Let it be said, however, that his pride kept him from asking the assistance of any man, and if he rose, it was by his own unaided effort. It was this quality of independence that, as much as anything, had drawn to him the friendship of Enrico Ferrati. They had been at school together as boys, but for years their lives had laid apart. Ferrati, on taking his degree, had settled in Florence, where a flourishing practice rewarded his effort, and it was to Florence that Egidio also betook himself, his pride rebelling against life in Rome in the changed conditions of his fortunes. Ferrati at once seized the opportunity of renewing the old intimacy and his sympathy and respect were as balm to the wounds of Valentini. Ferrati, on his part, attributed to the severe disappointment undergone, the changes he could not fail to remark in his friend, though indeed in his company Valentini was at his best; the devoted friendship of Ferrati called out all that was best in his nature, and Enrico never saw the depths underlying the surface manner. It would, perhaps, be better to say that in the company of Ferrati, the underlying meannesses vanished; the affection Valentini had for him was the one pure, disinterested love of his selfish nature. Valentini heard with slight enthusiasm Ferrati's plan of a course of drawing lessons to two young Norwegian girls. "Carissimo," he said, "pot-hooks are not in my line." He was sitting with Ferrati, over a glass of wine at the end of their dinner in a modest _trattoria_. "I think you will teach them more than pot-hooks, Egidio; one of them, at least could be taught to see and appreciate, besides you must keep the pot boiling, you know." "It would be a loss of time. Why should I lose my time teaching girls what they should have learnt at school? Let them get a governess, or a guide-book!" "I had thought it would interest you." "Are they pretty, at least?" "One is pretty, the other is something more," said Ferrati, lighting with care a black Tuscan cigar. Valentini followed suit, and they puffed away in silence some moments. "One of them is more than pretty, you said?" "Yes, she suggests possibilities, she has an interesting face. But I was thinking of you, really, more than of the girls. It would do you the world of good, Egidio, it would take you out of yourself. You need humanising, disinfecting, if I may say so. How do you pass your time? You paint all day, you eat a bad dinner, and sometimes work all evening, or else you go to the Circolo degli Artisti and play billiards and smoke more '_Toscani_' than is good for you--and all the time you mope. Now these lessons will give you something else to think about, they will bring in some money which is a consideration, and moreover, I believe you will be doing a good action, for I think that one of these girls has had some trouble and needs distraction quite as much as you do."