"Well, Florinda."
"Why dost thou wear such a threadbare coat, Carlton? You know I care not for such things, but I would have thee appear among thy fellow-artists as well clad as the best of them."
"You know, Florinda," said Carlton, blushing in spite of himself, "I told you of my misfortune in losing my friend and patron."
"True, but what has that to do with thy coat, Carlton?" asked the lady, who, never having known the want of money, could not realize the effect of such a condition. And then, too, she did not exactly understand the dependency of Carlton upon his patron.
"O, nothing particular, dearest; but one must dress according to his means, you know."
Florinda mused for a moment, and at length appeared to understand the meaning of his words, when taking a rich purse of gold from her girdle, she endeavored to give it to him in such a manner as to spare his feelings, but her utterance failed her, and she burst into tears! Carlton could not accept it. He would rather have starved first; his proud spirit could not brook the deed.
"No, Florinda," ho said, "I cannot accept the purse, or any assistance from thee, noble lady. But if you will bear with my humble attire for a while, I hope to be able to dress in a style to suit thy taste, and which will render me worthy, at least in point of personal appearance, to walk by thy side."
"Do you forgive me, Carlton, for this? It was but the impulse of the moment. I did not mean to insult thee."
"Insult me!"
"Alas! I was but rude."