"None; we make our costume as we require it—a very simple and easy process, like the taking off."
Philip laughed at this rejoinder as they went along, the two arm and arm, like good friends, and the young men following. Hesperia was much more philosophical and grave in her manner than her husband, Imenus, and seemed, if anything, to be the superior half of this harmonious whole; but Imenus was gayer in his disposition, and more companionable. Philip already had enjoyed some conversation with him, and was prepared to enjoy his company amazingly—they were en rapport.
He had been one of the great painters of his age, a kind of superior Raphael, as he had been better taught than that gifted, yet somewhat faulty, master. He had shown Philip a few of his masterpieces, or rather Hesperia had, for she was as proud of her husband's marvellous gifts as he was modest; and Philip, who was no mean artist, had been struck dumb with admiration. He had seen Raphael's supposed masterpieces in the National Gallery of England, over which the trustees of the nation had squandered twenty thousand pounds of the nation's money, yet here stood a master of the same school as Raphael, who had lived and worked ages before him, and mentally he had drawn a comparison between the two men and their works.
"Do not despise the Italian, for he was a pupil and child of mine, and did great work, with the disadvantages he laboured under," said this gentle master of Atalanta. "The art of drawing had become lost in his days, colour also was but feebly felt, yet he was a great and a receptive soul. One day before you leave us, for you must fulfil your own destiny of usefulness, I shall introduce you to some great painters who have
