"What in God's name is the matter?" cried Auberon, holding his wrist. Wayne flung back his face, and the tears were shining on it. "I am only a boy," he said, "but it's true. I would paint the Red Lion on my shield if I had only my blood." King Auberon dropped the hand and stood without stirring, thunderstruck. "My God in Heaven!" he said; "is it possible that there is within the four seas of Britain a man who takes Notting Hill seriously?" "And my God in Heaven!" said Wayne passionately; "is it possible that there is within the four seas of Britain a man who does not take it seriously?" The King said nothing, but merely went back up the steps of the dais, like a man dazed. He fell back in his chair again and kicked his heels. "If this sort of thing is to go on," he said weakly, "I shall begin to doubt the superiority of art to life. In Heaven's name, do not play with me. Do you really mean that you are--God help me!--a Notting Hill patriot; that you are--?" Wayne made a violent gesture, and the King soothed him wildly. "All right--all right--I see you are; but let me take it in. You do really propose to fight these modern improvers with their boards and inspectors and surveyors and all the rest of it?" "Are they so terrible?" asked Wayne, scornfully. The King continued to stare at him as if he were a human curiosity. "And I suppose," he said, "that you think that the dentists and small tradesmen and maiden ladies who inhabit Notting Hill, will rally with war-hymns to your standard?" "If they have blood they will," said the Provost. "And I suppose," said the King, with his head back among the cushions, "that it never crossed your mind that"--his voice seemed to lose itself luxuriantly--"never crossed your mind that any one ever thought that the idea of a Notting Hill idealism was--er--slightly--slightly ridiculous?" "Of course they think so," said Wayne. "What was the meaning of mocking the prophets?" "Where," asked the King, leaning forward--"where in Heaven's name did you get this miraculously inane idea?" "You have been my tutor, Sire," said the Provost, "in all that is high and honourable." "Eh?" said the King.