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The subject of his gay tribute considered. | No speaker | the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with | in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign | it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he | their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with | me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. | surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was | Bender?” Lord John insisted. It made their visitor rather sharply fix him. “Why, have _you_ an interest, Lord John?” This personage, though undisturbed by the challenge, if such it was, referred it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling | and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?”<|quote|>The subject of his gay tribute considered.</|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the | The Outcry |
“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” | Bender | of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is | with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with | what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it | value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly | thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that | in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and | visitor rather sharply fix him. “Why, have _you_ an interest, Lord John?” This personage, though undisturbed by the challenge, if such it was, referred it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t | John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered.<|quote|>“There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s | The Outcry |
“Then,” | Theign | the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there | gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the | And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ | had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. | stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he | their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite | _you_ an interest, Lord John?” This personage, though undisturbed by the challenge, if such it was, referred it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” | the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ | The Outcry |
Lord Theign asked, | No speaker | matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter | tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I | then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s | meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with | down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give | host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he | an interest, Lord John?” This personage, though undisturbed by the challenge, if such it was, referred it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew | much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked,</|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession | The Outcry |
“is there anything the matter with the picture?” | Theign | thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” | nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push | others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find | cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use | chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a | he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last | John?” This personage, though undisturbed by the challenge, if such it was, referred it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord | the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked,<|quote|>“is there anything the matter with the picture?”</|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now | The Outcry |
“Yes, sir--I guess there is.” | Bender | the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push | Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But | thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, | to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” | with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be | to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply | if such it was, referred it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, | remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?”<|quote|>“Yes, sir--I guess there is.”</|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man | The Outcry |
It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. | No speaker | “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” | the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” | work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said | his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s | Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his | who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on | it to Lord Theign. “Do you authorise me to speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But | on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.”<|quote|>It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.</|quote|>“But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered | The Outcry |
“But what in the world----?” | Theign | push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” | is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. | in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine | us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do | “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, | dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession | speak--a little--as if I have an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable | on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows.<|quote|>“But what in the world----?”</|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. | The Outcry |
“Well, that’s just the question!” | Bender | “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. | push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a | the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign | Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” | I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready | tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the | an interest?” Lord Theign gave the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there | be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?”<|quote|>“Well, that’s just the question!”</|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the | The Outcry |
The eyebrows continued to rise. | No speaker | “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a | “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ | The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the | it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a | the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis | the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message | the appeal--and the speaker--a certain attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; | “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!”<|quote|>The eyebrows continued to rise.</|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural | The Outcry |
“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” | Theign | The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up | “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” | tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter | only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said | better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you | just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the | attention, and then appeared rather sharply to turn away from them. “My dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It | opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise.<|quote|>“Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”</|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh | The Outcry |
“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” | Bender | whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according | pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, | asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for | the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what | the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a | time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the | dear fellow, you may amuse yourself at my expense as you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite | on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?”<|quote|>“That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”</|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I | The Outcry |
“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” | Theign | there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. | “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work | sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had | The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had | longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form | Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then | you like!” “Oh, I don’t mean at your expense,” Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I | face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.”<|quote|>“But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”</|quote|>“Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman | The Outcry |
“Why, of course,” | Bender | according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a | out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord | to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But | said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the | value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give | it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, | Lord John laughed-- “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked | he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?”<|quote|>“Why, of course,”</|quote|>said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And | The Outcry |
