'I am paid three
thousand francs for every portrait I paint, and I have five or six at
present to finish.'
'But, my dear,' interposed his wife, 'it seems to me that this
portrait would take you but little time: think of the poor mother,
whose husband will so soon be lost to her for ever.'
'It grieves me to refuse you, my dear; but you know that my
battle-piece, which is destined for Versailles, must be sent to the
Louvre in a fortnight, for I cannot miss the Exposition this year. But
stay, my little friend, I will give you the address of several of my
pupils: tell them I sent you, and you will certainly find some one of
them who will do what you wish. Good-morning, Henry!'
'Good-by, my little friend,' added the lady. 'I hope you may be
successful.' The boy took his leave with a bursting heart.
Henry wandered through the gardens of the Luxembourg, debating with
himself if he should apply to the young artists whose addresses he
held in his hand. Fearing that his new efforts might be equally
unsuccessful, he was trying to nerve himself to encounter fresh
refusals, when he was accosted by a boy of his own age, his
fellow-student at the drawing-school.
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