"I am afraid I have nothing to suit you," said Philip, in the tone of a bootmaker, who has not the right-sized shoes for his customer. The alderman took a rule out of his pocket, and measured several canvases that Philip placed on Dora's easel, after having removed the copy that she was doing of her own portrait. "Too small ... too small again ... oh, much too small. By George, what a pity!" "Perhaps you could put two of those in the larger space, Sir Benjamin," suggested Lorimer, with a wink at Philip, and without losing that British calm, which is the strong point of the Englishman in critical situations. "Two! oh dear no, that would look patchy. I am very proud of my gallery, sir.... Come and see it some day. There is hardly a good modern painter that isn't represented there. My philanthropy consists in patronising the arts, and especially modern artists. In buying old pictures you put money in the pockets of collectors and dealers, whereas, in buying pictures from living painters, you put money in the pockets of the artists. Now, don't you think I'm right?" Philip and Lorimer recognised that this was indeed the best manner of appreciating modern art. "And so you have nothing?" continued Sir Benjamin. "One eighteen by twenty-four, and one thirty-six by fifty," he repeated. "My work is either too small or too large, I fear. I could, within a month or six weeks, fill your eighteen by twenty-four." "No, no, I can't wait. Those open spaces, staring me in the face, are too awful." "I am extremely sorry," said Philip. "So am I," replied Sir Benjamin. "I wanted a picture of yours; I like variety in my gallery." "And no doubt he has it," thought Lorimer. "Mr. Grantham," continued the City man, "you have a great career before you. Everybody says so. You'll be an academician before five years are over; you are one of our future great painters." He gazed around the studio once more, and suddenly noticing the portrait of Dora, he said, "Holloa! what's this?" and proceeded to measure the picture. "Why, this is the very thing. I'll take this ... I don't know the original, but she's a deuced pretty woman, and if it's a fancy portrait" ... "It is not quite finished yet." "Yes, that's true," said Sir Benjamin; "I see the face and hands want a little" ... "No, the flowers," interrupted Philip; "but it will be finished to-day." "Good, send it to me to-morrow." "Sir Benjamin, this picture was painted under exceptional circumstances. I mean" ... "That's all right, my dear sir; your price is mine. That is my way of doing business. When I have taken a fancy to a picture, I never bargain with the artist." "You misunderstand me, Sir Benjamin," returned Philip; "I simply meant to say, that this picture is not for sale. It is a portrait of my wife, and belongs to her." "Oh, that's another matter. In that case, I'll say nothing more." "I hope to be more fortunate some other time."