said Mr. Bender, | No speaker | ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” | the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly | eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your | again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter | friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, | offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained | “I mean at Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and | acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,”<|quote|>said Mr. Bender,</|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he | The Outcry |
“it’s a fine work anyway.” | Bender | of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly | to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with | in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such | Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that | as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” | not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling | Mr. Bender’s!” “Well, go ahead, Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and | dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender,<|quote|>“it’s a fine work anyway.”</|quote|>“Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and | The Outcry |
“Then,” | Theign | “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, | of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, | just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” | with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he | the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He | he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. | Lord John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now | returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.”<|quote|>“Then,”</|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that | The Outcry |
Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, | No speaker | a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, | course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was | the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, | ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” | thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John | hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might | John,” said that gentleman, always easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” | even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,”<|quote|>Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,</|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; | The Outcry |
“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” | Theign | Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. | a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord | to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is | his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with | I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign | have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking | easy, but always too, as you would have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept | that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out,<|quote|>“what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”</|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by | The Outcry |
That gentleman was perfectly clear. | No speaker | matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord | brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no | question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The | matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he | Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a | be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the | have felt, aware of everything-- “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; | manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?”<|quote|>That gentleman was perfectly clear.</|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot | The Outcry |
“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” | Bender | That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had | matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it | a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way | Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be | meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger | such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to | “go ahead, but don’t sweetly hope to create me in any desire that doesn’t already exist in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to | the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear.<|quote|>“The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”</|quote|>“‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up | The Outcry |
“‘No use?’” | Theign | for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. | is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea | according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But | It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty | his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then | Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you | in the germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that | seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.”<|quote|>“‘No use?’”</|quote|>--the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent | The Outcry |
--the expression had an oddity. | No speaker | ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea | I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” | himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at | an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” | of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even | naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, | germ. The attempt has often been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very | the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’”<|quote|>--the expression had an oddity.</|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by | The Outcry |
“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” | Theign | --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, | ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that | course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he | lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which | needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t | your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of | been made, over here--has in fact been organised on a considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem | have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity.<|quote|>“But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”</|quote|>“I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, | The Outcry |
“I mean,” | Bender | to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a | “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is | Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his | the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready | knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence | taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your | considerable scale; but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me | native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?”<|quote|>“I mean,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and | The Outcry |
Mr. Bender explained, | No speaker | with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that | it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m | brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” | The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On | it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s | his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any | but I guess I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as | markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender explained,</|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your | The Outcry |
“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” | Bender | “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble | to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- | “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that | to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how | Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to | manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank | I’ve got some peculiarity, for it doesn’t seem as if the thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” | see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained,<|quote|>“that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”</|quote|>“The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go | The Outcry |
“The figure,” | Theign | is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, | a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond | clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants | _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would | And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And | to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he | thing could be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship | of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.”<|quote|>“The figure,”</|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, | The Outcry |
said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- | No speaker | what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see | of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord | matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss | Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture | as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of | though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to | be done. If the germ is there, on the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from | impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,”<|quote|>said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--</|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took | The Outcry |
