Hearing Dorian's familiar voice although not registering anything beyond her name, Mabelle inclined her head just slightly toward him, but she was unable to actually take her eyes off the painting she'd been studying. Always finding him insightful and unpretentious to talk to about art, she parted her lips in half-formed thought before completely turning to face him. "Do you think that-" she began to ask, and then she heard the man next to Dorian speak, immediately losing her train of thought.
"Oh," she acknowledged after a confused pause and delayed remembrance of the previous context she used that word in his presence. Repeating Michel's response in her mind, it took a couple times before it made sense. She was dressed differently from before, abandoning her corset in favour of the light empire gowns that were slowly trickling into fashion, but otherwise she looked the same, and her name hadn't changed, so there was no way he'd actually forgotten her in a month. But he was claiming they'd never met, and although willing to go along with it, she wasn't sure what to make that. Hiding her discomfort with the situation, Mabelle nodded her head with her typical degree of awkwardness in greeting. "I'm Mabelle," she stated simply, despite the fact already being established. She had no reason to give any family name anymore.
There were a few scenarios for why Dorian was introducing them, although it was most plausible that it was Dorian's insistence rather than Michel's. He'd made comments lately about how unhealthy it was that she was spending so much time alone, although she had insisted she wanted more time to paint and that he was all the company she needed. That's why he'd made sure she was there tonight, knowing she couldn't resist the invitation for the unveiling, and he'd already introduced her to a few "fine young painters" that evening. She got along with the other artists well enough, and few of them seemed to mind her eccentricities, but she was struggling with conversation that evening. She doubted this one was going to go much better.
Oblivious to Mabelle's desire to escape, Dorian patted her should roughly before resting his hand there. "Monsieur Mendel desires to learn to paint," he informed her with the slightest cheerfully mischievous tone that Mabelle caught but wasn't quite willing to play into.
"Don't we all," she replied with practiced neutrality, not finding Michel's apparent pursuit too surprising. Most people with his level appreciation for the fine arts at least attempted it themselves once, although most quit after not immediately getting the results they wished on the first try.
Undeterred by her avoidance of biting the bait, Dorian chuckled and shook his head. "You're not doing much of anything," and if she were actually offended by the truth of it she might have given him more than a half-formed pout, "so I'm sure you have the time to teach him how to do so." Dorian smiled at Michel, "She's quite talented."
So that was it. Mabelle would have protested, but she'd leave that to Michel so she wouldn't have to explain to Dorian why she was so against it.