and Julie beside him.

The start which passed through him betrayed itself. He could not yet see
Julie with composure. But when he had pressed her hand and inquired
after her health, he went back to his grievance, being indeed rejoiced
to have secured a pair of listeners.

"Really, the insolence of these fellows in the press! I shall let the
Academy know what I think of it. Not a rag of mine shall they ever see
here again. Ears and little fingers, indeed! Idiots and owls!"

Julie smiled. But it had to be explained to the Duchess that a wise man,
half Italian, half German, had lately arisen who proposed to judge the
authenticity of a picture by its ears, assisted by any peculiarities of
treatment in the little fingers.

"What nonsense!" said the Duchess, with a yawn. "If I were an artist, I
should always draw them different ways."

"Well, not exactly," said Lord Lackington, who, as an artist himself,
was unfortunately debarred from statements of this simplicity. "But the
_ludicrous_ way in which these fools overdo their little discoveries!"

And he walked on, fuming, till the open and unmeasured admiration of the
two ladies for his great Rembrandt, the gem of his collection, now
occupying the place of honor in the large room of the Academy, restored
him to himself.

"Ah, even the biggest ass among them holds his tongue about that!" he
said, exultantly. "But, hallo! What does that call itself?" He looked at
a picture in front of him, then at the catalogue, then at the Duchess.

"That picture is ours," said the Duchess. "Isn't it a dear? It's a
Leonardo da Vinci."

"Leonardo fiddlesticks!" cried Lord Lackington. "Leonardo, indeed! What
absurdity! Really, Duchess, you should tell Crowborough to be more
careful about his things. We mustn't give handles to these fellows."

"What do you mean?" said the Duchess, offended. "If it isn't a Leonardo,
pray what is it?"

"Why, a bad school copy, of course!" said Lord Lackington, hotly. "Look
at the eyes"--he took out a pencil and pointed--"look at the neck, look
at the fingers!"

The Duchess pouted.

"Oh!" she said. "Then there is something in fingers!"

Lord Lackington's face suddenly relaxed. He broke into a shout of
laughter, _bon enfant_ that he was; and the Duchess laughed, too; but
under cover of their merriment she, mindful of quite other things, drew
him a little farther away from Julie.

"I thought you had asked her to Nonpareil for Easter?" she said, in his