"_Parbleu_!" said he, "_mais c'est bien drôle, ça_!"

The artist shrugged his shoulders.

"It so happens," said he, "that his lordship's gallery at Smithfield
Castle has unhappily been more than half destroyed by fire. Two
centuries of family portraits reduced to ashes! Terrible misfortune!
Only one way of repairing the loss--that is of partially repairing it. I
do my best. I read the family records--I study the history of the
period--his lordship sits to me daily--I endeavor to give a certain
amount of family likeness; sometimes more, you observe, sometimes less
... enormous responsibility, Monsieur Tapotte!"

"Oh, enormous!"

"The taste for family portraits," continued Müller, still touching up
the Titian, "is a very natural one--and is on the increase. Many
gentlemen of--of somewhat recent wealth, come to me for their
ancestors."

"No!"

"_Foi d'honneur_. Few persons, however, are as conscientious as his
lordship in the matter of family resemblance. They mostly buy up their
forefathers ready-made--adopt them, christen them, and ask no
questions."

Monsieur and Madame Tapotte exchanged glances.

"_Tiens, mon ami_, why should we not have an ancestor or two, as well