Amid the rich light and deep shade they beheld their phantom selves , but , though the likeness promised to be perfect , they were not quite satisfied with the expression : it seemed more vague than in most of the painter 's works . He , however , was satisfied with the prospect of success , and , being much interested in the lovers , employed his leisure moments , unknown to them , in making a crayon sketch of their two figures . During their sittings he engaged them in conversation and kindled up their faces with characteristic traits , which , though continually varying , it was his purpose to combine and fix . At length he announced that at their next visit both the portraits would be ready for delivery . `` If my pencil will but be true to my conception in the few last touches which I meditate , '' observed he , `` these two pictures will be my very best performances . Seldom indeed has an artist such subjects . '' While speaking he still bent his penetrative eye upon them , nor withdrew it till they had reached the bottom of the stairs . Nothing in the whole circle of human vanities takes stronger hold of the imagination than this affair of having a portrait painted . Yet why should it be so ? The looking-glass , the polished globes of the andirons , the mirror-like water , and all other reflecting surfaces , continually present us with portraits -- or , rather , ghosts -- of ourselves which we glance at and straightway forget them . But we forget them only because they vanish . It is the idea of duration -- of earthly immortality -- that gives such a mysterious interest to our own portraits . Walter and Elinor were not insensible to this feeling , and hastened to the painter 's room punctually at the appointed hour to meet those pictured shapes which were to be their representatives with posterity . The sunshine flashed after them into the apartment , but left it somewhat gloomy as they closed the door . Their eyes were immediately attracted to their portraits , which rested against the farthest wall of the room . At the first glance through the dim light and the distance , seeing themselves in precisely their natural attitudes and with all the air that they recognized so well , they uttered a simultaneous exclamation of delight . `` There we stand , '' cried Walter , enthusiastically , `` fixed in sunshine for ever . No dark passions can gather on our faces . '' `` No , '' said Elinor , more calmly ; `` no dreary change can sadden us . '' This was said while they were approaching and had yet gained only an imperfect view of the pictures .
The painter , XXXXX saluting them , busied himself at a table in completing a crayon sketch , leaving his visitors to form their own judgment as to his perfected labors .
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