Fenwick's Career

by Mrs. Humphry Ward

'Then for goodness' sake, don't give me any more!' cried Lord Findon. 'It's no joke, Eugénie, this sipping business—Where were we? Oh, well, of course I knew we should have to take it—and I don't say I'm not pleased with it. But two hundred!'

'Not a penny less,' said Eugénie—'and the apotheosis of my frock alone is worth the money. Two hundred for that—and two-fifty for the other?'

'Welby told me that actually was the price he had put on it! The young man won't starve, my dear, for want of knowing his own value.'

'I shouldn't wonder if he had been rather near starving,' said
Eugénie, gravely.

'Nothing of the kind, Eugénie,' said her father, testily. 'You think everybody as sensitive as yourself. I assure you, young men are tough, and can stand a bit of hardship.'

'They seem to require butcher's meat, all the same,' said Eugénie. 'Do you know, papa, that I have been extremely uncomfortable about our behaviour to Mr. Fenwick?'

'I entirely fail to see why,' said Lord Findon, absently. He was holding his watch in his hand, and calculating seconds.

'We have let him paint my portrait without ever saying a word of money—and you have always behaved as though you meant to buy the "Genius Loci."'

'Well, so I do mean to buy it,' said Lord Findon, closing his watch with a sigh of satisfaction.

'You should have told him so, papa, and advanced him some money.'