'What a pretty park this is. It always seems to me like a lady's
boudoir, or what I imagine a lady's boudoir must be like.'

'Have you never seen a lady's boudoir?'

'No; I don't think I have. I've never been in what you call society. I
had to make my living ever since I was sixteen. My father was a small
tradesman in Brixton. When I was sixteen I had to make my own living.
I used to draw in the illustrated papers. I began by making two pounds
a week. Then, as I got on, I used to live as much as possible in the
country. You can't paint landscapes in London.'

'You must have had a hard time.'

'I suppose I had. It was all right as long as I kept to my newspaper
work. But I was ambitious, and wanted to paint in oils; but I never
had a hundred pounds in front of me. I could only get away for a
fortnight or a month at a time. Then, as things got better, I had to
help my family. My father died, and I had to look after my mother.'

Mildred raised her eyes and looked at him affectionately.

'I think I could have done something if I had had a fair chance.'

'Done something? But you have done something. Have you forgotten what
the _Spectator_ said of your farmyard?'

'That's nothing. If I hadn't to think of getting my living I could do
better than that. Oil painting is the easiest material of all until