away; and I accept your kindness; it will make all safe."

Vance, with surprising alacrity, slipped the sovereigns into the old
man's hand; for truth to say, though thrifty, the artist was really
generous. His organ of caution was large, but that of acquisitiveness
moderate. Moreover, in those moments when his soul expanded with his
art, he was insensibly less alive to the value of money. And strange it
is that, though States strive to fix for that commodity the most abiding
standards, yet the value of money to the individual who regards it shifts
and fluctuates, goes up and down half-a-dozen times a day. For any part,
I honestly declare that there are hours in the twenty-four--such, for
instance, as that just before breakfast, or that succeeding a page of
this History in which I have been put out of temper with my performance
and myself--when any one in want of five shillings at my disposal would
find my value of that sum put it quite out of his reach; while at other
times--just after dinner, for instance, or when I have effected what
seems to me a happy stroke, or a good bit of colour, in this historical
composition--the value of those five shillings is so much depreciated
that I might be,--I think so, at least,--I might be almost tempted to
give them away for nothing. Under some such mysterious influences in the
money-market, Vance therefore felt not the loss of his three sovereigns;
and returning to his easel, drove away Lionel and Sophy, who had taken
that opportunity to gaze on the canvas.

"Don't do her justice at all," quoth Lionel; "all the features
exaggerated."

"And you pretend to paint!" returned Vance, in great scorn, and throwing
a cloth over his canvas. "To-morrow, Mr. Waife, the same hour. Now,
Lionel, get your hat, and come away."