"How have they treated you badly, Tidd?" asked Potts, in the hope of turning the conversation away from Ludlow and his doings.
"How!" screamed Tidd; "in a thousand ways! Theyve a personal hatred of me, sir--that's what they have! Ive tried every dodge and painted in every school, and they won't have me. The year after Smith made a hit with that miserable picture 'Measuring Heights,' from the Vicar of Wakefield, I sent in 'Mr. Burchell cries Fudge!'--kicked out! The year after, Mr. Ford got great praise for his wretched daub of 'Dr. Johnson reading Goldsmith's Manuscript.' I sent in 'Goldsmith, Johnson, and Bozzy at the Mitre Tavern'--kicked out!--a glorious bit of humour, in which I'd represented all three in different stages of drunkenness--kicked out!"
"I suppose you've not been used worse than most of us, Tidd," growled Mr. Bowker. "She's an unjust stepmother, is the R.A. of A. But she snubs pretty nearly every body alike."
"Not at all!" said Tidd. "Here's this Ludlow--"
"What of him?" interposed Potts quickly.
"Can any one say that his painting is--ah, well! poor devil! it's no good saying any thing more about him; he'll have quite enough to bear on his own shoulders soon."
"What, when he's an Associate!" said Bowker, who inwardly was highly delighted at Tidd's evident rage.
"Associate!--stuff! I mean when he's married."
"Married? Is Ludlow going to be married?"
"Of course he is. Haven't you heard it? it's all over town." And indeed it would have been strange if the story had not permeated all those parts of the town which Mr. Tidd visited, as he himself had laboured energetically for its circulation. "It's all over town--O, a horrible thing! horrible thing!"