other's backs, kissed each other on both cheeks in the Italian fashion,
and parted.

It took eight days to reach Paris by the diligence, and Joshua only got
through by stopping one day and bartering a picture for sundry loaves of
necessary bread.

But he had friends in Paris, influential friends. And when he reached the
home of these influential friends, there on the curbstone sat Giuseppe,
awaiting his coming, with the silk handkerchief knotted loosely about his
neck!

Giuseppe had thrown away the painting-kit and walked the three hundred
miles in eight days, begging or stealing by the way the food he needed.

When Joshua Reynolds opened his studio in Saint Martin's Lane, his
faithful helper was Giuseppe Marchi. Giuseppe painted just as Joshua did,
and just as well.

When sitters came, Giuseppe was only a valet: he cleaned the brushes,
polished the knives, ran for water and hovered near to do his master's
bidding. He was the only person allowed in the model-room, and all the
time he was there his keen eyes made a correct and proper estimate of the
sitter. Listening to no conversation, seeing nothing, he yet heard
everything and nothing escaped his glance.

When the sitting, which occupied an hour, was over, Giuseppe took the
picture into another room, and filled in the background and drapery just
as he knew it should be.