CHAPTER I.
[Scene-An Artist's Studio in Rome.]
"Oh, George, I do love you!"
"Bless your dear heart, Mary, I know that—why is your father so obdurate?"
"George, he means well, but art is folly to him—he only understands groceries. He thinks you would starve me."
"Confound his wisdom—it savors of inspiration. Why am I not a money-making bowelless grocer, instead of a divinely gifted sculptor with nothing to eat?"
"Do not despond, Georgy, dear—all his prejudices will fade away as soon as you shall have acquired fifty thousand dol—"
"Fifty thousand demons! Child, I am in arrears for my board!"