Part 37 (1/2)

The Tapottes looked at each other in a state bordering on stupefaction.

”His lords.h.i.+p,” continued Muller, ”is sitting for the portrait of one of his ill.u.s.trious ancestors--a n.o.bleman of the period of Queen Elizabeth.”

Tapotte _mari_ scratched his head, and smiled feebly.

”_Parbleu_!” said he, ”_mais c'est bien drole, ca_!”

The artist shrugged his shoulders.

”It so happens,” said he, ”that his lords.h.i.+p's gallery at Smithfield Castle has unhappily been more than half destroyed by fire. Two centuries of family portraits reduced to ashes! Terrible misfortune!

Only one way of repairing the loss--that is of partially repairing it. I do my best. I read the family records--I study the history of the period--his lords.h.i.+p sits to me daily--I endeavor to give a certain amount of family likeness; sometimes more, you observe, sometimes less ... enormous responsibility, Monsieur Tapotte!”

”Oh, enormous!”

”The taste for family portraits,” continued Muller, still touching up the t.i.tian, ”is a very natural one--and is on the increase. Many gentlemen of--of somewhat recent wealth, come to me for their ancestors.”

”No!”

”_Foi d'honneur_. Few persons, however, are as conscientious as his lords.h.i.+p in the matter of family resemblance. They mostly buy up their forefathers ready-made--adopt them, christen them, and ask no questions.”

Monsieur and Madame Tapotte exchanged glances.

”_Tiens, mon ami_, why should we not have an ancestor or two, as well as other folks,” suggested the lady, in a very audible whisper.

Monsieur shook his head, and muttered something about the expense.

”There is no harm, at all events,” urged madame, ”in asking the price.”

”My charge for gallery portraits, madame, varies from sixty to a hundred francs,” said Muller.

”Heavens! how dear! Why, my own portrait is to be only fifty.”

”Sixty, Madame, if we put in the hands and the jewelry,” said Muller, blandly.

”_Eh bien_!--sixty. But for these other things.... bah! _ils sont fierement chers_.”

”_Pardon_, madame! The elegancies and superfluities of life are, by a just rule of political economy, expensive. It is right that they should be so; as it is right that the necessaries of life should be within the reach of the poorest. Bread, for instance, is strictly necessary, and should be cheap. A great-grandfather, on the contrary, is an elegant superfluity, and may be put up at a high figure.”

”There is some truth in that,” murmured Monsieur Tapotte.

”Besides, in the present instance, one also pays for antiquity.”

”_C'est juste--C'est juste_.”

”At the same time,” continued Muller, ”if Monsieur Tapotte were to honor me with a commission for, say, half a dozen family portraits, I would endeavor to put them in at forty francs apiece--including, at that very low price, a Revolutionary Deputy, a beauty of the Louis Quinze period, and a Marshal of France.”

”_Tiens_! that's a fair offer enough,” said madame. ”What say you, _mon ami_?”

But Monsieur Tapotte, being a cautious man, would say nothing hastily.

He coughed, looked doubtful, declined to commit himself to an opinion, and presently drew off into a corner for the purpose of holding a whispered consultation with his wife.