It was a happy life, and he grew to like it better than any life he had led yet; besides, he improved rapidly, as his facility was great--for painting as for everything he tried his hand at. He also had a very agreeable social existence. One morning at the academy, two or three days after his arrival, he was accosted by a fellow-student--one Tescheles--who introduced himself as an old pupil of Troplong's in the Rue des Belges. They had a long chat in French about the old Paris studio. Among other things, Tescheles asked if there were still any English there. "Oui"--says Barty--"un nommé Valtères".... Barty pronounced this name as if it were French; and noticed that Tescheles smiled, exclaiming: "Parbleu, ce bon Valtères--je l'connais bien!" Next day Tescheles came up to an English student called Fox and said: "Well, old stick-in-the-mud, how are _you_ getting on?" "Why, you don't mean to say _you're_ an Englishman?" says Barty to Tescheles. [Illustration: PETER THE HERMIT AU PIQUET] "Good heavens! you don't mean to say _you_ are! fancy your calling poor old Walters _Vàltères_!" And after that they became very intimate, and that was a good thing for Barty. The polyglot Tescheles was of a famous musical family, of mixed German and Russian origin, naturalized in England and domiciled in France--a true cosmopolite and a wonderful linguist, besides being also a cultivated musician and excellent painter; and all the musicians, famous or otherwise, that passed through Antwerp made his rooms a favorite resort and house of call. And Barty was introduced into a world as delightful to him as it was new--and to music that ravished his soul with a novel enchantment: Chopin, Liszt, Wagner, Schumann--and he found that Schubert had written a few other songs besides the famous "Serenade"! One evening he was even asked if he could make music himself, and actually volunteered to sing--and sang that famous ballad of Balfe's which seems destined to become immortal in this country--"When other lips" ... _alias_, "Then you'll remember me!" Strange to say, it was absolutely new to this high musical circle, but they went quite mad over it; and the beautiful melody got naturalized from that moment in Belgium and beyond, and Barty was proclaimed the primo tenore of Antwerp--although he was only a barytone! A fortnight after this Barty heard "When other lips" played by the "Guides" band in the park at Brussels. Its first appearance out of England--and all through him. Then he belonged to the Antwerp "Cercle Artistique," where he made many friends and was very popular, as I can well imagine. Thus he was happier than he had ever been in his life; but for one thing that plagued him now and again: his oft-recurring desire to be conscious once more of the north, which he had not felt for four or five years.