Spero bit his lip.
"Am I ever going to hear what service I can do for you?" he asked with a calmness which reflected honor on his powers of self-control.
"Bravo, you have already learned something. First fill your wine-glass, otherwise I shall drink all your fine sherry alone."
The habit of drinking moderately Spero had also learned from his father.
Upon the remark of the painter, he filled his glass and impatiently said:
"Well?"
"I would like to make a loan. Don't laugh, but hear what I have to say. I intend to give a little party in my studio—"
"In your studio?" said Spero in surprise.
"Yes, it is certainly not as large as the Place Vendome, but that doesn't matter. Diogenes lived in a hogshead, and a dozen good friends will find plenty of room in my house. Let me tell you what gave me the idea. While I was studying in Rome, an aristocratic Italian, Count Vellini, took an interest in me. He was my friend, my Macænas, and I owe a great deal to him. The day before yesterday he arrived in Paris, and I should like to revenge myself for his kindness. As he is a millionnaire—not a millionnaire like you, for he has, at the utmost, five or six millions—I must offer him certain pleasures which cannot be obtained with money. I am going to turn my studio into a picture gallery and exhibit the best works of my numerous friends and my own. He shall see that I have become something in the meantime, and from what I know of him he will be delighted with my idea. I want to furnish my house properly, and for this I need some costly tapestries. You have real treasures of this description. Would you loan me a few pieces?"
"Is that all?" said Spero, cordially. "You give me joy, and I hope you will allow me to attend to it."