I gave him a quick look; as our eyes met, I read in his the dangerous and intoxicating knowledge, that he who for seven years had been my master, now voluntarily abdicated that throne of authority where two so seldom sit in peace, and was calling me to something more than equality. My heart beat, my face flushed; I looked at him proudly. "And so," I said, a little agitatedly, "I am really to be your friend. How good!--how kind! But I am not to obey you now?" I asked, breaking off. "Don't name the word," he replied, impatiently. "How odd!" I observed, both startled and amused. "How odd that I, who used to feel so much afraid of you, when you used to chide, punish, turn out of the room--" "I fear," interrupted Cornelius, looking uneasy, "I was rather rude then." "You were not always civil. You once called me a little monkey. Another time--" "Pray don't!" he hastily observed, looking annoyed and disconcerted. "Tell me rather what I am to give you. Are there not shops at Ryde?" "As if I should fancy anything out of a shop." "And what is there that does not come out of a shop?" "What a question for an artist!" "Have I anything you would really fancy?" eagerly inquired Cornelius. "Would you give me your picture, if I were to ask you for it?" "Would you ask me for it?" "No, for I want you to sell it." "And will you not always want me to sell my pictures?" "And is there nothing you will not sell?" I alluded to his Italian drawings, from which Cornelius had often declared nothing should induce him to part. He understood me, for he smiled; but eluded the subject by asking if we should not go in. I assented. We entered the house, and spent, as usual, a quiet evening. When I woke the next morning, the first object that met my eyes was the portfolio of Italian drawings, lying on the table by me. Never had I been so quick in dressing as I was then. I hastened downstairs to the parlour. Cornelius sat reading the newspaper by the table. I went up to him, and standing behind him, gently took it from his hand. "Why so?" he said, demurring. "Oh! you know. But I cannot thank you. All I can say is. I shall never forget that what you would not have given for money, when you wanted money, you gave to me for pure love and friendship. I shall never forget, Cornelius, when you are a rich man and a great man, that when you were but a poor, obscure artist, you gave me all a poor, obscure artist has to give." He did not reply. I stood behind him, with my two hands leaning on the back of his chair. He took them, and gently clasped them around his neck. I stooped, and touching with my lips his bold and handsome brow, I could not help saying: "Oh, my friend! shall I ever have another friend like you?" "Indeed, I hope not," he replied, laughing: and in the glass opposite us, I saw Kate smiling, as she stood looking on in the half gloom of the open door.