“is beyond what you see your way to?” | Theign | host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped | “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter | no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no | to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety | Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further | don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so | the other hand,” Mr. Bender conceded, “it develops independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from | he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially--<|quote|>“is beyond what you see your way to?”</|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself | The Outcry |
But Lord John had jumped at the truth. | No speaker | you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender | pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his | use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his | to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but | showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate | interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not | independently of all encouragement.” Lord John communicated again as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I | the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?”<|quote|>But Lord John had jumped at the truth.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, | The Outcry |
“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” | Lord John | had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The | way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is | it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On | Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John | in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of | took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a | as in a particular sense with Lord Theign. “He thinks I really mean to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these | you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”</|quote|>“Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John | The Outcry |
“Further?” | Theign | sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter | Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that | “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the | “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, | his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, | that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade | to _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, | or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.”<|quote|>“Further?”</|quote|>their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, | The Outcry |
their companion echoed. | No speaker | his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender | Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to | a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of | the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive | gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was | chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for | _offer_ him something!” Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have | value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?”<|quote|>their companion echoed.</|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high | The Outcry |
“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” | Lord John | further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss | he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there | that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. | _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into | “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had | thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, | Lord Theign, who seemed to wish to advertise a degree of detachment from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort | Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed.<|quote|>“The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”</|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign | The Outcry |
Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. | No speaker | he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no | with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” | host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a | Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did | there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry | properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the | from the issue, or from any other such, strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value | you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.”<|quote|>Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.</|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his | The Outcry |
“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” | Theign | this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you | give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on | you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he | a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make | sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed | that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some | strolled off, in his restlessness, toward the door that opened to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite | subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile.<|quote|>“Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”</|quote|>“Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord | The Outcry |
“Ah,” | Bender | difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know | “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which | at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could | oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even | his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to | to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things | to the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent | first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!”<|quote|>“Ah,”</|quote|>said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand | The Outcry |
said his guest, | No speaker | about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, | there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to | the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. | “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as | lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the | Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, | the terrace, only stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John | the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,”<|quote|>said his guest,</|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” | The Outcry |
“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” | Bender | think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of | no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John | matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord | your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ | what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense | _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account | stopping on his way to light a cigarette from a matchbox on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. | that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest,<|quote|>“you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”</|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to | The Outcry |
“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” | Lord John | which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far | know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender | further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign | explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord | continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his | value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think | on a small table. It was but after doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our | “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.”<|quote|>“On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”</|quote|>Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John | The Outcry |
Lord John inquired, | No speaker | then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” | to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a | Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide | not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time | question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked | observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, | doing so that he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things | matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,”<|quote|>Lord John inquired,</|quote|>“how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the | The Outcry |
“how far would you go?” | Lord John | Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a | the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question | that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter | after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at | it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other | don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if | he made the remark: “Ah, Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” | man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired,<|quote|>“how far would you go?”</|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think | The Outcry |
Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. | No speaker | “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the | Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” | millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as | noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can | what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he | Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the | Mr. Bender may easily be too much for you!” “That makes me the more sorry, sir,” said his visitor, “not to have been enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so | thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?”<|quote|>Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.</|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine | The Outcry |
