"What's that you say?" said Mr. Stompff, turning upon him sharply. "What's that you say?" he repeated in a gentler tone, laying his hand softly upon Geoffrey Ludlow's shoulder--"a long time before you paint again? Why, nonsense my good fellow; you don't know what nonsense you're talking."
"No nonsense, Mr. Stompff, but plain, honest, simple fact. I seem to have lost all zest for my art; my spirit is broken, and--"
"Of course, my good fellow; I understand all that well enough; too much England,--that's what it is. Home of the free, and ruling the waves and all that. Pickles! Capital place to sell pictures; deuced bad place to paint 'em. Now look here. You've been good enough to say more than once that Ive been your friend, eh? Not that Ive ever done more than give a good price for good work, though that's more than some people do--some people, eh? we know who--never mind. Now, I want you to do me a turn, and I am sure you will."
Geoffrey bowed his head and said, "So long as you don't require a picture from me--"
"Picture! O no; of course not. A steam engine, or a hansom cab, or a stilton cheese--that's what I look for from you naturally, isn't it? Ludlow, my dear fellow, how can you talk such stuff? Now listen. The British public, sir, has had a sickener of British subjects. Little Dab and his crew have pretty nearly used up all the sentimental domesticity; and we've had such a lot of fancy fairs, and Hyde Parks, and noble volunteers, and archery fêtes, and gals playing at croky, that the B.P. won't stand it any longer. There'll be a reaction, you'll see; and the 'Cademy will be choke full of Charles the Seconds, and Nell Gwynns, and coves in wigs, and women in powder and patches, and all that business, just because the modern every-day gaff has been done to death. I shall have to give in to this; and I shall give in of course. There's lots of coves can do that trick for me well enough to sell. But I look for more from you;--and this is what I propose. You go straight away out of this; where, I don't care--so long as you remain away a year or so, and keep your eyes about you. You'll work hard enough,--I don't fear that; and whatever you do, send it home to me and I'll take it. Lor' bless you, there's rigs that the B.P. knows nothing about, and that would make stunnin' objects for you--a table-d'hôte on the Rhine, a students' kneipe at Heidelberg, a schützenfest in Switzerland; and then you've never been to Italy yet, and though that game's been worked pretty often, yet any thing Italian from you would sell like mad." He paused for a moment and looked up at Geoffrey, whose eyes were fixed intently on him, and who seemed eager and excited.
"It's all one to me," said he; "I scarcely know what to say; it's very kind of you. I know you mean it well; but do you think I can do it? Do you really think so?"
"Think so! I know so," said Mr. Stompff. "See here! I never take up a thing of this sort without carrying it through. We said five hundred for the 'Esplanade,' didn't we? you've had three on account--that's right! Now here's the other two; and if you're as well pleased with the bargain as me, no knife shall cut our love in two, as the song says. Now you must leave this money behind for the old lady and the little 'un, and that nice sister of yours---O yes, by the way, what makes Charley Potts paint her head in all his pictures, and why don't he sell to me instead of Caniche?--and here's a hundred in circular notes. I went round to my bank and got 'em this morning on purpose for you to go abroad with. When they're done, you know where to send for some more."
"You are very kind, Mr. Stompff, but--"
"No, I ain't. I'm a man of business, I am; and there ain't many as is very fond of me. But I know what the B.P. wants, and I know a good fellow when I see one; and when I do see one, I don't often laacklet him slide. I ain't a polished sort of cove," said Mr. Stompff reflectively; "I leave that to Caniche, with his paw-paw bowins and scrapins; but I ain't quite so black as some of the artists paint me. However, this is a matter of business that I'm rather eager about; and I should be glad to know if I may look upon it as settled."
"Look here, Mr. Stompff," said Geoffrey Ludlow, turning to his companion, and speaking in an earnest voice; "you have behaved generously to me, and you deserve that I should speak frankly with you. I should immensely like to get away from this place for a while, to shake off the memory of all that has passed within the last few months--so far as it is possible for me to shake it off--to get into new scenes, and to receive fresh impressions. But I very much doubt whether I shall be able to undertake what you wish. I feel as if all the little power I ever had were gone; as if my brain were as barren to conceive as I know my hand is impotent to execute; I feel--"