‘“This young artist has little acquaintance with the ways of the world,”’ read Laurie. ‘“He loves nature, which is open to high and low. Instead of conciliating the critics and picture-dealers, he has satisfied himself with the models on the steps at the Trinita di Monte. Perhaps we ought to warn him that this is not the best way to please the British public.”’ ‘Mr. Suffolk will not like that,’ said the padrona. ‘It looks as if you meant something against his character. It looks like a sort of accusation----’ ‘Why, it is a joke!’ cried Laurie; ‘every one must see that at a glance.’ ‘But people are stupid,’ said his critic, taking courage. ‘I think you should change it. And then about Mr. Welby. Don’t you say he has almost given up painting? There is nothing he hates to hear said like that.’ ‘“Our veteran master in the art,”’ read Laurie, ‘“feeling his own strength decay, has called upon a younger brother to fill his place,--a substitution at which artists will rejoice.” I mean, of course, that everybody will be pleased to find he is spared the trouble.’ ‘But he will not like it,’ said the padrona. ‘I think I would say, instead of that about the Trinita di Monte, that he has spent a great deal of his time in Rome, and has caught the warmth of the atmosphere and brilliancy of the colour, and so on; and Mr. Welby,--I would say how graceful it was on his part to lend his aid to a younger man, and how ready he is to appreciate excellence. You told me to say what I think. And don’t you think if you were to begin just plainly by saying Mr. Suffolk’s works were exhibited at the Hydrographic, instead of that about the gem that is born to blush unseen----?’ ‘In short,’ said Laurie, with a flush on his face, ‘you don’t like any part of it,--beginning, or middle, or end.’ ‘Yes, indeed I do,’ said the treacherous woman. ‘I think it is very nice; but I am sure you could improve it. Don’t be offended. You could not expect to turn out a Thackeray all at once.’ ‘Nor a Michael Angelo,’ said Laurie, desponding; ‘nor anything. I shall always be a poor pretender, good for little;--and this attempt is more ridiculous than all the rest. Well, never mind. If it were not for poor Suffolk’s sake----’ ‘For Suffolk’s sake you are bound to do it,--and do it well,’ said Mrs. Severn; ‘and for mine,--I mean for everybody’s who cares for you. To begin at three o’clock in the morning, after a night of talk and smoke, and then to be melancholy because you are not pleased with your work! There are pens and paper on that table, Laurie, and I will not so much as look at you. Go and try again.’ ‘Do you mean to say you care?’ said Laurie; and he went and stood by her, while she continued to work.