She laughed again at the memory, and Porter found himself immensely amused. She had such a cool way of turning her mental processes inside out and holding them up for others to see. "As I sat there, stealing glances at myself, I became conscious that my little blond man was studying me. Other men had looked at me, but never with such a cold, calculating gaze--and when he spoke to me, I nearly jumped out of my shoes--his voice was crisp, incisive. "'Take it off,' he said, and touched the gauze that tied up my head. "I gasped. Then I drew myself up in an attempt at haughtiness. But he wasn't impressed a bit. "'I suppose you know that I am an artist, Miss Jeliffe,' he said, 'and from the moment you came into the room, I haven't had a bit of peace. You're spoiling your type--and it affects me as a chromo would, or a crude crayon portrait, or any other dreadful thing.' "Do you know how it feels to be called a 'dreadful thing' by a man like that? Well, it simply made me shrivel up and have shivers down my spine. "'But why?' I stammered. "'Women like you,' he said, 'belong to the stately, the aristocratic type. You can be a _grande dame_ or a duchess--and you are making of yourself--what? A soubrette, with your tango skirt and your strapped slippers, and your hideous head-dress--take it off.' "'But I can't take it off,' I said, almost tearfully; 'my hair underneath is--awful.' "'It doesn't make any difference about your hair underneath--it can't be worse than it is,' he roared. 'I want to see your coloring--take it off.' "And I took it off. My hair was perfectly flat, and as I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I wanted to laugh, to shriek. But Colin Quale was as solemn as an owl. 'Ah,' he said, 'I knew you had a lot of it!' "He caught up the scarf which he had borrowed and flung it over my shoulders. He gave a flick of his fingers against my forehead and pulled down a few hairs and parted them. He whisked a little table in front of me, and thrust the bunch of roses into my arms. "'Now look at yourself,' he commanded. "I looked and looked again. I had never dreamed that I could be like that. The scarf and the table hid every bit of that Paris gown, and showed just a bit of white throat. My plain parted hair and the roses--I looked," and now Delilah was blushing faintly, "I looked as I had always wanted to look--like the lovely ladies in the old English portraits. "'Do you like it?' Colin asked. "He knew that I liked it from my eyes, and for the first time since I had met him, he laughed. "'All my life,' he said, 'I have been looking for just such a woman as you. A woman to make over--to develop. We must be friends, Miss Jeliffe. You must let me know where I can see you again.'