If I happen to mention this, it is not with a view of tempting her into any correspondence about this little episode of bygone years, should this ever meet her eye. The Sunday morning that followed Barty's début at Brossard's the boys went to church in the Rue de l'Église, Passy--and he with them, for he had been brought up a Roman Catholic. And I went round to Mlle. Jalabert's to see my mother and sister. I told them all about the new boy, and they were much interested. Suddenly my mother exclaimed: "Bartholomew Josselin? why, dear me! that must be Lord Runswick's son--Lord Runswick, who was the eldest son of the present Marquis of Whitby. He was in the 17th lancers with your uncle Charles, who was very fond of him. He left the army twenty years ago, and married Lady Selina Jobhouse--and his wife went mad. Then he fell in love with the famous Antoinette Josselin at the 'Bouffes,' and wanted so much to marry her that he tried to get a divorce; it was tried in the House of Lords, I believe; but he didn't succeed--so they--a--well--they contracted a--a _morganatic_ marriage, you know; and your friend was born. And poor Lord Runswick was killed in a duel about a dog, when his son was two years old; and his mother left the stage, and--" Just here the beautiful Miss ---- came in with her sister, and there was no more of Josselin's family history; and I forgot all about it for the day. For I passionately loved the beautiful Miss ----; I was just thirteen! But next morning I said to him at breakfast, in English, "Wasn't your father killed in a duel?" "Yes," said Barty, looking grave. "Wasn't he called Lord Runswick?" "Yes," said Barty, looking graver still. "Then why are you called Josselin?" "Ask no questions and you'll get no lies," said Barty, looking very grave indeed--and I dropped the subject. And here I may as well rapidly go through the well-known story of his birth and early childhood. His father, Lord Runswick, fell desperately in love with the beautiful Antoinette Josselin after his own wife had gone hopelessly mad. He failed to obtain a divorce, naturally; Antoinette was as much in love with him, and they lived together as man and wife, and Barty was born. They were said to be the handsomest couple in Paris, and immensely popular among all who knew them, though of course society did not open its doors to la belle Madame de Ronsvic, as she was called. She was the daughter of poor fisher-folk in Le Pollet, Dieppe. I, with Barty for a guide, have seen the lowly dwelling where her infancy and childhood were spent, and which Barty remembered well, and also such of her kin as was still alive in 1870, and felt it was good to come of such a race, humble as they were. They were physically splendid people, almost as splendid as Barty himself; and, as I was told by many who knew them well, as good to know and live with as they were good to look at--all that was easy to see--and their manners were delightful.