Laurent had formed some very erroneous ideas concerning Italy, and expected to find spring in December as soon as he caught sight of the Mediterranean. He had to acknowledge his error, and to suffer from a very sharp attack of frosty weather on the trip from Marseille to Genoa. Genoa pleased him immensely, and as there were many pictures to see there, as it was the principal object of the journey so far as he was concerned, he readily agreed to stay there one or two months, and hired furnished apartments. After a week, Laurent had seen everything, and Thérèse was just beginning to settle down to painting; for it should be said here that she was obliged to work. In order to obtain a few thousand-franc notes, she had made an agreement with a dealer in pictures to bring him copies of several unpublished portraits, which he proposed to have engraved. It was not an unpleasant task; the dealer, being a man of taste, had specified a number of portraits by Van Dyck, one at Genoa, one at Florence, etc. The copying of that master required a special gift, by virtue of which Thérèse had developed her own talent and earned a livelihood before she undertook to paint portraits on her own account; but she must needs begin by obtaining permission from the owners of those masterpieces; and, although she exerted herself to the utmost, a whole week passed before she was able to begin to copy the portrait at Genoa. Laurent felt in nowise disposed to copy anything under heaven. His individuality was too pronounced and too fiery for that sort of work. He was benefited in other ways by the sight of great works. That was his right. And yet, many a great master, having so excellent an opportunity, would have been likely to take advantage of it. Laurent was not yet twenty-five years of age, and might still learn. That was Thérèse's opinion, who also saw an opportunity for him to increase his pecuniary resources. If he would have condescended to copy a Titian,--who was his favorite among the masters,--there was no doubt that the same dealer who had commissioned Thérèse would have bought it or found a purchaser for it. Laurent considered that an absurd idea. So long as he had money in his pocket, he could not conceive how one could descend from the lofty realms of art so far as to think of gain. He left Thérèse absorbed in contemplation of her model, joking her a little in anticipation on the Van Dyck she was going to paint, and trying to dishearten her with the terrible task she had the courage to undertake. Then he roamed about the city, sorely perplexed as to how he should employ the six weeks which Thérèse had asked for the completion of her work.