He lingered long before the "Raffaellos" and stood in the "Rubens
Gallery" dumb with wonder and admiration.

There were various people copying pictures here and there. He watched
them furtively, and after seeing one young man working at an easel in a
certain place for a week, he approached and talked with him.

Jean Francois told his history and the young man listened patiently. He
advised that it would be foolish to go back to Gruchy at once. The youth
should go to some master and show what he could do--remain and study for
a little while at least; in fact, he himself would take him to Delaroche.
Things looked brighter; and arrangements were made to meet on the morrow
and go interview the master.

Delaroche was found and proved kindly. He examined the two sketches that
Jean Francois submitted, asked a few questions, and graciously led the
new applicant into the atelier, where a score of young men were
sketching, and set him to work.

The letter written by Jean to the good old grandmother that night hinted
at great plans for the future, and told of love, and of hope that was
dauntless.

* * * * *

Twelve years were spent by Jean Francois in Paris--years of biting
poverty and grim endurance: the sport and prey of Fate: the butt and
byword of the fashionable, artistic world.

Jean Francois did not belong in Paris: how can robins build nests in