* * *

The reader will please to advance five years. Before proceeding thence
with our story, however, let us take a Parthian glance at the
overstepped interval. Philip Ballister had left New York with the
triple vow that he would enslave every faculty of his mind and body to
business, that he would not return till he had made a fortune, and that
such interstices as might occur in the building up of this chateau for
felicity should be filled with sweet reveries about Fanny Bellairs. The
forsworn painter had genius, as we have before hinted, and genius is
(as much as it is any one thing) the power of concentration. He entered
upon his duties, accordingly with a force and patience of application
which soon made him master of what are called business habits, and,
once in possession of the details, his natural cleverness gave him a
speedy insight to all the scope and tactics of his particular field of
trade. Under his guidance, the affairs of the house were soon in a much
more prosperous train, and, after a year's residence at Lyons, Philip
saw his way very clear to manage them with a long arm and take up his
quarters in Paris. "_Les fats sont les seuls hommes qui aient soin
d'eux memes_," says a French novelist, but there is a period, early or
late, in the lives of the cleverest men, when they become suddenly
curious as to their capacity for the graces. Paris, to a stranger who
does not visit in the Faubourg St. Germain, is a republic of personal
exterior, where the degree of privilege depends, with Utopian
impartiality, on the style of the outer man; and Paris, therefore, if
he is not already a Bachelor of Arts (qu?--_beau's Arts_), usually
serves the traveller as an Alma Mater of the pomps and vanities.

Phil. Ballister, up to the time of his matriculation in _Chaussee
d'Antin_, was a romantic-looking sloven. From this to a very dashing
coxcomb is but half a step, and, to be rid of the coxcombry and retain
a look of fashion, is still within the easy limits of imitation.
But--to obtain superiority of presence, with no apparent aid from dress
and no describable manner, and to display, at the same time, every
natural advantage in effective relief, and, withal, to adapt this
subtle philtre, not only to the approbation of the critical and
censorious, but to the taste of fair women gifted with judgment as God
pleases--this is a finish not born with any man (though unsuccessful if
it do not seem to be), and never reach