'Well, dear, you know you have not yet had a commission from anybody.' 'How can you say so, George? I have painted you--and my sister--and my mother--and your sisters. I am sure that no studio even of an R.A. could make a braver show of work. Well--I will give it up--until Prudence returns. Is it to be a garret? A real garret, with sloping walls, where you can only stand upright in the middle?' 'We call it a garret. It will take the form, I suppose, of a tiny house in a cheap quarter. It will have six rooms, a garden in front and a garden behind. The rent will be thirty pounds. For a whole twelvemonth it will be a real slice of Eden, Elsie, and you shall be Eve.' Elsie laughed. 'It will be great fun. We will make the Eden last longer than a twelvemonth. I daresay I shall like it. Of course I shall have to do everything for myself. To clean the doorstep will be equivalent to taking exercise in the fresh air: to sweep the floors will be a kind of afternoon dance or a game of lawn-tennis: to wash up the cups and saucers will be only a change of amusement.--There is one thing, George--one thing'--she became very serious--'I suppose you never--did you ever witness the scouring of a frying-pan? I don't think I _could_ do that. And did you ever see beef-steaks before they are cooked? They suggest the animal in the most terrible way. I don't really think I could handle those bleeding lumps.' 'You shan't touch a frying-pan, and we will have nothing roasted or fried. We will live on cold Australian beef eaten out of its native tin: the potatoes shall be boiled in their skins. And perhaps--I don't know--with two hundred pounds a year we could afford a servant--a very little one--just a girl warranted not to eat too much.' 'What shall we do when our clothes are worn out?' 'The little maid will make some more for you, I suppose. We certainly shall not be able to buy new things--not nice things, that is--and you must have nice things, mustn't you?' 'I do like things to be nice,' she replied, smoothing her dainty skirts with her dainty hand. 'George, where shall we find this house--formerly Eve's own country villa before she--resigned her tenancy, you know?' 'There are places in London where whole streets are filled with families living on a hundred and fifty pounds a year. Checkley--the chief's private clerk--lives in such a place: he told me so himself. He says there is nobody in his parish who has got a bigger income than himself: he's a little king among them because he gets four hundred pounds a year, besides what he has saved--which is enormous piles. Elsie, my dear, we must give up our present surroundings, and take up with gentility in its cheapest form.' 'Can we not go on living among our own friends?'