the causes why the Italian masters admit of copyists with greater
facility than the Flemish,--"surely, sir, you yourself must have
practised the art of painting?"

"Not I; but I instructed myself as a judge of pictures, because at one
time I was a collector."

Fairthorn, speaking for the first time: "The rarest collection,--such
Albert Durers! such Holbeins! and that head by Leonardo da Vinci!" He
stopped; looked extremely frightened; helped himself to the port, turning
his back upon his host, to hold, as usual, the glass to the light.

"Are they here, sir?" asked Lionel.

Darrell's face darkened, and he made no answer; but his head sank on his
breast, and he seemed suddenly absorbed in gloomy thought. Lionel felt
that he had touched a wrong chord, and glanced timidly towards Fairthorn;
but that gentleman cautiously held up his finger, and then rapidly put it
to his lip, and as rapidly drew it away. After that signal the boy did
not dare to break the silence, which now lasted uninterruptedly till
Darrell rose, and with the formal and superfluous question, "Any more
wine?" led the way back to the library. There he ensconced himself in an
easy-chair, and saying, "Will you find a book for yourself, Lionel?"
took a volume at random from the nearest shelf, and soon seemed absorbed
in its contents. The room, made irregular by baywindows, and shelves
that projected as in public libraries, abounded with nook and recess. To
one of these Fairthorn sidled himself, and became invisible. Lionel
looked round the shelves. No belles lettres of our immediate generation
were found there; none of those authors most in request in circulating
libraries and literary institutes. The shelves disclosed no poets, no