“As for the Velasquez, I do not remember it at all, _ainsi je ne puis rien dire_. What frightens me is that it appears never to have struck me at the Louvre, as I do not remember it at all. You gave a _prodigious_ price for it, but as I have great confidence in your taste and judgment, as well as in everything else, I dare say I shall like it, and I long to have a look at it, which I hope soon to be able to do.” It was certainly not a bad investment at the _prodigious_ price. Other letters are full of the most flattering expressions: “April 11th, 1856. “I have only a moment to thank you a thousand times for your great kindness in giving me some details of the Sibthorpe sale.” * * * * * “April 23rd, 1856. “A thousand thanks for your kindness.” But these expressions are too numerous to quote; still, I will give one more because it really testifies to something like friendship. Writing from Paris, December 11th, 1863, Lord Hertford says: “I was in hopes that I should have had the pleasure of seeing you in Brussels something like a couple of months ago. There was a goodish portrait by Rubens that I bought. I shall be delighted to show it you some day, and I hope you will like it.” Certainly Lord Hertford was a great gentleman, one whom it must have been a pleasure to serve. It is easy to imagine the _sava indignatio_ of Lord Hertford if he could come to life again and see “the prices which people give now for these old affairs.” Money could hardly have been better invested than it was by himself, his father and his grandfather, when they paid what were deemed wild sums for their works of art. Fancy Sir Joshua’s “Nellie O’Brien” being bought by the second Marquess for £64 1s. at the Caleb Whitefoord sale. Think of the third Marquess buying Vandyck’s “Young Italian Nobleman,” a glorious portrait of the Genoese period, for £409 10s. In the second half of the nineteenth century prices went up madly, but, even so, Lord Hertford, when he gave £1,795 10s. for “Mrs. Carnac,” was purchasing gold for silver. Why, the first state of the mezzotint engraving of that picture by J. R. Smith was sold a few years ago, if I remember aright, for eleven hundred guineas. For the “Strawberry Girl” the price paid at the Rogers sale was £2,205. “No man,” said Sir Joshua, “could ever produce more than half a dozen original works, and that is one of mine.” Lord Hertford was delighted with the acquisition. He wrote to Mawson: