It was very rude of his Royal Highness, but then he was so bored by the sitting.
The little old painter turned round full upon him.
'I never allow any one to take personal liberties with me. You are the first that ever presumed to do so. I beg your Royal Highness to recollect that I am in my own house.'
He spoke warmly, glanced haughtily, then worked at his canvas again. There was silence for some minutes. Quietly the duke opened the door and left the room. The painter took no notice.
But the royal carriage had been sent away. It would not be required until five o'clock. It was not yet four; and it was raining!
The duke returned to the studio.
'Mr. Northcote, it rains. Will you have the kindness to lend me an umbrella?'
Calmly the painter rang the bell.
'Bring your mistress's umbrella.'
Miss Northcote's umbrella was the only silk one in the house. The servant showed the prince down-stairs, and he left the house protected from the shower by Miss Northcote's umbrella.