On inquiring for Pierre Delebarre, he found that every one knew the young artist.
"Come," said one, "let me go with you to the exhibition, and show you his picture that has taken the prize.

It is a noble production.
All Florence is alive with its praise." The baron went to the exhibition.

The first picture that met his eyes on entering the door was a counterpart of the one he had received, but larger, and, in the admirable lights in which it was arranged, looked even more like life.
"Isn't it a grand production ?" said the baron's conductor.
"My sweet, sweet child!" murmured the old man, in a low thrilling voice.

Then turning, he said, abruptly-- "Show me where I can find this Pierre Delebarre." "With pleasure.

His house is near at hand," said his companion.
A few minutes walk brought them to the artist's dwelling.
"That is an humble roof," said the man, pointing to where Pierre lived, "but it contains a noble man." He turned away, and the baron entered alone.