263 in the Exhibition,
"Portrait of a Lady and Child"), and we found that Clive had been with the
painter that morning likewise; and that J. J. was acquainted with his
scheme. That he did not approve of it we could read in the artist's grave
countenance. "Nor does Clive approve of it either!" cried Ridley, with
greater eagerness than he usually displayed, and more openness than he
was accustomed to exhibit in judging unfavourably of his friends.
"Among them they have taken him away from his art," Ridley said. "They
don't understand him when he talks about it; they despise him for
pursuing it. Why should I wonder at that? my parents despised it too, and
my father was not a grand gentleman like the Colonel, Mrs. Pendennis. Ah!
why did the Colonel ever grow rich? Why had not Clive to work for his
bread as have? He would have done something that was worthy of him then;
now his time must be spent in dancing attendance at balls land operas,
and yawning at City board-rooms. They call that business: they think he
is idling when he comes here, poor fellow! As if life was long enough for
our art; and the best labour we can give, good enough for it! He went
away groaning this morning, and quite saddened in spirits.
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