And only persistent urgings, day after day, even after a draft on London had been forced upon him, induced him to ship the painting. At no time was there any question of price or money involved; he simply did not wish to part with the last of his three marines. It was not until about 1890, and after, that Whistler’s paintings began to sell at anything like their real worth. To his credit be it said, his work was never “popular.” By his independence, his seeming defiance of all conventional and academic notions in his art, his eccentricities, and his lack of commercial instincts he managed, at a very early period in his career, to alienate,-- Dealers, Painters, and Public, the three factors upon which commercial success depends. * * * * * “A millionaire--one who was getting up an art-gallery--went to Whistler’s studio and glanced casually at the pictures. “‘How much for the lot?’ he asked, with the confidence of one who owns gold mines. “‘Your millions,’ said Whistler. “‘What!’ “‘My posthumous prices.’ And the painter added, ‘Good-morning.’” _X_ _The School of Carmen--In Search of Health--Chelsea once more--The End._ To please Madame Carmen Rossi, who as a child had been one of his best models, Whistler consented in 1897 to criticise the work of such students as might attend her school. As a result Carmen’s atelier was for the time being the most distinguished in Paris, and it was not uncommon to see carriages with coachmen and footmen in livery before the door on the days that Whistler was expected. As he passed about among the pupils he seldom praised and was never enthusiastic. He would sometimes stand many minutes before a canvas that merited his attention and would suggest changes and improvements; and now and then he took a brush and made the alterations himself, remarking, if the student were a young woman, “Now you have a Whistler all to your charming self.” The story is told that once he stopped before a very brilliant canvas, and exclaimed, “Hideous! hideous!” The student said, somewhat proudly, that she had taken private lessons from Bouguereau, and he blandly inquired, “Bouguereau, Bouguereau,--who is Bouguereau?” A pupil has printed some reminiscences of those days:[47]