“Well, I’d go all the way.” | Bender | he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord | moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive | “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you | matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had | Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling | again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in | enough for _you!_” “I risk it, at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves | thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction.<|quote|>“Well, I’d go all the way.”</|quote|>“He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind | The Outcry |
“He wants, you see,” | Lord John | I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ | could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared | which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to | he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his | “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as | the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have | at any rate,” Lord John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep | a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.”<|quote|>“He wants, you see,”</|quote|>Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, | The Outcry |
Lord John elucidated, | No speaker | way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord | “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after | pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural | much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, | good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have | entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to | John went on-- “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words | young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,”<|quote|>Lord John elucidated,</|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then | The Outcry |
“an _ideally_ expensive thing.” | Lord John | you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide | all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter | basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared | their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible | the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently | aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real | “I put you, Bender, the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in | the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated,<|quote|>“an _ideally_ expensive thing.”</|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no | The Outcry |
Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. | No speaker | elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make | wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive | Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further | matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to | Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what | of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had | the question of whether you wouldn’t Move,’ as you say, to acquire that Moretto.” Mr. Bender’s large face had a commensurate gaze. “As I say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh | tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.”<|quote|>Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.</|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so | The Outcry |
“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” | Theign | by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence | of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” | by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh | difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession | use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on | effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with | say? I haven’t said anything of the sort!” “But you do ‘love’ you know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only | on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend.<|quote|>“Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”</|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You | The Outcry |
“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” | Bender | as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord | I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. | the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and | sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message | with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may | Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it | know,” Lord John slightly overgrimaced. “I don’t when I don’t want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he | we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?”<|quote|>“Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious | The Outcry |
Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. | No speaker | to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at | “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” | _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. | then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes | picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed | only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to | want to. I’m different from most people--I can love or not as I like. The trouble with that Moretto,” Mr. Bender continued, “is that it ain’t what I’m after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in | “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.</|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so | The Outcry |
“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” | Bender | once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come | of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of | why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the | its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an | Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet | no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very | after.” His “after” had somehow, for the ear, the vividness of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep | the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light.<|quote|>“I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”</|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for | The Outcry |
VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. | No speaker | any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, | “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in | he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, | go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, | Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance | style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them | of a sharp whack on the resisting surface of things, and was concerned doubtless in Lord John’s speaking again across to their host. “The worst he can do for me, you see, is to refuse it.” Lord Theign, who practically had his back turned and was fairly dandling about in his impatience, tossed out to the terrace the cigarette he had but just lighted. Yet he faced round to reply: “It’s the very first time in the history of this house (a long one, Mr. Bender) that a picture, or anything else in it, has been offered----!” It was not imperceptible that even if he hadn’t dropped Mr. Bender mightn’t have been markedly impressed. “Then it must be the very first time such an offer has failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. | better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.”<|quote|>VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.</|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a | The Outcry |
“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” | Crimble | the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for | taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go | the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or | caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve | the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” | Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His | failed.” “Oh, it isn’t that we in the least press it!” Lord Theign quite naturally laughed. “Ah, I beg your pardon--I press it very hard!” And Lord John, as taking from his face and manner a cue for further humorous license, went so far as to emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, | that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it.<|quote|>“I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”</|quote|>he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m | The Outcry |
he cheerfully went on, | No speaker | ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to | be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The | others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, | to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve | And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their | figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his | emulate, though sympathetically enough, their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young | what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,”<|quote|>he cheerfully went on,</|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, | The Outcry |
“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” | Crimble | you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed | to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing | “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first | the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” | moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” | host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t | their companion’s native form. “You don’t mean to say you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if | their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on,<|quote|>“for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”</|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors | The Outcry |
