His profession was nominally that of architecture and landscape gardening; but, in point of fact, consisted in telling certain rich, blase, stupid, fashionable people how they could quickest get rid of their money.  He ruled despotically in the Follingsbee halls:  he bought and rejected pictures and jewelry, ordered and sent off furniture, with the air of an absolute master; amusing himself meanwhile with running a French romance with the handsome mistress of the establishment.  As a consequence, he had not only opportunities for much quiet feathering of his own nest, but the eclat of always having the use of the Follingsbees’ carriages, horses, and opera-boxes, and being the acknowledged and supreme head of fashionable dictation.  Ladies sometimes pull caps for such charming individuals, as we have seen in the case of Mrs. Follingsbee and Lillie.

For it is not to be supposed that Mrs. Follingsbee, though she had assumed the gushing style with her young friend, wanted spirit or perception on her part.  Her darling Lillie had left a nettle in her bosom which rankled there.

“The vanity of these thin, light, watery blondes!” she said to herself, as she looked into her own great dark eyes in the mirror,—­“thinking Charlie Ferrola cares for her!  I know just what he thinks of her, thank heaven!  Poor thing!  Don’t you think Mrs. John Seymour has gone off astonishingly since her marriage?” she said to Therese.

“Mon Dieu, madame, q’oui,” said the obedient tire-woman, scraping the very back of her throat in her zeal.  “Madame Seymour has the real American maigreur.  These thin women, madame, they have no substance; there is noting to them.  For young girl, they are charming; but, as woman, they are just noting at all.  Now, you will see, madame, what I tell you.  In a year or two, people shall ask, ‘Was she ever handsome?’ But you, madame, you come to your prime like great rose!  Oh, dere is no comparison of you to Mrs. John Seymour!”

And Therese found her words highly acceptable, after the manner of all her tribe, who prophesy smooth things unto their mistresses.

It may be imagined that the entertaining of Dick Follingsbee was no small strain on the conjugal endurance of our faithful John; but he was on duty, and endured without flinching that gentleman’s free and easy jokes and patronizing civilities.

“I do wish, darling, you’d teach that creature not to call you ‘Lillie’ in that abominably free manner,” he said to his wife, the first day, after dinner.

“Mercy on us, John! what can I do?  All the world knows that Dick Follingsbee’s an oddity; and everybody agrees to take what he says for what it’s worth.  If I should go to putting on any airs, he’d behave ten times worse than he does:  the only way is, to pass it over quietly, and not to seem to notice any thing he says or does.  My way is, to smile, and look gracious, and act as if I hadn’t heard any thing but what is perfectly proper.”