A little surprised at herself, Cecilia answered “Too much for me!”

Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace smiled.  “I mean in art and social questions.  Surely one can’t be too interested in them?”

Cecilia said rather hastily: 

“Oh no, of course not.”  And both ladies looked around them.  A buzz of conversation fell on Cecilia’s ears.

“Have you seen the ‘Aftermath’?  It’s really quite wonderful!”

“Poor old chap! he’s so rococo....”

“There’s a new man.

“She’s very sympathetic.

“But the condition of the poor....

“Is that Mr. Balladyce?  Oh, really.

“It gives you such a feeling of life.

“Bourgeois!...”

The voice of Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace broke through:  “But do please tell me who is that young girl with the young man looking at the picture over there.  She’s quite charming!”

Cecilia’s cheeks went a very pretty pink.

“Oh, that’s my little daughter.”

“Really!  Have you a daughter as big as that?  Why, she must be seventeen!”

“Nearly eighteen!”

“What is her name?”

“Thyme,” said Cecilia, with a little smile.  She felt that Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace was about to say:  ‘How charming!’

Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace saw her smile and paused.  “Who is the young man with her?”

“My nephew, Martin Stone.”

“The son of your brother who was killed with his wife in that dreadful Alpine accident?  He looks a very decided sort of young man.  He’s got that new look.  What is he?”

“He’s very nearly a doctor.  I never know whether he’s quite finished or not.”

“I thought perhaps he might have something to do with Art.”

“Oh no, he despises Art.”

“And does your daughter despise it, too?”

“No; she’s studying it.”

“Oh, really!  How interesting!  I do think the rising generation amusing, don’t you?  They’re so independent.”

Cecilia looked uneasily at the rising generation.  They were standing side by side before the picture, curiously observant and detached, exchanging short remarks and glances.  They seemed to watch all these circling, chatting, bending, smiling people with a sort of youthful, matter-of-fact, half-hostile curiosity.  The young man had a pale face, clean-shaven, with a strong jaw, a long, straight nose, a rather bumpy forehead which did not recede, and clear grey eyes.  His sarcastic lips were firm and quick, and he looked at people with disconcerting straightness.  The young girl wore a blue-green frock.  Her face was charming, with eager, hazel-grey eyes, a bright colour, and fluffy hair the colour of ripe nuts.

“That’s your sister’s picture, ‘The Shadow,’ they’re looking at, isn’t it?” asked Mrs. Tallents Smallpeace.  “I remember seeing it on Christmas Day, and the little model who was sitting for it—­an attractive type!  Your brother-in-law told me how interested you all were in her.  Quite a romantic story, wasn’t it, about her fainting from want of food when she first came to sit?”