everybody knows what a Turner means. Here's May; he'll be able to tell
you as well as another. It means a few cool thousands, take my word for
it. It means, I believe, that heaps of people would give you your own
price. I don't call it a profitable investment, for it brings in no
interest; but they tell me it's a thing that grows in value every year.
And there it is, Sir, hanging up useless on my wall in Portland Place,
costing a fortune, and bringing in not a penny. But I like it; I like
it, for I can afford it, by George! Here's May; he knows what that sort
of thing is; he'll tell you that a Turner is worth its weight in gold."

"Thank you, I don't think I need any information on that subject," said
Sir Robert. "Besides, I saw your Turner. It is a pretty picture--if it
is authentic; but Wilson, you know--"

"Wasn't a big-enough swell not to be authentic, eh?" said Mr.
Copperhead. "Common name enough, and I don't know that I ever heard of
him in the way of painting; but I don't pretend to be a judge. Here's
May; now, I dare say he knows all about it. Buying's one thing,
knowing's another. Your knowing ones, when they've got any money, they
have the advantage over us, Sir Robert; they can pick up a thing that's
good, when it happens to come their way, dirt cheap; but fortunately for
us, it isn't often they've got any money," he added, with a laugh,
slapping Mr. May on the shoulder in a way which made him totter. But the
clergyman's good-humour was equal even to this assault. It is wonderful
how patient and tolerant we can all be when the motive is strong enough.

"That is true," he said; "but I fear I have not even the compensation of
knowledge. I know enough, however, to feel that the possessor of a
Turner is a public personage, and may be a public benefactor if he
pleases."

"How that? If you think I am one to go lending my pictures about, or
leaving them to the nation when I'm done for, that's not my sort. No, I
keep them to myself. If I consent to have all that money useless, it is
for myself, you may depend, and not for other people. And I'll leave it
to my boy Clarence, if he behaves himself. He's a curiosity, too, and
has a deal of money laid out on him that brings no interest, him and his
mother. I'll leave it to Clar, if he doesn't make a low marriage, or any
folly of that kind."

"You should make it an heir-loom," said Sir Robert, with sarcasm too
fine for his antagonist; "leave it from father to son of yo