_Uncle_ (_looking it up_). "_Arrangement in Black. La Dame au Brodequin Jaune._"--the lady in a yellow something or other. Tchah! And not a word to tell you who she's supposed to _be_? If I pay a shilling for a Catalogue, I expect to find information in it. And let me ask you--where's the interest in looking at a portrait when you're not told who it's intended for? [_The Nephew, not being prepared to answer this difficult query, leads his relative gently up to a "Nocturne in Opal and Silver." The Uncle conveys his opinion of it by a loud and expressive snort._ _First Prosaic Person_ (_before No. 28_). Valparaiso, is it? (_Hopefully._) Well, come, I _ought_ to recognise this--I've _been_ there often enough. (_Inspecting it closely._) Ha--um! _Second P.P._ (_with languid interest_). Is it _like_? _First P.P._ I could tell you better if he'd done it by daylight. I can't make out this in the front--looks to me like the top of a _house_, or something. Don't remember _that_. _Second P.P._ I think it's meant for a jetty, landing-stage, or that sort of thing, and, when you look _into_ it, there's something that seems intended for people--_most_ extraordinary, isn't it? _The Domesticated Matron_ (_who is searching for a picture with a subject to it_). There, CAROLINE, it's evidently a _harbour_, you see, and ships, and they're letting off fireworks--probably for a regatta, Does it tell you what it is in the Catalogue? _Caroline_ (_after consulting it_). It only says, "_A Nocturne in Blue and Gold_"--oh yes--(_reading_)--"a splash and splutter of brightness, on a black ground, to depict a display of fireworks." _Her Mother_ (_gratified at her own intelligence_). I thought it _must_ be fireworks. He seems quite _fond_ of fireworks, doesn't he? _First Facetious Philistine._ Hullo, what have we got here? "_Crepuscule, in Flesh-colour and Green._" Very _like_ one, too, daresay--when you know what it is. _Second F.P._ As far as I can make it out, a Crepuscule's either a Harmony inside out, or a Symphony upside down--it don't much matter. _A Lady_ (_who is laboriously trying to catch the right spirit_). "_The Blue Wave at Biarritz_." Now I _do_ admire that. And what I like even better than the Blue wave is this great Brown one breaking in the foreground--so exactly _like_ water, isn't it, DICK? _Dick_ (_not a Whistlerite_). Y--yes--just. Only it's a rock, you know. _The Lady._ But if that's the way he _saw_ it, DICK! _Dick._ Here's a thing! "_St. Mark's, Venice_." I'll _trouble_ you! What's he done with the flagstaffs and the bronze horses and the pigeons? _I_ never saw the place look like that. _The Lady._ Because it didn't happen to be _foggy_ while we were there, that's all. _First Pros. Person._ Ah, there's old CARLYLE, you see! Dear me, what a very badly fitting coat--see how it bulges over his chest! _Second P.P._ Yes. I daresay he buttoned the wrong button--philosopher and all that sort o' thing, y'know.