The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. | No speaker | to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve | on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, | in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You | of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John | once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, | see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are | you don’t feel the interest of that Moretto?” Mr. Bender, quietly confident, took his time to reply. “Well, if you had seen me up on that chair you’d have thought I did.” “Then you must have stepped down from the chair properly impressed.” “I stepped down quite impressed with that young man.” “Mr. Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. | if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.”<|quote|>The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.</|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps | The Outcry |
“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” | Theign | the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent | man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly | so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce | what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. | to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But | no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord | Crimble?” --it came after an instant to Lord John. “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that | to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended.<|quote|>“Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”</|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it | The Outcry |
Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. | No speaker | I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, | apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if | generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real | depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work | the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work | guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more | “With _his_ opinion, really? Then I hope he’s aware of the picture’s value.” “You had better ask him,” Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender | from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.”<|quote|>Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.</|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher | The Outcry |
“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” | Crimble | no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have | were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship | slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” | proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” | justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took | Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, | Mr. Bender observed. “Oh, we don’t depend here on the Mr. Crimbles!” Lord John returned. Mr. Bender took a longer look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come | the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill.<|quote|>“I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”</|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of | The Outcry |
“A ‘Mantovano’?” | Theign | rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure | you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce | time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord | The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he | of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for | reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your | look at him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under | about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.”<|quote|>“A ‘Mantovano’?”</|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for | The Outcry |
You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. | No speaker | a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to | so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples | apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” | he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you | but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I | a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough | him. “Are you aware of the value yourself?” His friend resorted again, as for the amusement of the thing, to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ | one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?”<|quote|>You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.</|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder | The Outcry |
“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” | Crimble | first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already | pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you | clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” | it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as | which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: | you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in | to their entertainer. “Am I aware of the value of the Moretto?” Lord Theign, who had meanwhile lighted another cigarette, appeared, a bit extravagantly smoking, to wish to put an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll | difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life.<|quote|>“There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”</|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed | The Outcry |
But Lord John had already broken in. | No speaker | possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. | chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with | “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It | time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most | in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope | addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. | an end to his effect of hovering aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender | it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----”<|quote|>But Lord John had already broken in.</|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite | The Outcry |
“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” | Lord John | John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom | a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, | that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, | I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it | have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve | I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t | aloof. “That question needn’t trouble us--when I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you | you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in.<|quote|>“Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”</|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The | The Outcry |
“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” | Crimble | there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as | had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in | word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you | however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for | a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to | expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to | I see how much Mr. Bender himself knows about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” | him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!”<|quote|>“Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”</|quote|>Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let | The Outcry |
Hugh returned, | No speaker | with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began | Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That | “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” | clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has | your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of | violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for | about it.” “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he | regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,”<|quote|>Hugh returned,</|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing | The Outcry |
“was there as it began to work in me--” | Crimble | I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” | “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant | been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that | account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, | at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and | _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head | “Well, Lord Theign, I only know what that young man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in | that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned,<|quote|>“was there as it began to work in me--”</|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh | The Outcry |
“That your Moretto, Lord Theign” | Bender | began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant | returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a | the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” | possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately | ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His | John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” | man puts it at.” And then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to | Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--”<|quote|>“That your Moretto, Lord Theign”</|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very | The Outcry |
--Mr. Bender took their informant up-- | No speaker | “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto | began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued | by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he | a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a | he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, | And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment | then as the others waited, “Ten thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for | have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign”<|quote|>--Mr. Bender took their informant up--</|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that | The Outcry |
