(_Vide_: The ingenious use which Rag makes of Bobtail's pliable hat.)
In addition to these attractions, there was, however, a factor of
paramount interest to us. Then and there, just as now and elsewhere,
there were pretty girls about, and I need not say that, as both of
us were studying art and devoting our best energies to the cult of
the beautiful, we considered it our duty to take special notice of
these pretty girls wherever we came across them. It is probably the
conscientious performance of his duty in that direction which enabled
du Maurier to evolve those ever-attractive and sympathetic types of
female beauty we are all so familiar with. Nor would it have been
becoming in me, who had everything to learn, to lag behind, or to show
less ardour in the pursuit of my studies.

[Illustration: THE INGENIOUS USE WHICH RAG MAKES OF BOBTAIL'S PLIABLE
HAT.]

Thus, whilst du Maurier's facile pen was throwing off black and white
sketches of Miss Carry, it was reserved for me to paint her portrait
in oils. Her real name was Octavie, not Carry; that appellation we had
most unceremoniously and unpoetically derived from "Cigar." All else
about her we invested, if not with ceremony with a full amount of
poetry. And certainly there was a subtle quality in Carry, well worthy
of appreciation, a faculty of charming and being charmed, of giving
and taking, of free and easiness, coupled with ladylike reserve. She
seemed to be born with the intuitive knowledge that there was only one
life worth living, that of the Bohemian, and to be at the same time
well protected by a pretty reluctance to admit as much. In fact, to
give a correct idea of her I need but say her soul was steeped in the
very essence of Trilbyism. Having got to Carry's soul, it may not be
inappropriate to say something also about her looks; but to describe