The colour came in the beautiful girl's cheek, but without remarking it the artist said:
"Was it not so?"
"Even so, I fear," murmured Leonora.
"You must let me have this drawing," said Lorenzo; "you can put no higher value on it than I will be right glad to pay. It will be to me a memorial of one of the happiest days of my life, and of her I love better than life."
"Nay, I would not part with it for any payment," said the other; "but, having done as you said just now--intruded on your privacy--I will pay for the intrusion by sketching for each of you, the portrait of the other, and that without price. But let us come into the saloon, and call for lights; it is getting somewhat dark. Will you, young gentleman, take my lute, while I put up the sketch and my pencils."
"Is this then a lute?" asked Lorenzo, taking the horse's head in ivory and silver. "Oh! I see; here is a finger-board, and the strings are fastened to the lower jaw. I never saw a lute like this."
"Probably not," the other answered; "it is my own design and workmanship."
"Then was it you whom we heard playing, just now?" asked Leonora. "The music was divine."
"It might be so," answered the artist gaily, "for Cupid was very near--though I knew not of the god's neighbourhood--and it is the nature of all godlike beings to cast their influence far around them, and raise common things toward divinity. He is a mighty deity that Cupid, and, when worshipped purely, has precious gifts for the sons of men. You two are very young," he continued, thoughtfully, "and doubtless noble."
"We are young," answered Lorenzo, "and noble as far as blood is concerned. Noble in a better sense I trust we are likewise. Here is one, at least, who is, and what may be wanting in myself my love for her shall give."