doubled up on round tables, or marble slabs, are
serious, you know; and all the ladies who are playing with little
parasols, or little dogs, or little children--it's the same rule in art,
only varying the objects--are smirking. In fact,' said Miss La Creevy,
sinking her voice to a confidential whisper, 'there are only two styles
of portrait painting; the serious and the smirk; and we always use the
serious for professional people (except actors sometimes), and the smirk
for private ladies and gentlemen who don't care so much about looking
clever.'

Kate seemed highly amused by this information, and Miss La Creevy went
on painting and talking, with immovable complacency.

'What a number of officers you seem to paint!' said Kate, availing
herself of a pause in the discourse, and glancing round the room.

'Number of what, child?' inquired Miss La Creevy, looking up from her
work. 'Character portraits, oh yes--they're not real military men, you
know.'

'No!'

'Bless your heart, of course not; only clerks and that, who hire a
uniform coat to be painted in, and send it here in a carpet bag.
Some artists,' said Miss La Creevy, 'keep a red coat, and charge
seven-and-sixpence extra for hire and carmine; but I don't do that
myself, for I don't consider it legitimate.'

Drawing herself up, as though she plumed herself greatly upon not
resorting to these lures to catch sitters, Miss La Creevy applied
herself, more intently, to her task: only raising her head occasionally,
to look with unspeakable satisfaction at some touch she had just put
in: and now and then giving Miss Nickleby to understand what particular
feature she was at work upon, at the moment; 'not,' she expressly
observed, 'that you should make it up for painting, my dear, but because
it's our custom sometimes to tell sitters what part we are upon, in
order that if there's any particular expression they want introduced,
they may throw it in, at the time, you know.'

'And when,' said Miss La Creevy, after a long silence, to wit, an
interval of full a minute and a half, 'when do you expect to see your
uncle again?'

'I scarcely know; I had expected to have seen him before now,' replied
Kate. 'Soon I hope, for this state of uncertainty is worse than
anything.'

'I suppose he has money, hasn't he?' inquired Miss La Creevy.

'He is very rich, I have heard,' rejoined Kate. 'I don't know that he
is, but I believe so.'

'Ah, you may depend upon it he is, or he w