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1884.] from Reginald, and it appeared to have an irritating effect on Manette, who answered curtly,—

"Different prices."

"And where should you live, my dear, if you married him? How should you manage?"

"Manage what, mamma?"

"Mamma means everything," said the older sister, joining in the discussion.

"Everything is rather vague, Sara," Manette replied.

"Should you keep house, or board?" said Mrs. Ellice, endeavoring to put into words some of her longings for detail.

"Mercy, mamma!" cried Nettie; "keep house! No, indeed; we couldn't afford that."

"Then probably you would board," said Sara, who was generally credited with the clear head of the family.

"I suppose." said Manette, "that for a while we might live in rooms. In fact," she added, in a burst of confidence, "I shouldn't wonder if for a while we lived right on in Frank's studio. Lots of artists do live so."

"I guess his pictures don't bring much," said Reginald, in a manner inclusive of a sniff.

"I'm not aware that I said they brought a thousand dollars apiece, did I?" said Manette, by way of retort.

"I must say, Manette," resumed Mr. Ellice, "that this appears to me to be a very impracticable affair; and I confess that I have never regarded the artistic profession with much favor, unless, indeed, the individual talent was of a very high order."

"I don't know what you mean by such slurring remarks, papa. Frank is not rich, to be sure, nor distinguished yet, but he is doing well, and his reputation is growing every year. He can take care of me, or he wouldn't have asked me to marry him. It may not be in a way to satisfy you and mamma, but it would content me. I love the studio-life. Besides," she added, "I love him dearly."

"But there would be the cooking, Nettie, and your washing," said Mrs. Ellice practically. "I don't see how you could get along. You have had every comfort all your life, and now to think of your branching off and living in this harum-scarum sort of fashion! You don't realize what it would be. I believe it would break my heart."

"Oh, no, mamma dear. No, it wouldn't. You'll see. I shall be as happy as a queen. As for washing, why, Frank must have his things washed somehow. I'll get mine done the same way."

"And your meals?"

"Oh, the meals are no trouble. We'll manage those easily, somehow or other. Restaurants, you know, and sardines and crackers, and everything comes potted and canned."

"You would lose your circle entirely, Nettie. You would have no place to entertain, or receive calls, or—"

"Oh, yes, mamma; everybody comes to the studios; and it's no end of fun."

"I wish," said Mr. Ellice, "that Mr. Roscoe were somewhat more prominent in his line. It would be more satisfactory to me. Now, if he were an artist like Church—I remember his painting of 'The Heart of the Andes' well. It was on exhibition in New York at one time. An artist of eminence would be less objectionable to me."

"You seem to forget, papa, that Frank is young. I don't suppose Church was always famous. Give us a little time, and you will see," said Manette, nodding her curly head sagely.

"What has Mr. Roscoe painted, Manette? I don't recall any of his works."

"Why, papa, there was his 'Bathsheba,' at the very last spring exhibition. You saw it yourself; don't you remember?—a woman in a white-and-gold robe, with glorious red hair about her shoulders. It was very well spoken of by all the critics,—except one," she admitted reluctantly, "and he was an idiot."

"I should not have thought the subject a fitting one for public display, my dear. I do not admire his taste. I fear I should have agreed with the critic you speak of as an idiot."

"Oh, nonsense, papa! how narrow