Already Pierre had anticipated something of this sort; the first sight of the easel having suggested it to him. His reply was therefore not wholly unconsidered. He said, that so far as she herself was concerned, the systematic practice of her art at present would certainly be a great advantage in supplying her with a very delightful occupation. But since she could hardly hope for any patronage from her mother's fashionable and wealthy associates; indeed, as such a thing must be very far from her own desires; and as it was only from the Apostles she could-for some time to come, at least-reasonably anticipate sitters; and as those Apostles were almost universally a very forlorn and penniless set-though in truth there were some wonderfully rich-looking heads among them-therefore, Lucy must not look for much immediate pecuniary emolument. Ere long she might indeed do something very handsome; but at the outset, it was well to be moderate in her expectations. This admonishment came, modifiedly, from that certain stoic, dogged mood of Pierre, born of his recent life, which taught him never to expect any good from any thing; but always to anticipate ill; however not in unreadiness to meet the contrary; and then, if good came, so much the better. He added that he would that very morning go among the rooms and corridors of the Apostles, familiarly announcing that his cousin, a lady-artist in crayons, occupied a room adjoining his, where she would be very happy to receive any sitters.
"And now, Lucy, what shall be the terms? That is a very important point, thou knowest."
"I suppose, Pierre, they must be very low," said Lucy, looking at him meditatively.
"Very low, Lucy; very low, indeed."
"Well, ten dollars, then."
'Ten Banks of England, Lucy!" exclaimed Pierre. "Why, Lucy, that were almost a quarter's income for some of the Apostles!"
"Four dollars, Pierre."
"I will tell thee now, Lucy-but first, how long does it take to complete one portrait?"
'Two sittings; and two mornings' work by myself, Pierre."
"And let me see; what are thy materials? They are not very costly, I believe. 'Tis not like cutting glass, — thy tools must not be pointed with diamonds, Lucy?"
"See, Pierre!" said Lucy, holding out her little palm, "see; this handful of charcoal, a bit of bread, a crayon or two, and a square of paper:-that is all."
"Well, then, thou shall charge one-seventy-five for a portrait."
"Only one-seventy-five, Pierre?"
"I am half afraid now we have set it far too high, Lucy. Thou must not be extravagant. Look: if thy terms were ten dollars, and thou didst crayon on trust; then thou wouldst have plenty of sitters, but small returns. But if thou puttest thy terms right-down, and also sayest thou must have thy cash right-down too-don't start so at that cash- then not so many sitters to be sure, but more returns. Thou under-standest."
"It shall be just as thou say'st, Pierre."
"Well, then, I will write a card for thee, stating thy terms; and put it up conspicuously in thy room, so that every Apostle may know what he has to expect."
'Thank thee, thank thee, cousin Pierre," said Lucy, rising. "I rejoice at thy pleasant and not entirely unhopeful view of my poor little plan. But I must be doing something; I must be earning money. See, I have eaten ever so much bread this morning, but have not earned one penny."
With a humorous sadness Pierre measured the large remainder of the one only piece she had touched, and then would have spoken banteringly to her; but she had slid away into her own room.
He was presently roused from the strange revery into which the conclusion of this scene had thrown him, by the touch of Isabel's hand upon his knee, and her large expressive glance upon his face. During all the foregoing colloquy, she had remained entirely silent; but an unoccupied observer would perhaps have noticed, that some new and very strong emotions were restrainedly stirring within her.
"Pierre!" she said, intently bending over toward him.
"Well, well, Isabel," stammeringly replied Pierre; while a mysterious color suffused itself over his whole face, neck, and brow; and involuntarily he started a little back from her self-proffering form.
Arrested by this movement Isabel eyed him fixedly; then slowly rose, and with immense mournful stateliness, drew herself up, and said: "If thy sister can ever come too nigh to thee, Pierre, tell thy sister so beforehand; for the September sun draws not up the valley-vapor more jealously from the disdainful earth, than my secret god shall draw me up from thee, if ever I can come too nigh to thee."
Thus speaking, one hand was on her bosom, as if resolutely feeling of something deadly there concealed; but, riveted by her general manner more than by her particular gesture, Pierre, at the instant, did not so particularly note the all-significant movement of the hand upon her bosom, though afterward he recalled it, and darkly and thoroughly comprehended its meaning.
"Too nigh to me, Isabel? Sun or dew, thou fertilizest me! Can sunbeams or drops of dew come too nigh the thing they warm and water? Then sit down by me, Isabel, and sit close; wind in within my ribs, — if so thou canst, — that my one frame may be the continent of two."
"Fine feathers make fine birds, so I have heard," said Isabel, most bitterly-"but do fine sayings always make fine deeds? Pierre, thou didst but just now draw away from me!"
"When we would most dearly embrace, we first throw back our arms, Isabel; I but drew away, to draw so much the closer to thee."
"Well; all words are arrant skirmishers; deeds are the army's self! be it as thou sayest. I yet trust to thee.-Pierre."
"My breath waits thine; what is it, Isabel?"
"I have been more blockish than a block; I am mad to think of it! More mad, that her great sweetness should first remind me of mine own stupidity. But she shall not get the start of me! Pierre, some way I must work for thee! See, I will sell this hair; have these teeth pulled out; but some way I will earn money for thee!"
Pierre now eyed her startledly. Touches of a determinate meaning shone in her; some hidden thing was deeply wounded in her. An affectionate soothing syllable was on his tongue; his arm was out; when shifting his expression, he whisperingly and alarmedly exclaimed-"Hark! she is coming.-Be still."
But rising boldly, Isabel threw open the connecting door, exclaiming half-hysterically-"Look, Lucy; here is the strangest husband; fearful of being caught speaking to his wife!"
With an artist's little box before her-whose rattling, perhaps, had startled Pierre-Lucy was sitting mid-way in her room, opposite the opened door; so that at that moment, both Pierre and Isabel were plainly visible to her. The singular tone of Isabel's voice instantly caused her to look up intently. At once, a sudden irradiation of some subtile intelligence-but whether welcome to her, or otherwise, could not be determined-shot over her whole aspect. She murmured some vague random reply; and then bent low over her box, saying she was very busy.
Isabel closed the door, and sat down again by Pierre. Her countenance wore a mixed and writhing, impatient look. She seemed as one in whom the most powerful emotion of life is caught in inextricable toils of circumstances, and while longing to disengage itself, still knows that all struggles will prove worse than vain; and so, for the moment, grows madly reckless and defiant of all obstacles. Pierre trembled as he gazed upon her. But soon the mood passed from her; her old, sweet mournfulness returned! again the clear unfathomableness was in her mystic eye.
"Pierre, ere now, — ere I ever knew thee-I have done mad things, which I have never been conscious of, but in the dim recalling. I hold such things no things of mine. What I now remember, as just now done, was one of them."
"Thou hast done nothing but shown thy strength, while I have shown my weakness, Isabel;-yes, to the whole world thou art my wife-to her, too, thou art my wife. Have I not told her so, myself? I was weaker than a kitten, Isabel; and thou, strong as those high things angelical, from which utmost beauty takes not strength."