portrait is not intended to be like."

Madame Tapotte's eyes and mouth opened simultaneously.

"_Comment_!" she exclaimed.

"I should be extremely sorry," continued Müller, loftily, "and his
lordship would be extremely sorry, if there were too much resemblance."

"But a--a likeness--it seems to me, should at all events be--like,"
stammered Madame Tapotte, utterly bewildered.

"And if M'sieur is to paint my wife," added Monsieur Tapotte, who had by
this time joined the group at the easel, "I--I..._Dame_! it must be a
good deal more like than this."

Müller drew himself up with an air of great dignity.

"Sir," he said, "if Madame does me the honor to sit to me for her
portrait--for her _own_ portrait, observe--I flatter myself the
resemblance will be overwhelming. But you must permit me to inform you
that Milord Smithfield is not sitting for his own portrait."

The Tapottes looked at each other in a state bordering on stupefaction.

"His lordship," continued Müller, "is sitting for the portrait of one of
his illustrious ancestors--a nobleman of the period of Queen Elizabeth."

Tapotte _mari_ scratched his head, and smiled feebly.