oked their
cheap cigars; and sometimes the divine Julia would make one of the
party too, with her mother and uncle and Captain Reece; and the good
painter fellows would envy from afar their beloved but too fortunate
comrade; and the hussars and Uhlans, von this and von that, would
find seats and tables as near the princely company as possible.

And every time a general officer entered the garden, up stood every
officer of inferior rank till the great man had comfortably seated
himself somewhere in the azure sunshine of Julia's forget-me-not
warm glance.

And before the summer had fulfilled itself, and the roses at
Geissler's were overblown, it became evident to Lady Caroline, if to
none other, that Julia had eyes for no one else in the world but
Barty Josselin. I had it from Lady Caroline herself.

But Barty Josselin had eyes only (such eyes as they were) for his
work at Herr Duffenthaler's, and lived laborious days, except on
Thursday and Sunday afternoons, and shunned delights, except to dine
at the Runsberg Speiserei with his two fellow-pupils, and Henley and
Armstrong and Bancroft and du Maurier and others, all painters,
mostly British and Yankee; and an uncommonly lively and agreeable
repast that was! And afterwards, long walks by moon or star light,
or music at each other's rooms, and that engrossing technical shop
talk that never palls on those who talk it. No Guardsman's talk of
turf or sport or the ballet had ever been so good as this, in
Barty's estimation; no agreeable society gossip at Mr. Beresford
Duff's Riffrath tea-parties!

[Illustration: "'YOU DON'T MEAN TO SAY YOU'RE GOING TO PAINT FOR
HIRE!'"]

Once in every fortnight or so Barty would report himself to Dr.
Hasenclever, and spend the day in Riffrath and lunch with the good old
Beresford Duff, who was very fond of him, and who lamented over his loss
of caste in devoting himself professionally to art.

"God bless me--my dear Barty, you don't mean to say you're going to
paint for _hire_!"

"Indeed I am, if any one will hire me. How else am I to live?"

"Well, _you_ know best, my dear boy; but I should have thought the
Rohans might have got you something better than _that_. It's true,
Buckner does it, and Swinton, and Francis Grant! But _still_, you
know ... there _are_ other ways of getting on for a fellow like you.
Look at Prince Gelbioso, who ran away with the Duchess of Flitwick!
He didn't sing a bit better than you do, and as for looks, y