magically made him see marvels in what at the first view had struck him
as a wilful and clumsy absurdity.

"Oh!" murmured Buck, stiffening.

"What do you think of Cézanne?"

"Rule it out!" said Buck, with a warning cantankerous inflection, firmly
and almost brutally reproving this conversational delinquency of
George's. "Rule it out, young man! We don't want any of that sort of
mountebanking in England. We know what it's worth."

George was cowed. More, his faith in Cézanne was shaken. He smiled
sheepishly and was angry with himself. Then he heard Mr. Prince saying
calmly and easily to Miss Haim--the little old man could not in fact be
so nervous as he seemed:

"I suppose _you_ wouldn't come with me to the Prom?"

George was staggered and indignant. It was inconceivable, monstrous,
that those two should be on such terms as would warrant Mr. Prince's
astounding proposal. He felt that he simply could not endure them
marching off together for the evening. Her acceptance of the proposal
would be an outrage. He trembled. However, she declined, and he was
lifted from the rack.

"I must really go," she said. "Father's sure to be home by now."

"May I?" demanded Mr. Buckingham Smith, stooping over Marguerite's
portfolio of designs, and glancing round at her for permission to open