“That nabob of ours is a queer fish,” Hobson Newcome remarked to his nephew Barnes. “He is as proud as Lucifer, he is always taking huff about one thing or the other. He went off in a fume the other night because your aunt objected to his taking the boys to the play. She don’t like their going to the play. My mother didn’t either. Your aunt is a woman who is uncommon wideawake, I can tell you.” “I always knew, sir, that my aunt was perfectly aware of the time of the day,” says Barnes, with a bow. “And then the Colonel flies out about his boy, and says that my wife insulted him! I used to like that boy. Before his father came he was a good lad enough—a jolly brave little fellow.” “I confess I did not know Mr. Clive at that interesting period of his existence,” remarks Barnes. “But since he has taken this madcap freak of turning painter,” the uncle continues, “there is no understanding the chap. Did you ever see such a set of fellows as the Colonel had got together at his party the other night? Dirty chaps in velvet coats and beards? They looked like a set of mountebanks. And this young Clive is going to turn painter!” “Very advantageous thing for the family. He’ll do our pictures for nothing. I always said he was a darling boy,” simpered Barnes. “Darling jackass!” growled out the senior. “Confound it, why doesn’t my brother set him up in some respectable business? I ain’t proud. I have not married an earl’s daughter. No offence to you, Barnes.” “Not at all, sir. I can’t help it if my grandfather is a gentleman,” says Barnes, with a fascinating smile. The uncle laughs. “I mean I don’t care what a fellow is if he is a good fellow. But a painter! hang it—a painter’s no trade at all—I don’t fancy seeing one of our family sticking up pictures for sale. I don’t like it, Barnes.” “Hush! here comes his distinguished friend, Mr. Pendennis,” whispers Barnes; and the uncle growling out, “Damn all literary fellows—all artists—the whole lot of them!” turns away. Barnes waves three languid fingers of recognition towards Pendennis: and when the uncle and nephew have moved out of the club newspaper room, little Tom Eaves comes up and tells the present reporter every word of their conversation.