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Falcon agreed； with a lofty smile； and the purchases were made。
Mr。 Falcon painted a landscape or two out of his imagination。 The
dealers to whom he took them declined them； one advised the
gentleman painter to color tea…boards。 〃That's your line；〃 said
he。
〃The world has no taste；〃 said the gentleman painter： 〃but it has
got lots of vanity： I'll paint portraits。〃
He did； and formidable ones： his portraits were amazingly like the
people； and yet unlike men and women； especially about the face。
One thing； he didn't trouble with lights and shades； but went slap
at the features。
His brush would never have kept him； but he carried an instrument；
in the use of which he was really an artist； viz。； his tongue。 By
wheedling and undersellingfor he only charged a pound for the
painted canvashe contrived to live； then he aspired to dress as
well as live。 With this second object in view； he hit upon a
characteristic expedient。
He used to prowl about； and when he saw a young woman sweeping the
afternoon streets with a long silk train； and； in short； dressed to
ride in the park； yet parading the streets； he would take his hat
off to her； with an air of profound respect； and ask permission to
take her portrait。 Generally he met a prompt rebuff； but if the
fair was so unlucky as to hesitate a single moment； he told her a
melting tale； he had once driven his four…in…hand； but by indorsing
his friends' bills； was reduced to painting likeness； admirable
likenesses in oil； only a guinea each。
His piteous tale provoked more gibes than pity； but as he had no
shame； the rebuffs went for nothing： he actually did get a few
sitters by his audacity： and some of the sitters actually took the
pictures； and paid for them； others declined them with fury as soon
as they were finished。 These he took back with a piteous sigh；
that sometimes extracted half a crown。 Then he painted over the
rejected one and let it dry； so that sometimes a paid portrait
would present a beauty enthroned on the debris of two or three
rivals； and that is where few beauties would object to sit。
All this time he wrote nice letters to Phoebe； and adopted the tone
of the struggling artist； and the true lover； who wins his bride by
patience； perseverance； and indomitable industry； a babbled of
〃Self Help。〃
Meantime； Phoebe was not idle： an excellent business woman； she
took immediate advantage of a new station that was built near the
farm； to send up milk； butter； and eggs to London。 Being genuine；
they sold like wildfire。 Observing that； she extended her
operations； by buying of other farmers； and forwarding to London：
and then； having of course an eye to her struggling artist； she
told her father she must have a shop in London； and somebody in it
she could depend upon。
〃With all my heart； wench；〃 said he； 〃but it must not be thou。 I
can't spare thee。〃
〃May I have Dick； father？〃
〃Dick！ he is rather young。〃
〃But he is very quick； father； and minds every word I tell him。〃
〃Ay； he is as fond of thee as ever a cow was of a calf。 Well； you
can try him。〃
So the love…sick woman of business set up a little shop； and put
her brother Dick in it； and all to see more of her struggling
artist。 She stayed several days； to open the little shop； and
start the business。 She advertised pure milk； and challenged
scientific analysis of everything she sold。 This came of her being
a reader； she knew； by the journals； that we live in a sinful and
adulterating generation； and anything pure must be a godsend to the
poor poisoned public。
Now； Dr。 Staines； though known to the profession as a diagnost； was
also an analyst； and this challenge brought him down on Phoebe
Dale。 He told her he was a physician； and in search of pure food
for his own familywould she really submit the milk to analysis？
Phoebe smiled an honest country smile； and said； 〃Surely； sir。〃
She gave him every facility； and he applied those simple tests
which are commonly used in France； though hardly known in England。
He found it perfectly pure； and told her so； and gazed at Phoebe
for a moment； as a phenomenon。
She smiled again at that； her broad country smile。 〃That is a
wonder in London； I dare say。 It's my belief half the children
that die here are perished with watered milk。 Well； sir； we shan't
have that on our souls； father and I； he is a farmer in Essex。
This comes a many miles； this milk。〃
Staines looked in her face； with kindly approval marked on his own
eloquent features。 She blushed a little at so fixed a regard。
Then he asked her if she would supply him with milk； butter； and
eggs。
〃Why； if you mean sell you them； yes； sir； with pleasure。 But for
sending them home to you in this big town； as some do； I can't； for
there's only brother Dick and me： it is an experiment like。〃
〃Very well；〃 said Staines： 〃I will send for them。〃
〃Thank you kindly； sir。 I hope you won't be offended； sir； but we
only sell for ready money。〃
〃All the better： my order at home is； no bills。〃
When he was gone； Phoebe； assuming vast experience； though this was
only her third day； told Dick that was one of the right sort： 〃and
oh； Dick；〃 said she； 〃did you notice his eye？〃
〃Not particklar； sister。〃
〃There now； the boy is blind。 Why； 'twas like a jewel。 Such an
eye I never saw in a man's head； nor a woman's neither。〃
Staines told his wife about Phoebe and her brother； and spoke of
her with a certain admiration that raised Rosa's curiosity； and
even that sort of vague jealousy that fires at bare praise。 〃I
should like to see this phenomenon；〃 said she。 〃You shall；〃 said
he。 〃I have to call on Mrs。 Manly。 She lives near。 I will drop
you at the little shop； and come back for you。〃
He did so； and that gave Rosa a quarter of an hour to make her
purchases。 When he came back he found her conversing with Phoebe；
as if they were old friends； and Dick glaring at his wife with awe
and admiration。 He could hardly get her away。
She was far more extravagant in her praises than Dr。 Staines had
been。 〃What a good creature！〃 said she。 〃And how clever！ To
think of her setting up a shop like that all by herself； for her
Dick is only seventeen。〃
Dr。 Staines recommended the little shop wherever he went； and even
extended its operations。 He asked Phoebe to get her own wheat
ground at home； and send the flour up in bushel bags。 〃These
assassins； the bakers；〃 said he； 〃are putting copper into the flour
now； as well as alum。 Pure flour is worth a fancy price to any
family。 With that we can make the bread of life。 What you buy in
the shops is the bread of death。〃
Dick was a good； sharp boy； devoted to his sister。 He stuck to the
shop in London； and handed the money to Phoebe； when she came for
it。 She worked for it in Essex； and extended her country
connection for supply as the retail business increased。
Staines wrote an article on pure food； and incidentally mentioned
the shop as a place where flour； milk； and butter were to be had
pure。 This article was published in the Lancet； and caused quite a
run upon the little shop。 By and by Phoebe enlarged it； for which
there w