"The 'All is open to the public under my supervision," said the porter pompously. "Come inside, please."
"Thank you," replied the lady. "Put those things down, Johnnie. That's right. I'll let you know when to come for them. Good-morning."
"We don't often 'ave hartists 'ere, miss," remarked the porter, "and I sometimes thinks as pictures is wasted on gentlemen dinin' with City Companies. They ain't runnin' pertic'ler strong on hart just then. Which one is it you want?"
"I don't know the title," replied the artist, "but I shall know the picture when I see it. It's a portrait."
"P'raps Nicholas Tiffany," the porter suggested, "the first warden of the company, painted by 'Olbein. Born 1455. Lived to the ripe age of ninety-four, and died regretted by his sovereign and his country. His estates were seized by his creditors. Here he is, miss."
The man opened the door of the Livery Room, the walls of which were hung with many pictures. "This is Tiffany," he said, pointing to a disreputable-looking portrait.
The lady looked at it doubtfully. "The painting I want is the one nearest to the door of the plate room," she said.
"Then it's a good bit away from it, miss. The plate room is off the Banqueting 'All, and they are all windows on that side. The pictures are opposite."
"Dear me," said the lady. "How very stupidly I have been informed. Please show me the room."
The porter led the way, and threw open the door with pardonable pride. "The Banqueting 'All of the Honourable Company of Fellmongers!" he exclaimed. It was the famous hall in which heads of City Companies and ruling sovereigns are intermittently entertained. Down one wall were ranged portraits of eminent fellmongers. The other three were pierced by doors and windows.