“It is my picture, anyhow,” said Cheriton, coolly, although he felt the game was rather going against him.
“It is not at all clear to my mind that it is your picture,” said the sharp-witted Caroline, to the delight of everybody. “You send a man to copy my Gainsborough, and he copies my niece.”
“A very natural error,” said the marquis, “as we have just explained to Cheriton.”
The Georgian Era was seen to grow uneasy. He began to fumble in his Georgian costume. Obviously he was not quite sure where the pockets were. At last, however, he was able to produce a pair of spectacles which he proceeded to adjust.
“Very good likeness,” said he, heavily. “Caroline, when the picture is finished I should like to purchase it for the Cheadle Collection.”
A salvo of laughter greeted this speech, but to laughter the speaker was constitutionally oblivious.
“The picture is not Caroline’s, my dear George,” said Cheriton. “The young fellow is painting it on my commission.”
“Excellent likeness,” said George, tenaciously. “I shall make you a fair offer, Cheriton, for the Cheadle Collection.”
“I am sorry, my dear George, for the sake of the Cheadle Collection,” said Cheriton, amiably; “but that picture is not for sale.”
“You are quite right, Cheriton,” said Caroline Crewkerne; “the picture is not for sale. I gave permission for a copy to be made of my Gainsborough, not of my niece.”