red well,
and also such of her kin as was still alive in 1870, and felt it was
good to come of such a race, humble as they were. They were
physically splendid people, almost as splendid as Barty himself;
and, as I was told by many who knew them well, as good to know and
live with as they were good to look at--all that was easy to
see--and their manners were delightful.

When Antoinette was twelve, she went to stay in Paris with her uncle
and aunt, who were concierges to Prince Scorchakoff in the Rue du
Faubourg St.-Honore; next door, or next door but one, to the Elysee
Bourbon, as it was called then. And there the Princess took a fancy
to her, and had her carefully educated, especially in music; for the
child had a charming voice and a great musical talent, besides being
beautiful to the eye--gifts which her son inherited.

Then she became for three or four years a pupil at the
Conservatoire, and finally went on the stage, and was soon one of
the most brilliant stars of the Parisian theatre at its most
brilliant period.

Then she met the handsome English lord, who was forty, and they fell
in love with each other, and all happened as I have told.

[Illustration: LORD RUNSWICK AND ANTOINETTE JOSSELIN]

In the spring of 1837 Lord Runswick was killed in a duel by
Lieutenant Rondelis, of the deuxieme Spahis. Antoinette's dog had
jumped up to play with the lieutenant, who struck it with his cane
(for he was "_en pekin_," it appears--in mufti); and Lord Runswick
laid his own cane across the Frenchman's back; and next morning they
fought with swords, by the Mare aux Biches, in the Bois de
Boulogne--a little secluded, sedgy pool, hardly more than six inches
deep and six yards across. Barty and I have often skated there as
boys.

The Englishman was run through at the first lunge, and fell dead on
the spot.

A few years ago Barty met the son of the man who killed Lord
Runswick--it was at the French Embassy in Albert Gate. They were
introduced to each other, and M. Rondelis told Barty how his own
father's life had been poisoned by sorrow and remorse at having had
"la main si malheureuse" on that fatal morning by the Mare aux
Biches.

Poor Antoinette, mad with grief, left the stage, and went with her
little boy to live in the Pollet, near her parents. Three years
later she died there, of typhus, and Barty was left an orphan and
penniless; for Lord Runswick had been poor, and lived beyond his
means, and died in debt.