"When shall we begin?" asked Mr. Granger.
"My time is entirely at your disposal."
"In that case, the sooner the thing is done the better. My wife cannot come
to your studio--she has so many claims upon her time--but that would make
no difficulty, I suppose?"
"Not at all. I can paint Mrs. Granger in her own rooms as well as in mine,
if the light will serve."
"One of our drawing-rooms faces the north," answered Mr. Granger, "and
the windows are large--larger than I like. Any loss of time which you may
suffer in accommodating Mrs. Granger must, of course, be considered in the
price of your pictures."
"I have only one price for my pictures," replied Mr. Austin, with a
loftiness that astonished his patron. "I charge fifty guineas for a
portrait of that kind--whether it is painted for a duke or a grocer in the
Rue St. Honore."
"I will give you a hundred guineas for each of the pictures, if they are
successes," said Mr. Granger. "If they are failures, I will give you your
own price, and make you a present of the canvasses."
"I am not a stoic, and have no objection to accept a premium of a hundred
guineas from so distinguished a capitalist as Mr. Granger," returned Austin
Lovel, smiling. "I don't think Mrs. Granger's portrait will be a failure,"
he added confidently, with a little look at Clarissa.
Sophia Granger saw the look, and resented it. The painter had said nothing
of her portrait.
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