of Honour, &c. Not a sou into my pocket; all for poor-box. Fancy a
fellow like me making presents to the poor-box (_vide_ sketch)! But as
the portrait will be very much spilt about (_répandu_), I may fish a
stray order or two. I have followed your advice for a whole week and
done a magnificent Framboisy. Shall not attempt to go on until you
are here to give me another stirring-up. Am going to Antwerp next week
(always am). Shall you be moving too? Journey together--great fun.
Take care of my purse and passport, and see my trunks are locked."

[Illustration: MEETING IN DÜSSELDORF. WE SAT INTO THE SMALL HOURS OF
THE MORNING, TALKING OF THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE.]

[Illustration: SCENE FROM MACPHERSON'S OSSIAN:--

"Dark was the sun! Heavy the clouds on the cliffs of Oithona--when
the fair-headed son of the Maurialva crossed his claymore with
the stern dark-browed Bobthailva and swore friendship on the names
of Carry and Damask."]

I was moving, and as du Maurier kept on being about to go to Antwerp,
I went to pay him a flying visit at Düsseldorf on my way to Paris. We
sat into the small hours of the morning (as he depicts us), talking
of the past, present, and future, a long-necked Rhine-wine bottle and
two green glasses beside us, our hopes and aspirations rising with
the cloud that curled from my ever-glowing cigar. We talked till
his fertile imagination took us across the sea, and "Ragmar of the
Maurialva and Bobthailva, the son of Moscheles, swore eternal amity on
their native heath."

Damask was another beauty whom we appreciated, perhaps all the more