he found it impossible to employ
assistance; he was forced, therefore, to work a much longer time himself
to obtain the same emolument. His wife had finished several pictures
which were not without merit; but the dealers were scarcely buying those
of artists with reputations; consequently, her paintings had little
chance. Ginevra offered them for almost nothing, but without success.

The situation of the household now began to be alarming. The souls
of the husband and wife floated on the ocean of their happiness,
love overwhelmed them with its treasures, while poverty rose, like a
skeleton, amid their harvest of joy. Yet, all the while, they hid from
each other their secret anxiety. When Ginevra felt like weeping as she
watched Luigi's worn and suffering face, she redoubled her caresses; and
Luigi, keeping his dark forebodings in the depths of his soul, expressed
to his Ginevra the tenderest love. They sought a compensation for their
troubles in exalting their feelings; and their words, their joys, their
caresses became suffused, as it were, with a species of frenzy. They
feared the future. What feeling can be compared in strength with that of
a passion which may cease on the morrow, killed by death or want?
When they talked together of their poverty each felt the necessity
of deceiving the other, and they fastened with mutual ardor on the
slightest hope.

One night Ginevra woke and missed Luigi from her side. She rose in
terror. A faint light shining on the opposite wall of the little
court-yard revealed to her that her husband was working in his study at
night. Luigi was now in the habit of waiting till his wife was asleep,
and then going up to his garret to write. Four o'clock struck. Ginevra
lay down again, and pretended to sleep. Presently Luigi returned,
overcome with fatigue and drowsiness. Ginevra looked sadly on the
beautiful, worn face, where toil and care were already drawing lines of
wrinkles.

"It is for me he spends his nights in writing," she said to herself,
weeping.

A thought dried her tears. She would imitate Luigi. That same day she
went to a print-shop, and, by help of a letter of recommendation she had
obtained from Elie Magus, one of her picture-dealers, she obtained an
order for the coloring of lithographs. During the day she painted her
pictures and attended to the cares of the household; then, when night
came, she colored the engravings. This loving couple entered their
nuptial bed only t