ent.

"I am obliged to you," said he, "and I trust that you will not be
disappointed in taking the Prince's opinion of my talent."

"Why should I be so?"

"Because, for the last four months I have been so busy that I have
really nothing to show you."

"That is of no importance. I have every confidence in you."

"Then," returned Andre, "all that we have to do is to choose a subject."

Andre's manner had by this time so captivated De Breulh that he muttered
to himself, "I really ought to hate this fellow, but on my word I like
him better than any one I have met for a long time."

Andre had by this time placed a large portfolio on the table. "Here,"
said he, "are some twenty or thirty sketches; if any of them took your
fancy, you could make your choice."

"Let me see them," returned De Breulh politely, for having made an
estimate of the young man's character, he now wished to see what his
artistic talents were like. With this object in view he examined all
the sketches in the portfolio minutely, and then turned to those on the
walls. Andre said nothing, but he somehow felt that this visit would
prove the turning-point of his misfortunes. But for all that the young
man's heart was very sad, for it was two days since Sabine had left
him, promising to write to him the next morning regarding M. de
Breulh-Faverlay, but as yet he had received no communication, and he
was on the tenterhooks of expectation, not because he had any doubt
of Sabine, but for the reason that he had no means of obtaining any
information of what went on in the interior of the Hotel de Mussidan.
M. de Breulh had now finished his survey, and had come to the conclusion
that though many of Andre's productions were crude and lacking in
finish, yet that he had the true artistic metal in him. He extended his
hand to the young man and said forcibly, "I am no longer influenced by
the opinion of a friend. I have seen and judged for myself, and am more
desirous than ever of possessing one of your pictures. I have made my
choice of a subject, and now let us discuss the details."

As he spoke he handed a little sketch to Andre. It was a view of
everyday life, which the painter had entitled, "Outside the Barrier."
Two men with torn garments and wine-flushed faces were struggling in
tipsy combat, while on the right hand side of the picture lay a woman,
bleeding profusely from a cut on the forehead, and two of her terrified
companions were bending over her, en