Virginia, thus appealed to, brought her dreamy gaze from the portrait of the burgomaster who sits with his small son. "What? A fancy dress? Oh, Mims, yes! That little bit of stiffened lace round the back of her hair is an inspiration. I could make it, too--I see just how it's done." The two proceeded to examine the head-dress in detail, with girlish talk about the way to copy it. "Gold embroidery all down the front of her gown. How sweet!" sighed Virginia admiringly. "But that ruff--would it do?" "For you? Of course! You could wear it, for you have a throat. But what _did_ little people like me do, when they had all that between their chin and their chest?" Virginia was much amused. "No, Mims, you were not made for a ruff! But then, _en revanche,_ you can wear all those lovely Venetian reds and ambers that I can't touch!" Childish talk, but with no suspicion of a critical listener! The lame man heard every word. As the eager girl turned to point across the gallery to a picture exemplifying the colours she meant, she slightly brushed against him, for he was standing within a few feet of her. He stepped back, raising his hat in acknowledgment of her gentle apology; and his eyes, full of something between hostility and contempt, met hers hardly, as if in a challenge, for a puzzling instant before he turned away and limped to another place. Virginia's colour rose and her lips set, as if an unspoken insult had reached her. She was not used to read hostility in the eyes of men. She recovered, however, in a moment, and continued her study of the pictures, moving round for some minutes longer, until Miriam, leaning near her, murmured: "Shall we go into the next room? There is a custodian there, and that man keeps on staring odiously." "Yes; let us go and look at the Greuzes," replied Virginia. It was not long before the unknown man followed them. He was now more careful, however, and kept his eyes for the beauties of the catalogue instead of allowing them to roam towards the beauties of his own day. "I don't think he meant to be rude," presently said Virginia doubtfully. "He looked at me almost as though he thought he knew me--as if he expected me to speak to him." "My dear, it is evident that you must never be allowed to go about London alone," laughed Mims. "As if he knew you, indeed! That's the commonest dodge of all. I am sure he is trying to be rude--he is edging round here now----" "Oh, nonsense! Let us think about the pictures and take no notice. He could not be rude in a public place like this--he cannot think we are girls of that sort." "There's the portrait of you," said Mims mischievously, pausing before Greuze's picture entitled "Innocence"--the picture with the lamb. It was true, the likeness was striking. Virginia even coloured slightly as she gazed. "Chocolate box!" said she disdainfully. "Greuze is only pretty-pretty! I would far rather be like Isabella de Vos!"