y to it?"

Say to it! Good heavens! what could I say, what could I do, but flush up
all suddenly with pleasure, and stare at it without power at first to
utter a single word?

For it was like _her_--so like that it might have been her very
portrait. The features were cast in the same mould--the brow, perhaps,
was a little less lofty--the smile a little less cold; but the eyes,
the beautiful, lustrous, soul-lighted eyes were the same--the
very same!

If she were to wear an old-fashioned dress, and deck her fair neck and
arms with pearls, and put powder on her hair, and stand just so, with
her hand upon one of the old stone urns in the garden of that deserted
chateau, she would seem to be standing for the portrait.

Well might I feel, when I first saw her, that the beauty of her face was
not wholly unfamiliar to me! Well might I fancy I had seen her in some
dream of long ago!

So this was the secret of it--and this picture was mine. Mine to hang
before my desk when I was at work--mine to place at my bed's foot, where
I might see it on first waking--mine to worship and adore, to weave
fancies and build hopes upon, and "burn out the day in idle phantasies"
of passionate devotion!

"Well," said Mueller impatiently, "what do you think of it?"

I looked up, like one dreaming.

"Think of it!" I repeated.

"Yes--do you think it like?"

"So like that it might be her por ... I mean that it might be the
original."

"Oh, that's satisfactory. I was afraid you were disappointed."

"I was only silent from surprise and pleasure."

"Well, however faithful the copy maybe, you know, in these things one
always misses the tone of age."

"I would not have it look a day older!" I exclaimed, never lifting my
eyes from the canvas.

Mueller came and looked down at it over my shoulder.

"It is an interesting head," said he. "I have a great mind to introduce
it into my next year's competition picture."

I started as if he had struck me. The thought was sacrilege!

"For Heaven's sake do no such thing!" I ejaculated.

"Why not?" said he, opening his eyes in astonishment.

"I cannot tell you why--at least not yet; but to--to confer a very
particular obligation upon me, will you waive this point?" Mueller rubbed
his head all over with both hands, and sat down in the utmost
perplexity.

"Upon my soul and conscience," said he, "you are the most
incomprehensible fellow I ever knew in my life!"

"I am. I grant it. What then? L