The account Hippolyte gives his brother Auguste of the whole affair is most touching.[90] "_Mon bon ami, mon cher_ Auguste, I have experienced the last trial in competing for the _Grand Prix_, but it has been dreadful! The subject was a figure in painting, three feet high. I executed it, and yesterday was the day of the decision. I was satisfied with myself, and was hopeful, _mais tu verras_. M. Ingres, M. Guérin, M. Granet, and three other members of the Institute, on entering the exhibition hall, wished to place me first. _Mais non_: M. Gros and his party carried it otherwise; and instead of _first_, I have been voted _last_. M. Ingres, in despair, at length left the room, protesting with all his might against the proceedings of the meeting; and I have not been received. You may imagine what I felt when I heard I was excluded.... I dared not call upon M. Ingres; still I could not reproach myself; my figure was far the best; I can say so without pride. At last, in the evening, I determined to go. I found him at dinner, but he ate nothing. Several members of the Institute had come to comfort him, but he would not be consoled. He received me with, "Behold the lamb they have slaughtered!" ... And all this with the accent of a heart so deeply moved that tears filled his eyes. He made me sit at his table, dine with him, and at last embraced me as a father would his son. I went away and was comforted. Oh! what do not I owe to this man who has already done so much for us, and who, on this occasion, has perhaps done more.... But sometimes regret seizes me, for this would have been the means of taking a great step.... And then it was the only way to show my gratitude to M. Ingres; for to you, my brother, I can say that my good master had founded great hopes on my picture." The next year the same difficulties (want of money to pay for models, &c.) made him almost give up the idea of competing; but getting some portraits to do, and knowing that his master was keen upon the matter, he sent in his name. One of his sitters happened to be a _gen-d'arme_, whom he had promised to paint for 30 fs. When the portrait was finished, the man was so pleased that he said to the painter, "_I promised you 30 fs., but here are 35 fs.!_" Flandrin often said that he never was so pleased as when he received those additional 5 fs.