Chapter 131

A group of people turned in unison at the sound of approaching footsteps. A young man in his mid–twenties, with pale skin and a slim figure, was making his way toward them. He wore thin–rimmedglasses and a light grey suit that accentuated his slender build. However, after speaking just a fewwords, he coughed into his handkerchief, signaling that he might not be in the best of health.

Fanny froze for a second. “Mr. Finegan?”

The man acknowledged with a nod and asked again, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mrs. Brown, clearly annoyed, recounted the events, which caused the man, Mr. Finegan, to furrowhis brows and address Fanny, “If you’re worried about the crowd, we could stop letting people in.But once they’re here, it doesn’t seem right to send them away, does it?”

Fanny’s face darkened. She wanted to argue but seemed to hold a certain regard for the manbefore her, and reluctantly conceded, “You’re right.”

With a look of resentment, Fanny glanced at Lorna, her eyes sharp with envy.

Very few knew Lorna’s pen name was Lorn. When B. Aster mentioned it, Fanny was startled.

Hearing that B. Aster admired her enough to invite her to help with landscape paintings, Fanny sawan opportunity and crafted a lie that “Lorn had passed away.”

Both Fanny and Lorna had studied landscape painting, and while Fanny’s work was alsocommendable, Lorna had simply gained fame by association. Why should everyone remember Lornand forget Fanny?

She was now a leading figure in the world of landscape art!

She had someone recommend her to B. Aster, who had just begun showing signs of wanting tocollaborate with her. So why was Lorna showing up at the exhibition now?

“Hello, I’m Naylor Finegan.” Naylor turned, coughing into his handkerchief again, “Is this Cordelia?”

Cordelia paused, then nodded, “Yes.”

Naylor smiled, “My father is B. Aster.”

Realization dawned on Cordelia. This was the son of the Painter? She nodded her understanding.

“If there’s anything you don’t understand, I’d be happy to explain,” Naylor offered.

Mrs. Brown was flabbergasted, “Naylor, I know of him. He’s a painter too, right? But he works inoils, doesn’t he?”

Lorna nodded absently. Since entering, she had been looking for an opportunity to inquire about themysterious Painter. And now, seeing Naylor… B. Aster was the Painter?

How on earth did her daughter come to know these people?

First, the renowned pianist Stanton called her Lia, then Calvert, and now she even knew the famousdrawing master? Mrs. Brown felt she had underestimated the Delaney family.

Walking with Lorna, she had sensed that the woman was not as the rumors suggested. SeeingNaylor’s courteous interaction with Cordelia, Mrs. Brown realized Lorna and her daughter are bothbig figures, why out of her league.

The Delaney family had such an impressive figure, able to converse with the giants of theWatercolor Painting world.

Mrs. Brown’s newfound appreciation for Lorna quickly transformed into deep admiration While she was still in shock, Cordelia spoke up, “No need, my mom will explain for me.”

Then, turning to Lorna, she asked, “Mom, shall we continue?”

12.04 Lorna nodded, still a bit dazed. She refocused and began to introduce each painting to Cordelia andMrs. Brown Naylor listened attentively, with excellent manners.

As the explanations went on, Naylor’s expression grew serious This s woman, so versed in Watercolor Painting, able to offer her judgment on each piece–she was noordinary.

person!

He looked at Lorna with respect and asked, “Mrs. Delaney, you seem to have a profoundunderstanding of Watercolor Painting. I found your explanations enlightening. Do you paint aswell?”

Lorna smiled, “I do, but I’m not very well–known.”

Naylor seemed slightly disappointed by her modesty and inquired further, “What style do youspecialize in?”

Lorna replied, “Landscapes.”

After a moment, something occurred to her, “Oh, I have a painting called ‘Frostfall that wasaccepted into the exhibition. Why haven’t I seen it?”

Naylor promptly guided the group toward a corner of the exhibition hall, “Ah, that painting! Iremember it; it’s over here.”

As they approached, they could see a crowd already gathered, admiring the work, “This “Frostfallseems quite remarkable!”

Naylor, taller than most, caught sight of the painting and his eyes lit up, “I agree, it’s excellent.”

Mrs. Brown, ever candid, beamed at Lorna, “Mrs. Delaney, everyone’s praising your painting!”

Lorna’s eyes sparkled with joy.

Unseen to her, Fanny had been watching warily and followed close behind. Hearing the praises,she stiffened and her piercing gaze landed on ‘Frostfall.

So, this was Lorna’s work? She recalled that Nana was Lorna’s pseudonym back in college.

Furrowing her brow, she heard someone ask, “Could someone explain this painting to me?”

Fanny boldly took The exhibition provided guides for such inquiries, and one was about to step forward when Fannythe initiative, “Allow me.”

The guide recognized her and laughed, “This is Fanny, a pinnacle figure in the national landscapepainting scene. Who better to explain than her?”

The guide handed her the microphone.

Being critiqued publicly made Lorna grip her fingers tightly, a mix of nerves and anticipation.

Fanny began with a smile, closely analyzing the painting. “This piece has an air of detachment, itscomposition vast and simple, the scenery minimal. The artist uses a side stroke technique to depictthe ruggedness of the mountains and rocks…”

She showered it with praise.

Mrs. Brown gave Lorna a thumbs–up. “Mrs. Delaney, you’re truly impressive.”

But hardly had the words left Fanny’s lips when she pivoted sharply, “…however, this piece is overlytechnical, lacking in depth and soul. It seems the artist hasn’t picked up a brush in years. There’s astiffness, a hesitancy in the strokes. Such a pity”

Her remark elicited a collective sigh from the crowd.

The nuances of watercolor are profound, understood by only a rare few. Many artists‘ reputationsare inflated. by hype, like Fanny.

Yet, she was the most renowned landscape painter in the country at the moment, and her critiquewas cruciall The others, only having a superficial understanding and not wishing to expose their ignorance,quickly echoed Fanny’s sentiments:

“I knew something was off about this painting. Now that Fanny has pointed it out, it’s clear!”

“How did this even make it into the selection?”

“They must have bought their way in.”

Lorna’s face turned ashen, her frame quivering, and it was only Cordelia’s timely support that kepther upright.

Feigning ignorance, Fanny glanced towards the staff, “Such a piece doesn’t belong here. Take itdown, let’s not embarrass ourselves.”

The staff member nodded and moved to remove the painting when Naylor interjected, “Actually, itseems quite alright to me.”

Fanny chuckled, “Mr. Finegan, you’re an oil painter. There’s a world of difference between oil andwatercolor. It’s understandable that you’d miss these nuances.”

Naylor was silent for a moment before he spoke again, “Perhaps I should invite my father to have alook then.”