'No one gets on without ambition. My ideas have been pretty clear for
a long time. The English Romantic school have no more future, unless
they absorb French drawing and French technique. When they have done
that, they will do the finest work in the world.'

Morrison's astonishment increased. The decision and self-confidence
with which Fenwick spoke had never yet shown themselves so plainly in
the harassed and humbly born painter of Miss Bella's portrait.

'And you intend to do the finest work in the world?' said the patron,
in a voice of banter.

Fenwick hesitated.

'I shall do good work,' he said, doggedly, after a pause. Then,
suddenly raising his head, he added, 'And if I weren't sure of it, I'd
never let you lend me money.'

Morrison laughed.

'That's all right.--And now what will Mrs. Fenwick say to us?'

Fenwick turned away. He repossessed himself of the envelope, and
buttoned his coat over it, before he replied.

'I shall, of course, consult her immediately. What shall I do with
this picture?' He pointed to the portrait on the easel.

'Take it home with you, and see if you can't beautify it a little,'
said Morrison, in a tone of good-humour. 'You've got a lot of worldly