poff's acquaintance. It was quite enough to read about
him in the magazines and admire his exploits from a distance.

"Dismal?" Karen had repeated, with a touch of severity. "Who would not
be after such a life? Yes, he is a sad man, and the thought of Russia
never leaves him. But he is full of gaiety, too. He spent some months
with us two years ago at the Italian lakes and I grew so fond of him. We
had great jokes together, he and I. And he sometimes writes to me now,
such teasing, funny letters. The last was from San Francisco. He is
giving lectures out there, raising money; for he never ceases the
struggle. He calls me Liebchen. He is very fond of me."

"What do you call him?" Gregory inquired.

"Just Strepoff; everybody calls him that. Dear Belot, too," Karen
pursued. "He could not fail to interest you. Perhaps you have already
met him. He has been in London."

"Belot? Does he write poetry?"

"Poetry? No. Belot is a painter; a great painter. Surely you have heard
of Belot?"

"Well, I'm afraid that if I have I've forgotten. You see, as you say, I
live so out of the world of art."

"Did you not see his portrait of Susanne Mauret--the great French
actress? It has been exhibited through all the world."

"Of course I have. Belot of course. The impressionist painter. It looked
to me, I confess, awfully queer; but I could see that it was very
clever."

"Impressionist? No; Belot would not rank himself among the
impressionists. And he would not like to hear his work called clever; I
warn you of that. He has a horror of cleverness. It was not a clever
picture, but sober, strange, beautiful. Well, I know Belot and his wife
quite intimately. They are great friends of the Lippheims, too, and call
themselves the Franco-Prussian alliance. Madame Belot is a dear little
woman. You must have often seen his pictures of her and the children. He
has numbers of children and adores them. _La petite_ Margot is my
special pet and she always sends me a little present on my birthday.
Madame Belot was once his model," Karen added, "and is quite _du
peuple_, and I believe that some of his friends were sorry that he
married her; but she makes him very happy. That beautiful nude in the
Luxembourg by Chantefoy is of her--long before she married, of course.
She does not sit for the _ensemble_ now, and indeed I fear it has lost
all its beauty, for she is very fat. It would be nice to go to Paris on
our wedding-tour and see the Belots," sai