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Rh

H, George, I do love you!"

"Bless your dear heart, Mary, I know that—why is your father so obdurate?"

"Georgy, he means well, but art is folly to him—he only understands groceries. He thinks you would starve me."

"Confound his wisdom—it savours of inspiration. Why am I not a money-making, bowelless grocer, instead of a divinely-gifted sculptor with nothing to eat?"

"Do not despond, George, dear—all his prejudices will fade away as soon as you shall have acquired fifty thousand dol—"

"Fifty thousand demons! Child, I am in arrears for my board!"

"My dear sir, it is useless to talk. I haven't anything against you, but I can't let my daughter marry a hash of love, art, and starvation—I believe you have nothing else to offer."