First P.P. (sympathetically).  Well, I do think WHISTLER might have told him of it!

IN THE SECOND ROOM.

The Matron in Search of a Subject. Ah, now, this really is more my idea of a picture.  Quite a pretty cretonne those curtains, and there’s a little girl reading a book, and a looking-glass with reflections and all, and a young lady in a riding-habit—­just going out for a ride.

Caroline. Yes.  Mother.  Or just come in from one.

Her Mother. Do see what it’s called. “The Morning Canter” or “Back from the Row”—­something of that kind, I expect it would be.

Caroline. All it says is, “A Harmony in Green and Rose.”

The Mother (disappointed).  Now, why can’t he give it some sensible name, instead of taking away all one’s interest!

The Phil.  Uncle (whom a succession of Symphonies and Harmonies has irritated to the verge of fury).  Don’t talk to me, Sir!  Don’t tell me any of these things are pictures.  Look at this—­a young woman in an outlandish dress sitting on the floor—­on the bare floor!—­in a litter of Japanese sketches!  And he has the confounded impertinence to call it a “Caprice”—­a “Caprice in Purple and Gold.” I’d purple and gold him, Sir, if I had my way!  Where’s the sense in such things?  What do they teach you?  What story do they tell?  Where’s the human interest in them?  Depend upon it, Sir, these things are rubbish—­sheer rubbish, according to all my notions of Art, and I think you’ll allow I ought to know something about it?

His Nephew (provoked beyond prudence).  You certainly ought to know more than that, my dear Unc—­Are you going?

The Uncle (grimly).  Yes—­to see my Solicitor, Sir. (To himself, savagely.) That confounded young prig will find he’s paid dear enough for his precious Whistlers—­if I don’t have a fit in the cab!

    [He goes; the Nephew wonders whether his attempt at
    proselytising was quite worth while.

A Seriously Elderly Lady. I’ve no patience with the man.  Look at GUTSTAVE DORE, now.  I’m sure he was a beautiful artist, if you like.  Did he go and call his “Leaving the Praetorium” a “Symphony” or a “Harmony,” or any nonsense of that kind?  Of course not—­and yet look at the difference!

An Impressionable Person (carried away by the local influence—­to the Man at the wicket, blandly).  Could you kindly oblige me by exchanging this “Note in Black and White” for an “Arrangement in Silver and Gold”?

    [Finds himself cruelly misunderstood, and suspected of
    frivolity.

* * * * *

PERSONAL PARAGRAPHS.