Stephanie had duties at a different sort of an Exchange; and she also took her leave, thanking Neville warmly for the pleasure she had had, and promising to lunch with Lily at the Continental Club. When they had departed, Lily said: "I suppose that is a portrait of your model, Valerie West." "Yes," he replied shortly. "Well, Louis, it is perfectly absurd of you to show so plainly that you consider our discovery of it a desecration." He turned red with surprise and irritation: "I don't know what you mean." "I mean exactly what I say. You showed by your expression and your manner that our inspection of the picture and our questions and comments concerning it were unwelcome." "I'm sorry I showed it.... But they _were_ unwelcome." "Will you tell me why?" "I don't think I know exactly why--unless the portrait was a personal and private affair concerning only myself--" "Louis! Has it gone as far as that?" "As far as what? What on earth are you trying to say, Lily?" "I'm trying to say--as nicely and as gently as I can--that your behaviour--in regard to this girl is making us all perfectly wretched." "Who do you mean by 'us all'?" he demanded sullenly. "Father and mother and myself. You must have known perfectly well that father would write to me about what you told him at Spindrift House a month ago." "Did he?" "Of course he did, Louis! Mother is simply worrying herself ill over you; father is incredulous--at least he pretends to be; but he has written me twice on the subject--and I think you might just as well be told what anxiety and unhappiness your fascination for this girl is causing us all." Mrs. Collis was leaning far forward in her chair, forgetful of her pose; Neville stood silent, head lowered, absently mixing tints upon his palette without regard to the work under way. When he had almost covered his palette with useless squares of colour he picked up a palette-knife, scraped it clean, smeared the residue on a handful of rags, laid aside brushes and palette, and walked slowly to the window. It was snowing again. He could hear the feathery whisper of the flakes falling on the glass roof above; and he remembered the night of the new year, and all that it had brought to him--all the wonder and happiness and perplexity of a future utterly unsuspected, undreamed of. And now it was into that future he was staring with a fixed and blank gaze as his sister's hand fell upon his shoulder and her cheek rested a moment in caress against his. "Dearest child," she said tremulously, "I did not mean to speak harshly or without sympathy. But, after all, shouldn't a son consider his father and mother in a matter of this kind?" "I have considered them--tried to." Mrs. Collis dropped into an arm-chair. After a few moments he also seated himself listlessly, and sat gazing at nothing out of absent eyes.