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with him immediately,” he said by way of explaining the Baron’s manner.
    “And he clearly does not like it when they do not.”
    “I think it is more astonishment than anything else. In any case, you can stand up to him. After all, your father is the well-known Kendal Collison. I think the Baron will have a great respect for him. He really does admire artists.”
    “And clearly does not admire their daughters.”
    “Oh … he was quite amused.”
    “He has a strange way of showing amusement. In any case I am not sure that I like being a figure of fun.”
    “You will do very well. Do not let him see … how do you say it? that he rattles you? If he realizes that he does he will try it all the more to discountenance you.”
    “A most unpleasant character.”
    “He would agree with you on that.”
    “He’s a throw-back to a different century from this,” I said.
    “Fortunately we have moved forward into civilization.”
    Bertrand laughed.
    “How vehement you are. He was not so bad, was he? I think you take too much interest in this Baron.”
    “I have to …” I paused. I was going to say ‘if I am going to paint a picture of him’. I finished lamely . ‘to help my father. “
    My father had come out of his room. He looked frail and I was filled with the urgent need to protect him. If the Baron slighted him in the smallest way, I should definitely tell the man what I thought of him.
    The Baron was already in the room with the painted ceiling and with him was a woman. I was struck immediately by her appearance. At first I thought she was a great beauty, but I realized as the evening progressed that she owed that impression to her gestures, her clothes and the manner in which she wore them, to her poise and sophisticated manners. She was the sort of woman who could put on beauty as one might a piece of jewellery. It was an illusion but a clever one. Her mouth was too large, her eyes too small and her nose too short for beauty. and yet she exuded that soignee, chic and really beautiful impression.
    The Baron turned to greet us. He wore a dark blue velvet dinner-jacket and very white linen. He looked very elegant. I felt my green velvet was somewhat outmoded, and it no longer did for me the things it did at Farringdon Manor.
    “Ah,” said the Baron, ‘here is the artist. You are indeed welcome, sir, and we are honoured to have you with us. Nicole, this is Monsieur Kendal Collison and his daughter, Mademoiselle Collison. They have honoured us . you know for what purpose. Mademoiselle Collison and I have met already. Oh briefly . too briefly. My dear Monsieur and Mademoiselle Collison, allow me to present Madame St. Giles. “
    I was looking into that beautiful face. The small dark eyes were friendly, I thought, and if she made me feel gauche and unattractive, that was not her fault. I did not dislike her as I did the Baron.
    “Bertrand, I think we should go in to dinner,” said the Baron.
    “Yes,” said Bertrand and gave Madame St. Giles his arm. The Baron took mine.
    I was startled. I had not expected this formality, and I found close proximity to the Baron something which repelled me.
    Oddly enough, I think he knew that I was shrinking from him and disliked laying my hand even on his coat sleeve.
    He looked over his shoulder at my father.
    “Alas, Monsieur Collison,” he said, ‘we have no lady for you. Well, you are the guest of honour so that is your compensation. “
    My father said it was a great pleasure to be here and the Baron was too kind.
    I thought grimly: We will wait and see if that is so.
    Dinner was an elaborate meal-more so than it had been on the previous night, but not nearly so enjoyable. This was due to the Baron’s presence.
    The conversation, out of deference to my father, generally concerned art.
    “My father was a collector,” the Baron told us, ‘and he taught me to follow in his footsteps. I have always had a strong appreciation of the creative arts . whether it be in