ed that you have been poaching on my
ground. I saw a landscape of yours the other day, which looked as if
some of my curry powder had got into the sunset. I mean the one poor
blind old Wilkins bought at your last show."

"Ah, but that sunset was an inspiration, Colonel, and consequently
beyond your comprehension."

"It is easy to talk of inspiration," said Sir John, "and, perhaps, now
that we are debating a matter of real importance, we might spend our
time more profitably than in discussing what is and what is not a good
picture. Some inspiration has been brought into our symposium, I venture
to affirm that the brain which devised and the hand which executed the
Tenerumi di Vitello we have just tasted, were both of them inspired. In
the construction of this dish there is to be recognised a breath of the
same afflatus which gave us the Florentine campanile, and the Medici
tombs, and the portrait of Monna Lisa. When we stand before any one of
these masterpieces, we realise at a glance how keen must have been the
primal insight, and how strenuous the effort necessary for the evolution
of so consummate an achievement; and, with the savour of the Tenerumi di
Vitello still fresh, I feel that it deserves to be added to the list of
Italian capo lavori. Now, as I was not fortunate enough to be included
in the pupils' class this morning, I must beg the next time the dish
is presented to us--and I imagine all present will hail its renaissance
with joy--that I may be allowed to lend a hand, or even a finger, in its
preparation."

"Veal, with the possible exception of Lombard beef, is the best meat we
get in Italy," said the Marchesa, "so an Italian cook, when he wants to
produce a meat dish of the highest excellence, generally turns to veal
as a basis. I must say that the breast of veal, which is the part we had
for lunch today, is a somewhat insipid dish when cooked English fashion.
That we have been able to put it before you in more palatable form, and
to win for it the approval of such a connoisseur as Sir John Oglethorpe,
is largely owing to the judicious use of that Italian terror--more dire
to many English than paper-money or brigands--garlic."

"The quantity used was infinitesimal," said Mrs. Sinclair, "but it seems
to have been enough to subdue what I once heard Sir John describe as the
pallid solidity of the innocent calf."

"I fear the vein of incongruity in our discourse, lately noted by Van
der Roet, is not quite