has had plenty of fun!"

But had I had plenty of fun? That was the question. That Müller had had
plenty of flirting and plenty of fun was a fact beyond the reach of
doubt. But a flirtation, after all, unless in a one-act comedy, is not
entertaining to the mere looker-on; and oh! must not those bridesmaids
who sometimes accompany a happy couple in their wedding-tour, have a
dreary time of it?



CHAPTER XXVII.

THE ÉCOLE DE NATATION.

It seemed to me that I had but just closed my eyes, when I was waked by
a hand upon my shoulder, and a voice calling me by my name. I started up
to find the early sunshine pouring in at the window, and Franz Müller
standing by my bedside.

"_Tiens_!" said he. "How lovely are the slumbers of innocence! I was
hesitating, _mon cher_, whether to wake or sketch you."

I muttered something between a growl and a yawn, to the effect that I
should have been better satisfied if he had left me alone.

"You prefer everything that is basely self-indulgent, young man,"
replied Müller, making a divan of my bed, and coolly lighting his pipe
under my very nose. "Contrary to all the laws of _bon-camaraderie_, you
stole away last night, leaving your unprotected friend in the hands of