conformed to the celebrated recommendation about being off with the old love."
"With the old love?" Sherringham repeated, looking hard at the picture.
"Before you are on with the new!" Nick had no sooner uttered these words than he coloured; it occurred to him that Peter would probably think he was alluding to Julia. He therefore added quickly: "It isn't so easy to cease to represent an affectionate constituency. Really, most of my time for a fortnight has been giving up to letter-writing. They've all been unexpectedly charming. I should have thought they would have loathed and despised me. But not a bit of it; they cling to me fondly—they struggle with me tenderly. I've been down to talk with them about it, and we've passed the most sociable, delightful hours. I've designated my successor; I've felt a good deal like the Emperor Charles the Fifth when about to retire to the monastery of Yuste. The more I've seen of them in this way the more I've liked them, and they declare it has been the same with themselves as regards me. We spend our time in assuring each other that we haven't begun to know each other till now. In short, it's all wonderfully jolly, but it isn't business. C'est magnifique, mais ce n'est pas la guerre."
"They're not so charming as they might be if they don't offer to keep you and let you paint."
"They do, almost; it's fantastic," said Nick. "Remember they haven't seen any of my painting yet."
"Well, I'm sorry for you; we live in too enlightened an age," Peter declared. "You can't suffer for art. Your experience
