cassie's brows cleared and she replied, "I regret that I agree with the comte, Horace. Surely this figure is that of a girl handing the new peplos, woven to cover the image of Athena, to a magistrate. I am sorry to disagree with you." Here Cassie flashed such a charming, apologetic smile at the young man sitting at her feet that it quite took his breath away. The admiration he'd felt toward a revered scholar's daughter suddenly metamorphosed into something more potent, and for the first time he was fully aware of Cassandra as a beautiful, vital woman. He sat stunned by the intensity of these new emotions.
    Meanwhile, Cassie, oblivious to the powerful effect she was having, turned to the comte for confirmation of her theory as she speculated, "It is true that the figure could be either male or female, but the form looks to be more feminine, don't you think?"
    The comte smiled at his protege. "I had not previously thought of that as being the peplos, but that is an excellent interpretation. I quite agree with you ma chere. "He was looking at Cassie as he answered, but as his glance fell on Horace, transfixed by his private revelations, the smile deepened to one of amused contemplation. Aha, we have here the beginning of a passion for something other than the dust of antiquity, he muttered silently to himself. Such a situation will bear some watching.
    Cassie took up a pen, looking expectantly at the comte. "How would you wish this described in the catalog, then?"
    He waved a hand toward the manuscript of the catalog, responding airily, "Oh, I absolutely leave it to you, ma chere, as your reasoning behind your attribution of it as the Panathenaic procession has far more merit than our humble interpretations. Write what you wish." Turning to Horace with an impish twinkle, he remarked, "This Cassie is a scholar, non? I warned you she would put us on our mettle." A blank look was all the response he elicited, so he continued, "We must not get on our high ropes merely because she arrives and answers in a few minutes the question that has been dominating our discussion the entire morning, hein?"
    "Yeeeeeees," Horace responded vaguely as he slowly returned to reality. He continued in a more punctilious tone, "But surely we should discuss this with others who are equally well read in these matters. It would be most disadvantageous to put forth such an interpretation without having consulted many more sources and explored every avenue of thought in a work that is to serve as a guide for future generations."
    "Relax, mon brave," adjured the comte. "Who is more well informed than we? Who has spent more time with these chefs d'oeuvres than we? Remember"—he held up a cautionary hand—"the best, most judicious interpretations are those that mingle instinct with learning, and emotion with intellect. Cassandra and I looked at the figure presenting the object and both of us instinctively felt it was a girl. This then led us to the more refined and rational conclusion that it was a peplos that was being offered. You, on the other hand, looked at the procession and, applying only your knowledge, assumed the procession to be dominantly male and therefore could not explain the reason for such a procession or interpret the identity of the object. This is not to say, of course, that ours is necessarily the correct interpretation," he continued fair-mindedly, "but our trust in our immediate responses gave