“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” | Bender | Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to | your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work | yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as | high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took | kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t | the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; | thousand,” said Mr. Bender. “Ten thousand?” The owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with | had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up--<|quote|>“isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”</|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things | The Outcry |
And he continued amusedly to Hugh: | No speaker | all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in | their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong | But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the | “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, | The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I | once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their | owner of the work showed no emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: | the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.”<|quote|>And he continued amusedly to Hugh:</|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; | The Outcry |
“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” | Bender | he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to | a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of | in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable | sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to | as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with | guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions | emotion. “Well,” said Lord John again in Mr. Bender’s style, “what’s the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s | on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh:<|quote|>“It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”</|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean | The Outcry |
“Do I understand you to suggest,” | Theign | sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the | began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my | whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has | time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ | was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in | Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them | the matter with ten thousand?” The subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that | Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!”<|quote|>“Do I understand you to suggest,”</|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall | The Outcry |
Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, | No speaker | I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t | like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly | “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has | been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech | through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably | voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m | subject of his gay tribute considered. “There’s nothing the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, | reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,”<|quote|>Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,</|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to | The Outcry |
“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” | Theign | of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what | to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, | me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately | about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; | heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently | he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of | the matter with ten thousand.” “Then,” Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again | you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man,<|quote|>“that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”</|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking | The Outcry |
Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. | No speaker | my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, | the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one | --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, | by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s | at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the | radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that | Lord Theign asked, “is there anything the matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than | it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?”<|quote|>Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.</|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so | The Outcry |
“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” | Crimble | knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this | picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on | after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as | the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these | in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The | approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, | matter with the picture?” “Yes, sir--I guess there is.” It gave an upward push to his lordship’s eyebrows. “But what in the world----?” “Well, that’s just the question!” The eyebrows continued to rise. “Does he pretend there’s a question of whether it _is_ a Moretto?” “That’s what he was up there trying to find out.” “But if the value’s, according to himself, ten thousand----?” “Why, of course,” said Mr. Bender, “it’s a fine work anyway.” “Then,” Lord Theign brought good-naturedly out, “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” | a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested.<|quote|>“As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”</|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher | The Outcry |
Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: | No speaker | I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that | began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very | wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t | asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and | to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in | have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning | “what’s the matter with _you_, Mr. Bender?” That gentleman was perfectly clear. “The matter with me, Lord Theign, is that I’ve no use for a ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took | account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.”<|quote|>Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:</|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what | The Outcry |
“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” | Theign | palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord | them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me | it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I | a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord | But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I | in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well | ten thousand picture.” “‘No use?’” --the expression had an oddity. “But what’s it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then | the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark:<|quote|>“I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”</|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them | The Outcry |
“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” | Crimble | you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his | to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from | saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh | it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than | Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel | depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name | it your idea to do with such things?” “I mean,” Mr. Bender explained, “that a picture of that rank is not what I’m after.” “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest | was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!”<|quote|>“I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”</|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated | The Outcry |
His lordship didn’t stint his attention. | No speaker | wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ | They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I | ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of | obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I | Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a | you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic | “The figure,” said his noble host--speaking thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, | then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.”<|quote|>His lordship didn’t stint his attention.</|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” | The Outcry |
“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” | Theign | lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I | then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and | Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning | a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that | up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then | your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m | thus, under pressure, commercially-- “is beyond what you see your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It | if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention.<|quote|>“Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”</|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in | The Outcry |
