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Updated: May 25, 2025
Tapotte is not only going to sit for a companion half-length to Madame's portrait, but he has given me a commission for half-a-dozen ancestors. Fancy half-a-dozen illustrious dead-and-done Tapottes! What a scope for the imagination! What a bewildering vista of billets de banque! I feel ah, mon ami!
"What of that? Our Tapottes will never find out the difference. By the way, I told them you were a great English Milord, so please keep up the character." "I will try to do credit to the peerage." "And if you would not mind throwing in a word of English every now and then ... a little Goddam, for instance.. . Eh?" I laughed and shook my head.
But you must permit me to inform you that Milord Smithfield is not sitting for his own portrait." The Tapottes looked at each other in a state bordering on stupefaction. "His lordship," continued Müller, "is sitting for the portrait of one of his illustrious ancestors a nobleman of the period of Queen Elizabeth." Tapotte mari scratched his head, and smiled feebly.
"Whether I can, or can't, it seems I must," he replied, kicking open the door of his studio as viciously as if it were the corporeal frame of Monsieur Richard. "The only question is how? At the present moment, I haven't five francs in the till." "Nor have I more than twenty. How much is it?" "A hundred and sixty worse luck!" "Haven't the Tapottes paid for any of their ancestors yet?"
I replied with infinite condescension that I would endeavor to do so. I then made the stiffest of stiff bows to the excellent Tapottes, and, ushered to the door by Müller, took my departure majestically in the character of Lord Smithfield.
So saying, Müller, having stopped me as I was coming down the steps of the Hôtel Dieu, linked his arm in mine, drew me into a shady angle under the lee of Notre Dame, and, without leaving me time to reply, went on pouring out his light, eager chatter as readily as a mountain-spring bubbles out its waters. "I thought you'd like to know about the Tapottes, you see and I was dying to tell you.
I went to your rooms last night between eight and nine, and you were out; so I thought the only sure way was to come here I know you never miss Bollinet's Lectures. Well, as I was saying, the Tapottes.... Oh, mon cher! I am your debtor for life in that matter of Milord Smithfield. It has been the making of me. What do you think?
The Tapottes left off whispering, and listened breathlessly. "He is evidently a great painter, not' jeune homme!" said Madame in one of her large whispers. To which Monsieur replied as audibly: "Ça se voit, ma femme sacre nom d'une pipe!" "Milford will do me the favor to sit again on Friday?" said Müller, as I took up my hat and gloves.
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