I explained that I had to catch a train, so, having swallowed a fish and some plums, I rushed down the alley to my taxi, pursued by Rigamonti who abandoned his marble chisel and carried my suit-case and hurled in some last things to me. I just caught the 1.50 at Waterloo, for Godalming, to stay two days with the Midletons.[1] AUGUST 21ST. I got back to the studio about midday to find a huge bunch of roses and the following note from Kameneff:-- _London, 21 Août._ _Chère Madame_, _Je vous prie la permission de mettre ces roses rouges aux pieds de votre belle statue de la Victoire._ _Bien à vous_, _L. K._ I did so, and when he came at about 4 o’clock to sit, I thanked him, but said that they were not red and that it was a pity. He looked as if he didn’t quite understand, and said: “Yes, they are red--red for the blood of Victory.” The sentiment was right, but he is colour blind, the roses were pink! I did not argue. At about 5 o’clock S---- L----, walked in unexpectedly, and was very surprised and interested to find Kameneff, who was no less interested at hearing from S---- L---- that Archbishop Mannix is his guest, and I got a good innings at my work while these two talked together. Kameneff and I dined later at the Café Royal, and then went on to a Revue, which was very bad, but the audience laughed a good deal, and Kameneff wondered at their childish appreciation of rubbish. AUGUST 22ND. Twelve hours with Kameneff!!! He arrived at 11 a.m. with a huge album of photographs of the Revolution, very interesting. After looking at it he sat to me for an hour. We then lunched at Claridges’. After lunch we went for a taxi drive along the Embankment, and passing the Tate Gallery, went in. It is being re-arranged, but we found the Burne-Jones’ that Kameneff was looking for. He stood for a long time before “The King and the Beggar-maid.” I suppose that in the new system all the beggar-maids are queens, and that the real kings sit at their feet.