"Our mutual friend, Lord Ernest Topwood, recommended me to come to you."
Paul, who had never met Lord Ernest, but had once seen his name in a ha'penny paper beneath a photograph of Mr Arnold Bennett, bowed silently.
"As you probably guess, I want you to paint my daughter's portrait."
Paul opened his mouth to say that he was only a landscape painter, and then closed it again. After all, it was hardly fair to bother her Grace with technicalities.
"I hope you can undertake this commission," she said pleadingly.
"I shall be delighted," said Paul. "I am rather busy just now, but I could begin at two o'clock on Monday."
"Excellent," said the Duchess. "Till Monday, then." And Paul, still clutching the tooth-paste, conducted her to her carriage.
Punctually at 3.15 on Monday Lady Hermione appeared. Paul drew a deep breath of astonishment when he saw her, for she was lovely beyond compare. All his skill as a landscape painter would be needed if he were to do justice to her beauty. As quickly as possible he placed her in position and set to work.
"May I let my face go for a moment?" said Lady Hermione after three hours of it.
"Yes, let us stop," said Paul. He had outlined her in charcoal and burnt cork, and it would be too dark to do any more that evening.