the acquaintance of another very large family of gypsies, who
sang at a rival _cafe_, and who had also treated me very kindly. I was
at once conducted to a house, which we entered in a rather gypsy way, not
in front, but through a court, a back door, and up a staircase, very much
in the style of certain dwellings in the Potteries in London. But,
having entered, I was led through one or two neat rooms, where I saw
lying sound asleep on beds, but dressed, one or two very dark Romanys,
whose faces I remembered. Then we passed into a sitting-room, which was
very well furnished. I observed hanging up over the chimney-piece a good
collection of photographs, nearly all of gypsies, and indicating that
close resemblance to Hindoos which comes out so strongly in such
pictures, being, in fact, more apparent in the pictures than in the
faces; just as the photographs of the old Ulfilas manuscript revealed
alterations not visible in the original. In the centre of the group was
a cabinet-size portrait of Sarsha, and by it another of an Englishman of
_very_ high rank. I thought this odd, but asked no questions.

My hosts were very kind, offering me promptly a rich kind of Russian
cake, begging to know what else I would like to eat or drink, and
apparently deeply concerned that I could really partake of nothing, as I
had just come from luncheon. They were all light-hearted and gay, so
that the music began at once, as wild and as bewitching as ever. And
here I observed, even more than before, how thoroughly sincere these
gypsies were in their art, and to what a degree they enjoyed and were
excited by their own singing. Here in their own home, warbling like
birds and frolicking like children, their performance was even more
delightful than it had been in the concert-room. There was evidently a
great source of excitement in the fact that I must enjoy it far more than
an ordinary stranger, because I understood Romany, and sympathized with
gypsy ways, and regarded them not as the _Gaji_ or Gentiles do, but as
brothers and sisters. I confess that I was indeed moved by the simple
kindness with which I was treated, and I knew that, with the wonderfully
keen perception of character in which gypsies excel, they perfectly
understood my liking for them. It is this ready intuition of feelings
which, when it is raised from an instinct to an art by practice, enables
shrewd old women to tell fortunes with so much skill.

I was here introduc