Usually Margot dresses in colors that are on the dark side, like her own personal coloring. Small-featured, small-boned, her clothes, exquisite in cut, are strikingly simple. She is not given to jewelry, save for earrings without which I cannot remember ever having seen her. She is remarkably beautiful, but not in the G.I. pin-up type sense. Again there is the similarity to Anna Pavlova, who would look elegant and _chic_ today in any _salon_ or drawing-room, because her elegance was timeless. By all this, I do not mean to suggest that Fonteyn’s Christian Dior evening frocks and day dresses are not modish, but nothing she wears suggests the “latest word.” One more word about her actions. I have mentioned her complete lack of pretentiousness. I should like to emphasize her equal lack of apparent awareness of her exalted position in her chosen calling. With the company, she makes no demands, puts on no airs. There is no false grandeur and none of the so-called “temperament” that many lesser _ballerinas_ feel called upon to display upon the slightest provocation, and often upon no provocation at all. She is one who submits to the discipline of a great and continuous and uninterrupted and secure company. Fonteyn works as hard, with daily classes and rehearsals, mayhap harder, as any other of the large personnel. Her relations with the company are on the same plane. When the company travels in buses, Margot piles into the buses with them, joins in with the company at all times, is a member of it and an inspiration to it. The company, individually and collectively, love her and have the highest respect for her. Margot’s warning to me not to try to disturb her before a performance had nothing to do with pose or “temperament.” It is simply that in order to live up to her reputation she has a duty, exactly as she has a duty to the role she is to enact, and because of these things, she has the artist’s natural nervousness increased before the rise of the curtain. She must be alone and silent with her thoughts in order to have herself under complete control and be at her best. In all ballet I have never known a finer colleague, or one possessed of a greater amount of genuine good-heartedness. The examples of this sort of thing are endless, but one incident pointing it up stands out in my mind. A certain American _ballerina_ was on a visit to London. Margot invited this American girl to go to Paris with her. “Freddy” Ashton was also coming along, she said, and it would be fun. “I can’t go,” replied the American _ballerina_. “I’ve nothing to wear that’s fit to be seen in Paris.” “Come, come, don’t be silly,” replied Margot. “Here, take this suit of mine. I’ve never worn it.” And she handed over a new Christian Dior creation. Now Margot at that time was by no means too blessed with the world’s goods, and could not afford a new Dior outfit too often.