'Am I to regard that as a compliment? I suppose your ladyship imagines all artists to wear velvet coats, wideawakes, long hair, and smoke short pipes till they are as stupid as their pictures. For my part, I never affect that sort of thing. Besides, at present I am only paying my attentions to Art, and so cannot afford to be careless of my appearance. When that discriminating goddess chooses to regard me as her accepted suitor, and my name is made, then I believe it will be de rigueur for me to appear so absorbed in my creations as to be unmindful of the requirements of civilisation.'

'And when do you expect to be accepted by Art as her favoured suitor ?" said Lady Trevennis.

'I know not. The engagement will, I fear, be a long one, and perhaps end, like most engagements, in mutual weariness of each other. However, I must look to my

picture to be a success; and then, once successful, I shall ask the most fabulous sums for my pictures;' and I laughed.

'If I were an artist,' said she, 'I think I should prefer fame to money.'

'O, but money is everything nowadays,' replied I. This is an eminently practical

age, and we reduce honour, morality, religion-everything, in fact-to a marketable

value. "Will it pay?" is the be-all and end-all of modern society. The ancients used to say that money was the root of all evil; but we moderns call it the tree of life, beneath whose branches we all collect, with arms outstretched and mouth agape to gather the golden blossoms. Of course, therefore, I go with the times.'

'May I ask your name?'

I told her; and was glad that it was familiar to her; for she knew my uncle-a canon of Bristol, who held a very good liv

ing in South Devon-and my father's firstcousin, a Sir Athelstan Disney; but as my father had quarrelled with all his family, I was quite a stranger to them and they to me; and the fact of my setting up as an artist did not certainly tend to make them wish to cultivate my acquaintance.

'Artists are very jealous of each other, are they not?' asked she.

'Not jealous, but impartial-they never speak well one of another,' replied I.

We had now arrived at some large iron gates, which at one time had adorned a Belgian convent on the Meuse, and which now served as the park-gates to Coombe Royal. A tall man, who looked like a promoted gamekeeper, came out of the neighbouring lodge and opened them, regarding me all the while with deferential astonishment. We entered a stately avenue, whose wide-spreading beech-trees extended their

naked branches to heaven, as if appealing for foliage; and as I drove along the wellkept road, the sharp click of the horses' hoofs awoke many a rabbit from his lair, and sent him scudding across the park. At the end of the avenue the Italianstatued terraces, rising one above the other, of Coombe Royal met my view; and the next minute the horses had entered the broad semicircular carriage-sweep in front of the house, and stopped before its splendid Elizabethan porch. The servants had heard our approach; the hall-doors were opened, and two footmen came out to receive the wrappers, &c., whilst a distinguished gentleman in black superintended their move

ments.

George,' said Lady Trevennis to one of the footmen, in that brief tone of com

mand which some fine ladies adopt when addressing their servants, send to Ray

6

legh for Linton. He was thrown out of the phaeton; for the horses took fright at Clay Cross, and ran away with me. Had it not been for the courage of this gentleman'and she turned her head towards me'I should in all probability have met his fate.'

The servant trusted that her ladyship had suffered no harm, and then said, 'A foreign gentleman is waiting to see you, milady;' and he handed her a card.

Lady Trevennis read the name, and her face turned pale, and I saw a glitter in her eyes which spoke of controlled passion. 'Where is the gentleman ?'

'In the library, milady.'

I got out of the carriage, and helped Lady Trevennis to alight. I was on the point of taking my departure, when she said:

'I hope you will stay to luncheon. I

VOL. I.

F