mood
as a seeker after life and new experiences. Being a baron was merely a
new experience, or promised to be. He had the liveliest sympathies for
republican theories and institutions--only he considered his life a
thing apart. He had a fine mind, philosophically and logically poised.
He could reason upon all things, from the latest mathematical theorem to
Christian Science. Naturally, being so much of an individualist, he was
not drifting toward any belief in the latter, but was never weary of
discussing the power of mind--a universal mind even--its wondrous
ramifications and influences. Also he was a student of the English
school of philosophy, and loved to get up mathematical and mechanical
demonstrations of certain philosophic truths. Thus he worked out by
means of a polygon, whose sides were of unequal lengths, a theory of
friendship which is too intricate to explain here.

From now on I watched his career with the liveliest interest. He was a
charming and a warm friend, and never neglected for a moment the
obligations which such a relationship demands.

I heard from him frequently in many and various ways, dined with him
regularly every second or third week, and rejoiced with him in his
triumphs, now more and more frequent. One spring he went to Europe and
spent the summer in tracing down his baronial claims, looking up various
artists and scientists and attending several scientific meetings here
and there at the same time. He did the illustrations for one of
Kipling's fast express stories which one of the magazines published, and
came back flushed and ready to try hard for a membership in the American
Water-Color Society.

I shall never forget his anxiety to get into that mildly interesting
body. He worked hard and long on several pictures which should not only
be hung on the line but enlist sufficient interest among the artists to
gain him a vote of admission. He mentioned it frequently and fixed me
with his eyes to see what I thought of him.

"Go ahead," I said; "you have more right to membership perhaps than many
another I know. Try hard."

He painted not one, but four, pictures, and sent them all. They were
very interesting after their kind. Two were scenes from the great
railroad terminal yards; the others, landscapes in mist or rain. Three
of these pictures were passed and two of them hung on the line. The
third was _skyed_, but he was admitted to membership.

I was delighted for his sake, for I coul