"Sir," he said, "if Madame does me the honor to sit to me for her portrait--for her _own_ portrait, observe--I flatter myself the resemblance will be overwhelming. But you must permit me to inform you that Milord Smithfield is not sitting for his own portrait." The Tapottes looked at each other in a state bordering on stupefaction. "His lordship," continued Müller, "is sitting for the portrait of one of his illustrious ancestors--a nobleman of the period of Queen Elizabeth." Tapotte _mari_ scratched his head, and smiled feebly. "_Parbleu_!" said he, "_mais c'est bien drôle, ça_!" The artist shrugged his shoulders. "It so happens," said he, "that his lordship'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 lordship 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 Müller, still touching up the Titian, "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 lordship 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 Müller. "Heavens! how dear! Why, my own portrait is to be only fifty." "Sixty, Madame, if we put in the hands and the jewelry," said Müller, 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_."