"How long is this ass going to stay here boring us, I wonder?" murmured Philip.
"But to return to the object of my visit," said Sir Benjamin. "A few days ago my daughter got married, and, among other presents, I gave her the choice of two pictures in my gallery. It has left two empty spaces on my wall, one eighteen by twenty-four, another thirty-six by fifty. Now, what have you got that would fill them?"
"Framed or unframed?" said Philip, who by this time was beginning to thoroughly enjoy the situation.
"Bless me, framed, of course," said Sir Benjamin.
"I asked the question merely to form an idea of the size of the canvas."
"Do you think you have what I want? Some pictures that you have finished lately? If they are a trifle smaller, it won't matter much. I like wide frames, they show their value better; and no picture ever suffered from a good-sized frame. I have all my frames made at Denis's ... only the French know how to frame pictures and bind books."
"A sensible remark," said Lorimer to himself.
"I am afraid I have nothing to suit you," said Philip, in the tone of a bootmaker, who has not the right-sized shoes for his customer.
The alderman took a rule out of his pocket, and measured several canvases that Philip placed on Dora's easel, after having removed the copy that she was doing of her own portrait.
"Too small ... too small again ... oh, much too small. By George, what a pity!"