said he, 'I have no idea of
seeing myself one of these days hanging in a rag-shop side by side with
Napoleon and old Fritz.' He has queer fancies, that old fellow. There
is no telling where he will strike out next."

"Never mind my uncle now. You painted my mother's picture for me,--did
you not?"

"Yes, if you want it. Come here a moment; stand just there. The eyes
are the least satisfactory part of the picture to me, and the doctor
said the same thing when he was here this morning. He meant to bring a
friend with him who is something of an artist, but he did not get out
of bed early enough. You have exactly your mother's eyes. Stand there a
minute, just as you are. Now keep quiet, and think of something
pleasant,--of some one you are going to do a kindness to. Remember
Faller and his house, then you will have just your mother's hearty
expression; not a smile, but such a kind, cordial look. So,--that is it
exactly. Don't blink. Nay, I cannot paint you if you cry."

"The tears will come," apologized Lenz. "I could not help thinking how
my mother's eyes--"

"Well, well; we will let it be. I know now what is needed. Let us take
a recess; and high time we did too, for it is almost noon. You will eat
your dinner with me, won't you?"

"Don't be offended; but I must dine with my Uncle Petrovitsch to-day."

"Nothing you could do would offend me. Tell me now about yourself."

Lenz laid before his friend the plan he had half formed of going abroad
for a year or two, and urged him to carry out their boyish project of
going together. Perhaps the luck they had hoped for in those days might
be realized now.

"Don't do it; don't go," urged Pilgrim. "You and I, Lenz, were never
meant to be rich men, and it is best so. My Don Bastian is the sort of
man to make money. He has travelled over the whole world, and knows as
little about it as the cow does of the creed. Wherever he went,
whatever place he entered, his one thought was how to make money, how
to save and to cheat. So he got on everywhere. The Spanish peasant is
as cunning as the German, and likes nothing so well as to get the
better of his neighbors. When my Don Bastian came home, he brought
nothing with him but his money, and had nothing to do but to dispose of
that to the best advantage. Such a man as that will get on in the
world."

"And we?"

"He whose pleasure lies in things that cannot be had for gold needs no
money. All the superfluous chink that I have is my