Damask was another beauty whom we appreciated, perhaps all the more because we knew she was dying of consumption.

* * * * *

In Paris I was probably absorbed in some work I had in hand and must have neglected du Maurier, for he writes urging me to answer by return of post and give an account of myself.  He had been visited, he says, by an alarming nightmare, which he forthwith sketches for my benefit.  Carry, the Circe, had captured the lion.  The noble beast—­that was me—­had succumbed to the wiles of the enchantress, and submitted tamely to being combed and brushed and to having his claws clipped by her hand.  Like birds of a feather, so do lions of a name, flock together.  And so another noble beast—­that was he—­is seen approaching, presumably to claim his share of the combing and clipping and of whatever other favours may be forthcoming.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

Another time when, I suppose, I was again letting him wait for an answer, he writes from Duesseldorf:  “DEAR BOBTAIL,—­Est-ce que tu te donnes le genre de m’oublier par hazard?  I have been expecting a letter from you every day, running thus:  ’DEAR RAG,—­Come to Paris immediately, to illustrate thirty-six periodical papers which I have got for you.  In haste, Bobtail.’  My old pal, Tom Armstrong, is here, working hard; eyes the same as ever.  Write soon and tell all about that portrait.  Duesseldorf rencontre was jolly.”  The letter is headed by a drawing representing me soaring heavenwards, whilst he, chained to the spot, is philosophically consulting the cards on his prospects of release.

[Illustration] Then comes a postscript:  “Going in for this sort of thing.”

[Illustration]

“Will you come old fellow and be

[Illustration]

I suppose I answered saying that I only put off writing till I had mustered the full complement of periodicals.  If I was in a prophetic mood I may have added that it was all right, and that very shortly thirty-six editors would be clamouring for his work, and perhaps thirty-six States hallooing for him to come over immediately.  Hoping to be punch’d at an early date, I probably remained his, &c., &c.

The early date came, for, before his final return to England, we met once more in Antwerp and Malines.  And that takes me back to Carry.  She was changed to her advantage, so, at least, the world of Malines thought.  We were not quite so sure that the change would prove altogether to her advantage.  She had been quite pretty enough before, and we thought she could well have done without developing further physical attractions.  She had always known how to use her eyes, not unfrequently shedding their beneficent light on two persons at the same time, and we considered that that number should not be exceeded.  But now their activity seemed daily increasing, and it was not without concern that we noticed in her a certain restlessness and a growing tendency to discuss with the serpent questions relating to the acquisition of prohibited apples.  After a while, and perhaps in consequence of the good advice we gave her, she sobered down and surprised us by her docility; but at best her moods were uncertain and she puzzled us much.