"A thousand guineas!" ejeculated the student, in surprise; "do you say so?"
"Yes, I say it," answered the painter, with importance. "Look ye, Paul—observe this bridal party at the alter—see the blush on the bride's cheek, the joy in the bride-groom's eye—is it not natural? And look at the grouping! observe the warmth of the colouring, the breadth of effect, the depth of shade, the freedom of touch! Now, tell me candidly, as a brother, is it not a gem?"
"It is certainly beautiful," answered Paul.
"I tell you what," continued the artist—"though I say it who should not say it—I have seen worse things sold for a thousand guineas."
"You don't say so!" responded the astonished student, and he wished that he had been an artist instead of a scholar.
"I do," added Peter; "and now, Paul, what do you think I intend to do with the money which this will bring?"
"How should I know, brother?" returned the other.
"Why, then," said he, "I'm resolved to pay off the mortgage on our father's property, that the old man may spend the remainder of his days in comfort."
Paul wept, and taking his brother's hand, said, "And if you do, the property shall be yours, Peter."
"Never, brother!" replied the other—"rather than rob you of your birth-right I would cut my hand off."