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Her dark hair was worn loose and was almost deliberately
    untidy; her beautiful dark eyes danced with enjoyment; she was dressed in a gown of mid-blue which was becoming to her dark looks. I would have known immediately, even if I had not been warned, that she was unmanageable.
    She stared at me and I returned the gaze. Then she said in English:
    “Good afternoon, miss.”
    “Good afternoon, mademoiselle,” I answered in the same tongue. She seemed amused and advanced into the room. I was aware of a grey-haired woman behind her. This was obviously the nurse, Nounou. I guessed she had been with the girl from babyhood and helped with the spoiling.
    “So you’ve come from England,” said the girl.
    “They were expecting a man.”
    “They were expecting my father. We worked together, and as he, being dead, is unable to come, I am continuing with his commitments.”
    “I don’t understand,” she said.
    “Shall we speak in French?” I asked in that language.
    “No,” she replied imperiously. f! can speak English well. ” She said, ” I am Mademoiselle de la Talle. “
    “I did assume that.” I turned to the old woman, smiled and said good day.
    “I find these pictures most interesting,” I said to her and Mademoiselle Dubois, ‘but it is obvious that they have been neglected.
    ”
     
    Neither of them answered, but the girl, evidently annoyed to be ignored, said rudely: “That will be no concern of yours since you won’t be allowed to stay.”
    “Hush, my dear,” whispered Nounou.
    “I will not hush unless I want to. Wait until my father comes home.”
    “Now, Genevieve …” The nurse’s anxious eyes were on me, apologizing for the bad manners of her charge.
    “You’ll see,” said the girl to me.
    “You may think you are going to stay, but my father …”
     
    “If,” I said, ‘your father’s manners resemble yours, nothing on earth would induce me to stay. “
    “Please speak English when you address me, miss.”
    “But you appear to have forgotten that language as you have your manners.”
    She began to laugh suddenly and twisted herself free of the nurse’s grasp and came up to me.
    “I suppose you are thinking I’m very unkind,” she said.
    “I am not thinking of you.”
    “What are you thinking of then?”
    “At the moment of these pictures.”
    “You mean they are more interesting than I am?”
    “Infinitely,” I answered.
    She did not know what to reply. She shrugged and turning away from me said pettishly in a lowered voice:
    “Well, I’ve seen her. She’s not pretty and she’s old.”
    With that she tossed her head and flounced out of the room.
    “You must forgive her, mademoiselle,” murmured the old nurse.
    “She’s in one of her moods. I tried to keep her away. I’m afraid she’s upset you.”
    “Not in the least,” I answered.
    “She is no concern of mine … fortunately.”
    “Nounou,” called the girl, imperious as ever.
    “Come here at once.”
    The nurse went out, and raising my eyebrows I looked at Mademoiselle Dubois.
    “She’s in one of her moods. There’s no controlling them. I’m sorry.”
    “I’m sorry for you and the nurse.”
    She brightened.
    “Pupils can be difficult but I have never found one quite so …” She looked furtively at the door and I wondered whether Genevieve added eavesdropping to her other charming characteristics.
    Poor woman, I thought, I didn’t want to add to her difficulties by telling her I thought she was foolish to suffer such treatment. I
    said: “If you care to leave me here I’ll make an examination of the pictures.”
    “Can you find your way back to your room do you think?”
    “I’m sure I can. I took careful note as we came along. Remember, I’m used to old houses.”
    “Well, then, I’ll leave you. You can always ring if you want anything.”
    “Thank you for your help.”
    She went out noiselessly, and I turned to the pictures, but I was too disturbed to work seriously. This was a strange