“I am afraid Uncle Zebina must look elsewhere for an assistant,” said the young artist. “I must not forget, dear Helen, that my good fortune comes through you.”
“You have been very kind to me, Herbert. I hope I shall be able to do more for you hereafter.”
“I regret, Mr. Coleman,” said the lawyer, “that I am unable to pay you this morning for your painting. I hope to be able to pay you next week.”
“That will be quite satisfactory, sir.”
“Meanwhile, as one who understands the world a little better than yourself, to suggest that, if your painting could be on exhibition a few days,—at Goupil’s, for instance,—with the name of the artist, and the label, ‘Sold,’ it might be of assistance to you. It will give the impression that your works are in demand.”
“A most excellent suggestion, for which I thank you. If your friend would be willing?”
“I undertake to engage that there will be no objection. Depend upon it, my young friend, there is nothing succeeds so well as success.”
“You may be sure, sir, that I appreciate your friendly feeling no less than the liberal patronage I have received through you. You have probably determined my future.”
“That will be a source of proud satisfaction to me, Mr. Coleman,” said the lawyer. “Let me suggest that you lose no time in making an arrangement to exhibit your painting, as proposed. It might do no harm to affix the price for which it was sold.”
“Thank you, sir. It is well thought of. I shall certainly adopt your suggestion.”