"No, of course not," replied the doctor. "Besides, it can't be done."
"Of course it can't, because nature is so endlessly full of details which can
never all be considered. The thing is to suggest their presence."
"Quite so," said the doctor.
But when he came to gaze upon the face he loved so well, and saw it transformed into outlines and general masses, he seemed a little surprised.
"Well, of course," he said, "it is excellent—oh, it's very, very good—but don't you think you have made me a little too old? I have no lines at the corner of my mouth, and my hair is not quite so thin."
He appealed to the aide-de-camp who was just then passing by.
"Dundas, is this like me?"
"Certainly, Doc; but it's ten years younger."
The doctor's smile darkened, and he began rather insistently to praise the Old Masters.