"I should like to gain the world, to lay it at the feet of this woman," said he, standing before the portrait a moment. Philip felt more and more agitated. Lorimer looked at him fixedly. "Why, old fellow, what on earth is the matter with you?" "My dear Lorimer," answered Philip, who could conceal his feelings no longer, "you see me to-day in an indescribable state of excitement. In a few moments, I may hear that I am a rich man." "You don't say so," said Lorimer, amazed; "an old uncle about to depart this life?" "No," said Philip; "my work, my very own work is perhaps on the point of making me wealthy. For months past, night and day so to speak, I have been working" ... "At a great picture," interrupted Lorimer. "At an invention." "Nonsense! take care. You will die in the workhouse." "Not at all, old fellow," said Philip; "there are two kinds of inventors, those who seek and those who discover. I have discovered." "What have you discovered, dear friend?" said Lorimer, more and more surprised. "A shell that may revolutionise the art of warfare. A Special Commission is now sitting at the War Office in Paris, to discuss its merits. I am awaiting their decision. I shall get a telegram to-day, perhaps in a few moments. I offered my shell to the English Government, but they declined it." "Are you speaking seriously?" "Do I look as if I were joking? Can't you see, man, I'm in such a fever of impatience, that I can't hold a brush, my hand is trembling so? I have neither the courage nor the strength to finish this portrait, which only requires about an hour's work. But not a word to Dora on the subject; she knows nothing about it yet, and never will, if the affair falls through." A violent ringing was heard at the studio bell. "There," said Philip, "that is it perhaps ... the telegram at last." And he ran to open the door himself. He returned accompanied by a big man, pompous and shiny, who entered the studio with a majestic step. Bald, chubby-faced, with a huge nose that divided his face in two, as the Apennines divide Italy, and two large round eyes set lobster-fashion, he was, with his huge white waistcoat, a fair example of a certain type of city merchant, in all his glory. This pretentious personage cast a look into every corner of the studio. "Plague take the bore," said Philip to Lorimer. "I'll be off," said Lorimer. "Oh no, please stay. Sir Benjamin Pond's visit won't last long." "Ah, ah," said the big City alderman; "you received my note, in which I announced my visit?" Philip made a sign in the affirmative. Sir Benjamin placed his hat on a table and, rubbing his hands, threw a condescending glance at Philip, which seemed to say, "You ought to be proud to have a visit from me." He took stock of the furniture in detail.