“I mean from those I know myself,” | Crimble | _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean | attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one | bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a | for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” | he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a | personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” | your way to?” But Lord John had jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a | caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?”<|quote|>“I mean from those I know myself,”</|quote|>said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have | The Outcry |
said Hugh; | No speaker | from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine | I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” | some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent | looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that | to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. | know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a | jumped at the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto | all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,”<|quote|>said Hugh;</|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t | The Outcry |
“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” | Crimble | I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these | know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so | good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he | looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know | in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another | if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” | the truth. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” | me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh;<|quote|>“and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”</|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole | The Outcry |
“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” | Theign | analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re | “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the | to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and | I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s | you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so | apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values | sees his way much further.” “Further?” their companion echoed. “The matter with Mr. Bender is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the | chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.”<|quote|>“Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”</|quote|>“Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every | The Outcry |
“Well,” | Crimble | so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a | these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very | splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things | on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view | picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely | so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are | is that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole | first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?”<|quote|>“Well,”</|quote|>Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the | The Outcry |
Hugh competently explained, | No speaker | remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing | years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the | broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our | the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. | isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, | plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh | that he wants to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount | had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,”<|quote|>Hugh competently explained,</|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture | The Outcry |
“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” | Crimble | noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed | have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at | didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t | he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid | Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be | least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree | to give millions.” Lord Theign sounded this abyss with a smile. “Well, there would be no difficulty about _that_, I think!” “Ah,” said his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord | a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained,<|quote|>“they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”</|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him | The Outcry |
Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. | No speaker | fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot | of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and | I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” | grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a | But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment | interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the | his guest, “you know the basis, sir, on which I’m ready to pay.” “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on | Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.”<|quote|>Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.</|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater | The Outcry |
“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” | Lord John | he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough | this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, | these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ | best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked | a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the | of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you | “On the basis then of the Sir Joshua,” Lord John inquired, “how far would you go?” Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to | not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood.<|quote|>“Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”</|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, | The Outcry |
“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” | Bender | than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your | about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get | sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it | his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were | passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered | you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a | Mr. Bender indicated by a gesture that on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all | clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!”<|quote|>“Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”</|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, | The Outcry |
Mr. Bender contributed, | No speaker | guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough | our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that | the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in | Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; | I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I | a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come | on a question reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all here--it could all | rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,”<|quote|>Mr. Bender contributed,</|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a | The Outcry |
“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” | Bender | for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so | “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we | meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? | know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a | it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender | “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, | reduced to a moiety by its conditional form he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all here--it could all be done, I think, at Verona. What besets, | very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed,<|quote|>“that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”</|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if | The Outcry |
“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” | Crimble | knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves | Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” | quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to | said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to | looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable | his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there | he could give but semi-satisfaction. “Well, I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all here--it could all be done, I think, at Verona. What besets, what quite haunts me,” Hugh explained, | no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!”<|quote|>“Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”</|quote|>cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea | The Outcry |
cried Hugh, | No speaker | that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough | enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words | this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. | fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our | saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of | for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, | I’d go all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all here--it could all be done, I think, at Verona. What besets, what quite haunts me,” Hugh explained, “is the | strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,”<|quote|>cried Hugh,</|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, | The Outcry |
