"Perhaps not. It certainly does seem unintelligible that a man should lumber himself up with a lot of things which he cannot sell. A tradesman would know that he must get into the bankruptcy court if he were to go on like that. And what is sauce for the goose will be sauce for the gander also." Mr. Hamel again smiled but held his tongue. "If you can't sell your wares how can you keep a wife?" "My wares, as you call them, are of two kinds. One, though no doubt made for sale, is hardly saleable. The other is done to order. Such income as I make comes from the latter." "Heads," suggested Sir Thomas. "Busts they are generally called." "Well, busts. I call them heads. They are heads. A bust, I take it, is--well, never mind." Sir Thomas found a difficulty in defining his idea of a bust. "A man wants to have something more or less like some one to put up in a church and then he pays you." "Or perhaps in his library. But he can put it where he likes when he has bought it." "Just so. But there ain't many of those come in your way, if I understand right." "Not as many as I would wish." "What can you net at the end of the year? That's the question." Lucy had recommended him to tell Sir Thomas everything; and he had come there determined to tell at any rate everything referring to money. He had not the slightest desire to keep the amount of his income from Sir Thomas. But the questions were put to him in so distasteful a way that he could not bring himself to be confidential. "It varies with various circumstances, but it is very small." "Very small? Five hundred a year?" This was ill-natured, because Sir Thomas knew that Mr. Hamel did not earn five hundred a year. But he was becoming acerbated by the young man's manner. "Oh dear, no," said Hamel. "Four hundred?" "Nor four hundred,--nor three. I have never netted three hundred in one year after paying the incidental expenses." "That seems to me to be uncommonly little for a young man who is thinking of marrying. Don't you think you had better give it up?" "I certainly think nothing of the kind." "Does your father do anything for you?" "Nothing at all." "He also makes heads?" "Heads,--and other things." "And sells them when he has made them." "Yes, Sir Thomas; he sells them. He had a hard time once, but now he is run after. He refuses more orders than he can accept." "And he won't do anything for you." "Nothing. He has quarreled with me."