least. The fact is, sir, I don't think you know much about artists, do you? You haven't been much among the studios, have you?"
"No. I confess that this is my first visit to one. I have taken an interest in art in a general way, and have occasionally purchased a picture that pleased me, but there my experience ceases."
"Well, if there were no patrons there would be no artists, or very few, I suspect: so you see you are responsible for us, after all. But as regards Nettie, she has seen a good deal of the life we lead, and I do honestly believe she would be happy with me. Now do give her to me, won't you, Mr. Ellice? I'd vastly rather have her with your consent than without it."
"Implying that you mean in any case to have her?"
"Well, I don't mean to give her up. I'm willing to wait, however, till you have known me longer and grown to like me."
"You seem tolerably confident that you will win my regard."
"Oh, yes. There's no reason why you shouldn't like me,—none in the world."
"I'm not aware that I dislike you now," said Mr. Ellice, smiling benignly.
"Come, now, that's capital! I knew you weren't of the stern father type the moment I saw you."
"The conviction must have sustained you considerably during this interview, Mr. Roscoe. I certainly have not spared your feelings."
"Oh, I haven't minded in the least," said Frank, laughing.
"Well," said Mr. Ellice, gathering together his hat and umbrella and rising to go, "I shall give this matter my earnest consideration, and will let you know my decision in a few days."
"All right," said Frank, extending his hand as he opened the door. "Give my love to Nettie.
Then Mr. Ellice went home in a state of mind bordering on the hilarious, though he reminded himself that the affair was wholly preposterous and that common sense would not admit of his condoning it.
"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Ellice to her husband, "and what sort of a young man is Mr. Roscoe, and what did you say to him?"
"Mr. Roscoe is a—well, my love, he is a very singular young man; but I must admit he is not offensive. In fact, he is a remarkably agreeable and altogether lovable young fellow."
"Really! And what are his views? What does he propose to do?"
"He proposes to marry Nettie and live on an annual income of nothing certain, in a room on the fifth floor of a building on upper Broadway, with a complete household outfit of a patent coffee-pot and an impossible chair."
"Oh, William! how dreadful! What a horrible life for our Nettie!"
"Mr. Roscoe thinks it would be charming. And, by the way, he regards our Nettie as his Nettie."
"But of course you told him you would never consent to anything so ridiculous."
"Well, no,—not exactly. I left the matter open. But I am inclined, my dear Eliza, I really am inclined to let these two ridiculous young people marry and be happy in their own way."
"But how does he propose to support Nettie? and how would they get on?"
"Mr. Roscoe's reply to that question," said Mr. Ellice, smiling, "resolved itself into 'somehow.' I intend to allow him to try it. Meantime, as I believe he will, on the whole, make Nettie a good husband, I shall keep an eye on their domestic machinery and see that it does not entirely run down in the event of their losing their present touching confidence in 'somehow.' Though I admit this is not a defensible line of conduct on my part. In fact, I think it is open to the charge of imbecility; but I expect to enjoy it very much, my dear."
