"Client!" she exclaimed; "and a grateful one! What a find! But why bring it here? Haven't we already more pictures than we want? Why at this moment there's half-a-dozen of extra plates from the Christmas numbers that you would have framed, waiting to be hung."
"But this, my love, is an oil-painting, with what I judge to be a very valuable old-fashioned frame."
By this time my present was revealed.
"Why, it's only the picture of a donkey!" exclaimed my better seven-eighths, with a laugh. "We really don't want that sort of thing in the hall or reception rooms."
"But it is really very fine!" I urged. "Look at the handling of that donkey's ears. And the frame, too, is simply magnificent."
"I don't so much mind the frame. We might take out the picture and put in 'The Arrival of the Boulogne Boat,' the Christmas supplement to the Young Lady's Boudoir, in its stead. And yet it is just as likely as not to spoil it. No, I think we had better put picture and frame in the box-room."
"But my dear," I remonstrated; "this may be a very valuable picture. The head of the donkey is quite remarkable and ——"
"Now do we want portraits of donkeys about the house? The boxroom or the dust-hole is the proper place for them."
"I know you objected to my own likeness—you see the connection with the donkey, dear?" I sometimes make rather humorous remarks during the continuance of the festive season.
"Don't be silly! But this hideous thing should really go into the box-room." And so it went. Perhaps on a future occasion I may trace the further adventures of my grateful client's gift. In my poor judgment they are distinctly interesting and instructive.