That very evening Edmund had his painting gear taken to Bosswinkel's house, and the next morning he made his appearance there for the first sitting. He begged the Commissionsrath to think of the very happiest moment of his life. For instance, when his dead wife first said she loved him, or when Albertine was born, or when he unexpectedly saw some dear friend whom he had thought to be lost to him; and to try and look as he had done _then_. "Wait a moment, Mr. Lehsen," said Bosswinkel; "I know what to do. One day, about three months ago, I got a letter from Hamburg telling me I had drawn a big prize in the lottery. I ran to my daughter with the letter open in my hand. That was the happiest moment I ever had in all my life. Let's choose _that_ one; and, just to place the whole thing more vividly before your eyes--and mine--I'll go and get the letter, and be taken with it in my hand--just as I was when it came." So Edmund had no help but to paint Bosswinkel accordingly; and he wouldn't be content, either, unless the writing on the letter was rendered legibly and distinctly, word for word, as follows:-- "Honoured Sir, "I have the honour to inform you----" and so forth; moreover, the envelope had to be portrayed lying on a little table, so that the address on it, displaying all the Commissionsrath's official titles written out at full length, could be clearly read. The very postmark Edmund had to copy with the utmost minuteness. For the rest, he made a portrait of a well-looking, good-tempered, handsomely-dressed man, who _did_ display, in some of the features of his face, a more or less distant resemblance to the Commissionsrath; so that nobody who read what was on the envelope could make any mistake as to whom the portrait was intended for. The Commissionsrath was delighted with it. "There," he said; "there you see what a painter who knows his business can make of a more or less well-looking fellow, though he _may_ be getting a little on in years! I begin to understand now (I didn't before), a thing that the Professor in the Humanity Class used to say, that a proper portrait ought to be a regular historical picture. Whenever I look at that one, I remember that delicious and happy moment when the news came of my prize in the lottery, and I understand the meaning of that smile on my face--that reflection of the happiness I felt within me then."