ted, there was yet a gentleness about him which could not fail to
conciliate and prepossess; nor did Clarence omit any opportunity
to soften his reserve, and wind himself into his more intimate
acquaintance. Warner, the only support of an aged and infirm grandmother
(who had survived her immediate children), was distantly related to Mrs.
Copperas; and that lady extended to him, with ostentatious benevolence,
her favour and support. It is true that she did not impoverish the
young Adolphus to enrich her kinsman, but she allowed him a seat at her
hospitable board, whenever it was not otherwise filled; and all that she
demanded in return was a picture of herself, another of Mr. Copperas,
a third of Master Adolphus, a fourth of the black cat, and from time to
time sundry other lesser productions of his genius, of which, through
the agency of Mr. Brown, she secretly disposed at a price that
sufficiently remunerated her for whatever havoc the slender appetite of
the young painter was able to effect.

By this arrangement, Clarence had many opportunities of gaining that
intimacy with Warner which had become to him an object; and though the
painter, constitutionally diffident and shy, was at first averse to, and
even awed by, the ease, boldness, fluent speech, and confident address
of a man much younger than himself, yet at last he could not resist the
being decoyed into familiarity; and the youthful pair gradually advanced
from companionship into friendship. There was a striking contrast
between the two: Clarence was bold and frank, Warner close and timid.
Both had superior abilities; but the abilities of Clarence were for
action, those of Warner for art: both were ambitious; but the ambition
of Clarence was that of circumstances rather than character. Compelled
to carve his own fortunes without sympathy or aid, he braced his mind to
the effort, though naturally too gay for the austerity, and too genial
for the selfishness of ambition. But the very essence of Warner's nature
was the feverish desire of fame: it poured through his veins like lava;
it preyed as a worm upon his cheek; it corroded his natural sleep;
it blackened the colour of his thoughts; it shut out, as with an
impenetrable wall, the wholesome energies and enjoyments and objects of
living men; and, taking from him all the vividness of the present, all
the tenderness of the past, constrained his heart to dwell forever and
forever amidst the dim and shadowy chimeras