“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!” | Crimble | go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken | get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s | with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a | with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for | to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the | first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or | all the way.” “He wants, you see,” Lord John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all here--it could all be done, I think, at Verona. What besets, what quite haunts me,” Hugh explained, “is the vivid image of a Mantovano--one of the glories | time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh,<|quote|>“unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”</|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. “Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any | The Outcry |
The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker. | No speaker | know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, | cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might | “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord | these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, | doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither | supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider | John elucidated, “an _ideally_ expensive thing.” Lord Theign appeared to decide after a moment to enter into the pleasant spirit of this; which he did by addressing his younger friend. “Then why shouldn’t I make even the Moretto as expensive as he desires?” “Because you can’t do violence to _that_ master’s natural modesty,” Mr. Bender declared before Lord John had time to speak. And conscious at this moment of the reappearance of his fellow-explorer, he at once supplied a further light. “I guess this gentleman at any rate can tell you.” VIII Hugh Crimble had come back from his voyage of discovery, and it was visible as he stood there flushed and quite radiant that he had caught in his approach Lord Theign’s last inquiry and Mr. Bender’s reply to it. You would have imputed to him on the spot the lively possession of a new idea, the sustaining sense of a message important enough to justify his irruption. He looked from one to the other of the three men, scattered a little by the sight of him, but attached eyes of recognition then to Lord Theign’s, whom he remained an instant longer communicatively smiling at. After which, as you might have gathered, he all confidently plunged, taking up the talk where the others had left it. “I should say, Lord Theign, if you’ll allow me, in regard to what you appear to have been discussing, that it depends a good deal on just that question--of what your Moretto, at any rate, may be presumed or proved to ‘be.’ Let me thank you,” he cheerfully went on, “for your kind leave to go over your treasures.” The personage he so addressed was, as we know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ higher?” the American continued to Hugh. “How much higher to _you?_” “Oh, I can size _that_. How much higher as a Mantovano?” Unmistakably--for us at least--our young man was gaining time; he had the instinct of circumspection and delay. “To any one?” “To any one.” “Than as a Moretto?” Hugh continued. It even acted on Lord John’s nerves. “That’s what we’re talking about--really!” But Hugh still took his ease; as if, with his eyes first on Bender and then on Lord Theign, whose back was practically presented, he were covertly studying signs. “Well,” he presently said, “in view of the very great interest combined with the very great rarity, more than--ah more than can be estimated off-hand.” It made Lord Theign turn round. “But a fine Moretto has a very great rarity and a very great interest.” “Yes--but not on the whole the same amount of either.” “No, not on the whole the same amount of either!” --Mr. Bender judiciously echoed it. “But how,” he freely pursued, “are you going to find out?” “Have I your permission, Lord Theign,” Hugh brightly asked, “to attempt to find out?” The question produced on his lordship’s part a visible, a natural anxiety. “What would it be your idea then to _do_ with my property?” “Nothing at all here--it could all be done, I think, at Verona. What besets, what quite haunts me,” Hugh explained, “is the vivid image of a Mantovano--one of the glories of the short list--in a private collection in that place. The conviction grows in | know, nothing if not generally affable; yet if that was just then apparent it was through a shade of coolness for the slightly heated familiarity of so plain, or at least so free, a young man in eye-glasses, now for the first time definitely apprehended. “Oh, I’ve scarcely ‘treasures’--but I’ve some things of interest.” Hugh, however, entering the opulent circle, as it were, clearly took account of no breath of a chill. “I think possible, my lord, that you’ve a great treasure--if you’ve really so high a rarity as a splendid Manto-vano.” “A ‘Mantovano’?” You wouldn’t have been sure that his lordship didn’t pronounce the word for the first time in his life. “There have been supposed to be only _seven_ real examples about the world; so that if by an extraordinary chance you find yourself the possessor of a magnificent eighth----” But Lord John had already broken in. “Why, there you _are_, Mr. Bender!” “Oh, Mr. Bender, with whom I’ve made acquaintance,” Hugh returned, “was there as it began to work in me--” “That your Moretto, Lord Theign” --Mr. Bender took their informant up-- “isn’t, after all, a Moretto at all.” And he continued amusedly to Hugh: “It began to work in you, sir, like very strong drink!” “Do I understand you to suggest,” Lord Theign asked of the startling young man, “that my precious picture isn’t genuine?” Well, Hugh knew exactly what he suggested. “As a picture, Lord Theign, as a great portrait, one of the most genuine things in Europe. But it strikes me as probable that from far back--for reasons!--there has been a wrong attribution; that the work has been, in other words, traditionally, obstinately miscalled. It has passed for a Moretto, and at first I quite took it for one; but I suddenly, as I looked and looked and saw and saw, began to doubt, and now I know _why_ I doubted.” Lord Theign had during this speech kept his eyes on the ground; but he raised them to Mr. Crimble’s almost palpitating presence for the remark: “I’m bound to say that I hope you’ve some very good grounds!” “I’ve three or four, Lord Theign; they seem to me of the best--as yet. They made me wonder and wonder--and then light splendidly broke.” His lordship didn’t stint his attention. “Reflected, you mean, from _other_ Mantovanos--that I don’t know?” “I mean from those I know myself,” said Hugh; “and I mean from fine analogies with one in particular.” “Analogies that in all these years, these centuries, have so remarkably not been noticed?” “Well,” Hugh competently explained, “they’re a sort of thing the very sense of, the value and meaning of, are a highly modern--in fact a quite recent growth.” Lord John at this professed with cordiality that he at least quite understood. “Oh, we know a lot more about our pictures and things than ever our ancestors did!” “Well, I guess it’s enough for _me_,” Mr. Bender contributed, “that your ancestors knew enough to get ‘em!” “Ah, that doesn’t go so far,” cried Hugh, “unless we ourselves know enough to keep ‘em!”<|quote|>The words appeared to quicken in a manner Lord Theign’s view of the speaker.</|quote|>“Were _your_ ancestors, Mr. Crimble, great collectors?” Arrested, it might be, in his general assurance, Hugh wondered and smiled. “Mine--collectors? Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t any--to speak of. Only it has seemed to me for a long time,” he added, “that on that head we should all feel together.” Lord Theign looked for a moment as if these were rather large presumptions; then he put them in their place a little curtly. “It’s one thing to keep our possessions for ourselves--it’s another to keep them for other people.” “Well,” Hugh good-humouredly returned, “I’m perhaps not so absolutely sure of myself, if you press me, as that I sha’n’t be glad of a higher and wiser opinion--I mean than my own. It would be awfully interesting, if you’ll allow me to say so, to have the judgment of one or two of the great men.” “You’re not yourself, Mr. Crimble, one of the great men?” his host asked with tempered irony. “Well, I guess he’s going to be, anyhow,” Mr. Bender cordially struck in; “and this remarkable exhibition of intelligence may just let him loose on the world, mayn’t it?” “Thank you, Mr. Bender!” --and Hugh obviously tried to look neither elated nor snubbed. “I’ve too much still to learn, but I’m learning every day, and I shall have learnt immensely this afternoon.” “Pretty well at my expense, however,” Lord Theign laughed, “if you demolish a name we’ve held for generations so dear.” “You may have held the name dear, my lord,” his young critic answered; “but my whole point is that, if I’m right, you’ve held the picture itself cheap.” “Because a Mantovano,” said Lord John, “is so much greater a value?” Hugh met his eyes a moment “Are you talking of values pecuniary?” “What values are _not_ pecuniary?” Hugh might, during his hesitation, have been imagined to stand off a little from the question. “Well, some things have in a higher degree that one, and some have the associational or the factitious, and some the clear artistic.” “And some,” Mr. Bender opined, “have them _all_--in the highest degree. But what you mean,” he went on, “is that a Mantovano would come higher under the hammer than a Moretto?” “Why, sir,” the young man returned, “there aren’t any, as I’ve just stated, _to_ ‘come.’ I account--or I easily can--for every one of the very small number.” “Then do you consider that you account for this one?” “I believe I shall if you’ll give me time.” “Oh, time!” Mr. Bender impatiently sighed. “But we’ll give you all we’ve got--only I guess it isn’t much.” And he appeared freely to invite their companions to join in this estimate. They listened to him, however, they watched him, for the moment, but in silence, and with the next he had gone on: “How much higher--if your idea is correct about it--would Lord Theign’s picture come?” Hugh turned to that nobleman. “Does Mr. Bender mean come to _him_, my lord?” Lord Theign looked again hard at Hugh, and then harder than he had done yet at his other invader. “I don’t know _what_ Mr. Bender means!” With which he turned off. “Well, I guess I mean that it would come higher to me than to any one! But how _much_ | The Outcry |
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