122 THE FIRESIDE SPHINX 



If Mme. Ronner s family groups are distinctly 

 artificial in composition, each kitling playing its 

 little part in a manner too effective for individual 

 caprice, her simpler studies are open to no such 

 untimely criticism. She has painted placid medi 

 tative cats, immersed in thought or sinking sweetly 

 into slumber, that charm our souls with the dignity 

 of their egotism, the frank expression of their 

 supreme self-love. The weakness of her work is 

 possibly its aristocratic narrowness of field. Like 

 Watteau, she is a &quot;Prince&quot; -or Princess &quot;of 

 Court Painters,&quot; never wandering from the sump 

 tuous atmosphere of ease and elegance and repose. 

 Her earlier pictures were not cast in this mould ; 

 but for many years her pussies have been soft pam 

 pered playthings, who frolic through life without a 

 care, and whose only burden is the courtly one, 

 ennui. What Mr. Pater says of Watteau s men 

 and women might well apply to Mme. Ronner s 

 cats. 



&quot; Half in masquerade, playing the drawing-room 

 or garden comedy of life, these persons have upon 

 them, not less than the landscape he composes, and 

 among the accidents of which they group them 

 selves with such a perfect fittingness, a certain 

 light we should seek for in vain upon anything 

 real.&quot; 



In this engaging mummery, Mme. Ronner s beau- 



