"What--I! what--I! You are very young, sir,--a gentleman born
and bred, I'll swear; and you to be seen, perhaps by some of your
friends or family, with an old vagrant like me, in the Queen's
palace,--the public gardens! I should be the vilest wretch if I took
such advantage of your goodness. 'Pretty company,' they would say, 'you
had got into.' With me! with me! Don't be alarmed, Mr. Vance not to be
thought of."

The young men were deeply affected.

"I can't accept that reason," said Lionel, tremulously, "though I must
not presume to derange your habits. But she may go with us, mayn't she?
We'll take care of her, and she is dressed so plainly and neatly, and
looks such a little lady" (turning to Vance).

"Yes, let her come with us," said the artist, benevolently; though he
by no means shared in Lionel's enthusiastic desire for her company. He
thought she would be greatly in their way.

"Heaven bless you both!" answered Waife; "and she wants a holiday; she
shall have it."

"I'd rather stay with you, Grandy: you'll be so lone."

"No, I wish to be out all to-morrow,-the investment! I shall not be
alone; making friends with our future companion, Sophy."

"And can do without me already? heigh-ho!"

VANCE.--"So that's settled; good-by to you."

CHAPTER XIII.

Inspiring effect of the Fine Arts: the vulgar are moved by their
exhibition into generous impulses and flights of fancy, checked by
the ungracious severities of their superiors, as exemplified in the
instance of Cobbler Merle and his servant of-all-work.

The next day, perhaps with the idea of removing all scruple from Sophy's
mind, Waife had already gone after his investment when the friends
arrived. Sophy at first was dull and dispirited, but by degrees she
brightened up; and when, the sitting over and the picture done (save
such final touches as Vance reserved for solitary study), she was
permitted to gaze at her own effigy, she burst into exclamations of
frank delight. "Am I like that! is it possible? Oh, how beautiful! Mr.
Merle, Mr. Merle, Mr. Merle!" and running out of the room before Vance
could stop her, she returned with the Cobbler, followed, too, by a thin
gaunt girl, whom he pompously called his housekeeper, but who in sober
truth was servant-of-all-work. Wife he had none: his horoscope, he said,
having Saturn in square to the Seventh House, forbade him to venture
upon matrimony. All gathered round the picture; all admired, and