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the air.”
    “We shall see, Kate. In the meantime let us think up a good plan of action. I wonder where we shall be working. It’ll have to be lighter than these rooms.”
    “I am beginning to wonder where this will end.”
    “Let us concern ourselves first with the beginning. We’re here, Kate.
    We’re going to meet this Monsieur de Mortemer tonight. Let’s see what he has to say to your presence here. “
    While we were talking there was a knock and a maidservant came in carrying coffee and a kind of brioche with a fruit preserve. When we had eaten, she said she would return and take me to my room, which was next to my father’s. Then water would be brought for us to wash. We had plenty of time before dinner.
    The coffee and brioche were delicious and my spirits rose. I began to catch my father’s optimism.
    My room was very like his. There were thick carpets on the Hoor and the draperies at the window were of dull purple velvet. There was an armoire, some chairs and a table on which stood a heavy mirror. I knew I could be comfortable here.
    My luggage was brought in and I prepared to change for dinner.
    What did one wear in a place like this? I had imagined that there would be a certain amount of ceremony, and I was thankful for Lady Farringdon’s parties for which I had had several dresses made.
    I chose a fairly sober one of dark green velvet with a full skirt and fitted bodice. It was by no means a ball gown but it had been suitable for the musical evenings which Lady Farringdon had given and I thought it would fit the present occasion. Moreover I always felt my most confident in that colour green jewel colour, my father called it.
    “The old masters were able to produce it,” he said.
    “No one else wAs very successful with it after the seventeenth century. In those days colour was important and great artists had their secrets which they kept to themselves. It’s different now. You have to buy it in a tube and it is not the same.”
    When I was ready I went to my father’s room. He was waiting for me and I had not been there more than a few minutes when there was a discreet tap on the door. It was the steward himself who had come to conduct us down to dinner.
    We seemed to walk some distance and were in another part of the castle. The architecture had changed a little. The castle was evidently vast and must have been added to considerably over the centuries. It seemed to have changed from early Norman to late Gothic.
    We were in a small room panelled with a painted ceiling which caught my eye immediately. I should enjoy examining that at some later time.
    In fact there were so many features of this place about which I had promised myself the same thing. We had been hurried through a. picture gallery and I was sure my father found the same difficulty as I did in not begging the steward to call a halt so that we might study the pictures.
    This was like an anteroom the sort of place, I thought, where one might wait to receive an audience with a king. This Baron de Centeville seemed to live like a king. I wondered what sort efface he had. I had a strong feeling that it was not going to suit a miniature.
    Someone had entered the room. I caught my breath. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was of medium height with light brown hair and eyes; he was elegantly dressed and his dinner jacket was of a rather more elaborate cut than I was accustomed to seeing at home. His very white shirt was daintily tucked and his cravat was of sapphire blue. A single stone sparkled in it as only a diamond could.
    He bowed low and taking my hand kissed it.
    “Welcome,” he said in English, “I am delighted to receive you on behalf of my cousin, the Baron de Centeville. He regrets he is unable to see you tonight. He will be here tomorrow. You must be hungry.
    Would you care to come to dinner immediately? It is a small affair this evening. We dine . a trois . very in time . I thought that best on the night of your