a full-length portrait. He looked at her carefully
and said, slowly:

"I would suggest a gown of soft white over a white satin slip. It should
be cut low in the corsage, and have no sleeves. A touch of colour in the
shape of loops of small pink roses at the foot, heading a triple flounce
of white, and on the shoulders and around the top of the bodice. You
know for a portrait, madame, you want no epoch-making effect. It should
be quite simple, so that in the years to come it may still please the
eye as a work of art and not a creation of the dressmaker's skill."

Bee and I nearly had to be removed in an ambulance, and even Mrs.
Jimmie looked startled.

"Order it," I whispered. "Plainly, Providence has a hand in this design.
It might be dangerous to flout such a sign from heaven."

All of which goes to prove that the eye of the artist is true the world
over. Or, at least, that is the deduction I drew. Bee is more skeptical.

The Countess von Schimpfurmann lived in a marvellous old house, to which
we were invited again and again, her dear old politeness causing her to
give three handsome entertainments for us, so that each could be a guest
of honour at least once, and be distinguished by a seat on the sofa. The
Emperor being at Ischl, we were permitted all sorts of intimate
privileges with the Imperial Residenz, the court stables and private
views not ordinarily shown to travellers, which were more interesting
from being personally conducted than by the marvels we saw, for several
years of continuous travel rather blunt one's ecstasy and effectively
wear out one's adjectives.

Again, as in Munich, we were never tired of the picture-galleries, the
whole school of German and Austrian art being quite to our taste, while
if there exists anywhere else a more wonderful collection of original
drawings of such masters as Raphael, Durer, Rubens, and Rembrandt which
comprise the Albertina in the palace of the Archduke Albert, I do not
know of it.

The old countess had numerous anecdotes to tell of the beautiful
Empress, all of which confirmed and strengthened my belief that she was
most of all a glorious woman gloriously misunderstood by her nearest and
dearest. What other prince or princess of Europe in all history turned
to so noble a pursuit as culture, learning, and travel to cure a broken
heart and a wrecked existence in the majestic manner of this silent,
haughty, noble soul? The excesses, dissipation, and intrigue whi