painting! I think he caught the challenge in my eye, for he evidently
felt himself in some little difficulty.

'"Oh, you couldn't," he said with a groan, "you couldn't like that
ballroom,--and that troubadour, Heaven forgive us! Well, there must be
something in it,--there must be something in it, if it really gives you
pleasure,--I daresay there is; we're so confoundedly uppish in the way we
look at things. If either of them had a particle of drawing or a scrap of
taste, if both of them weren't as bare as a broomstick of the least
vestige of gift, or any suspicion of knowledge, there might be a good
deal to say for them! Only, my dear Miss Bretherton, you see it's really
not a matter of opinion; I assure you it isn't. I could prove to you as
plain as that two and two make four, that Halford's figures don't join in
the middle, and that Forth's men and women are as flat as my hand--there
isn't a back among them! And then the taste, and the colour, and the
clap-trap idiocy of the sentiment! No, I don't think I can stand it. I am
all for people getting enjoyment where they can," with a defiant look at
me, "and snapping their fingers at the critics. But one must draw the
line somewhere. There's some art that's out of court from the beginning."

'I couldn't resist it.

'"Don't listen to him, Miss Bretherton," I cried. "If I were you I
wouldn't let him spoil your pleasure; the great thing is to _feel_;
defend your feeling against him! It's worth more than his criticisms."

'Forbes's eyes looked laughing daggers at me from under his shaggy white
brows. Mrs. Stuart and Wallace kept their countenances to perfection; but
I had him, there's no denying it.