'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 shalt 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 understandest.'
'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 un-