n 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
as other folks," suggested the lady, in a very audible whisper.

Monsieur shook his head, and muttered something about the expense.

"There is no harm, at all events," urged madame, "in asking the price."

"My charge for gallery portraits, madame, varies from sixty to a hundred
francs," said Mueller.

"Heavens! how dear! Why, my own portrait is to be only fifty."

"Sixty, Madame, if we put in the hands and the jewelry," said Mueller,
blandly.

"_Eh bien_!--sixty. But for these other things.... bah! _ils sont
fierement chers_."

"_Pardon_, madame! The elegancies and superfluities of life are, by a
just rule of political economy, expensive. It is right that they should
be so; as it is right that the necessaries of life should be within the
reach of the poorest. Bread, for instance, is strictly necessary, and
should be cheap. A great-grandfather, on the contrary, is an elegant
superfluity, and may be put up at a high figure."

"There is some truth in that," murmured Monsieur Tapotte.

"Besides, in the present instance, one also pays for antiquity."

"_C'est juste--C'est juste_."

"At the same time," continued Mueller, "if Monsieur Tapotte were to honor
me with a commission for, say, half a dozen family portraits, I would
endeavor to put them in at forty francs apiece--including, at that very
low price, a Revolutionary Deputy, a beauty of the Louis Quinze period,
and a Marshal of France."

"_Tiens_! that's a fair offer enough," said madame. "What say you, _mon
ami_?"

But Monsieur Tapotte, being a cautious man, would say nothing hastily.
He coughed, looked doubtful, declined to commit himself to an opinion,
and presently drew off into a corner for the purpose of holding a
whispered consultation with his wife.

Meanwhile Mueller laid aside his brushes and palette, informed me with a
profound bow that my lordship had honored him by sitting as long as was
strictly necessary, and requested my opinion upon the progress of
the work.

I praised it rapturously. You would have thought, to hear me, that for
drawing, breadth, finish, color, composition, chiaroscuro, and every
other merit that a painting could possess, this particular
_chef-d'oeuvre_ excelled all t