ou to dance and you
don't want to dance with them?"

"Oh, you say your programme is full."

"But if it isn't?"

"Well, you tell a lie."

"Couldn't I say I don't dance well, and that I'm sure they'd get on
better with somebody else?"

"It would be the truth, but they might not believe it."

"I hope nobody asks me that I don't want."

"Well, he won't a second time, anyhow."

"You are rude."

"You are only a school-girl."

"I look a woman in my new frock, I really do."

"I should doubt it."

"You shall see me, then you'll be polite. It is because you are a boy
you are rude. Men are much nicer."

"Oh, are they?"

"Yes. You will be, when you are a man."

The sound of voices rose suddenly in the hall.

"Tom!" cried Miss Deleglise; and collecting her skirt in both hands,
bolted down the corkscrew staircase leading to the kitchen, leaving me
standing in the centre of the studio.

The door opened and old Deleglise entered, accompanied by a small,
slight man with red hair and beard and somewhat watery eyes.

Deleglise himself was a handsome old fellow, then a man of about
fifty-five. His massive, mobile face, illuminated by bright, restless
eyes, was crowned with a lion-like mane of iron-grey hair. Till a few
years ago he had been a painter of considerable note. But in questions
of art his temper was short. Pre-Raphaelism had gone out of fashion for
the time being; the tendency of the new age was towards impressionism,
and in disgust old Deleglise had broken his palette across his knee, and
swore never to paint again. Artistic work of some sort being necessary
to his temperament, he contented himself now with engraving. At the
moment he was engaged upon the reproduction of Memlinc's Shrine of St.
Ursula, with photographs of which he had just returned from Bruges.

At sight of me his face lighted with a smile, and he advanced with
outstretched hand.

"Ah; my lad, so you have got over your shyness and come to visit the old
bear in his den. Good boy. I like young faces."

He had a clear, musical voice, ever with the suggestion of a laugh
behind it. He laid his hand upon my shoulder.

"Why, you are looking as if you had come into a fortune," he added, "and
didn't know what a piece of bad luck that can be to a young fellow like
yourself."

"How could it be bad luck?" I asked, laughing.

"Takes all the sauce out of life, young man," answered Deleglise. "What
interest is there in running a race with the