[A Superior Person has entered the West Gallery, accompanied by a Responsive Lady, who has already grasped the fact that a taste for Pastels is the sure sign of a superior nature.

The R.L..  Isn’t that portrait quite wonderful!  Wouldn’t you take it for an oil-painting?

The S.P..  One might—­without some experience—­which is just where it is so entirely wrong.  A Pastel has no business to imitate the technique of any other medium.

The R.L. Oh, I think you are so right.  Because, after all, it is only a Pastel, isn’t it? and it oughtn’t to pretend to be anything else. (She looks reproachfully at the too ambitious Pastel.) And it isn’t as if it was successful, either—­it won’t bear being looked into at all closely.

The S.P. You should never look at a Pastel closely; they are meant to be seen from a distance.

The R.L. (brightly).  Or else you miss the effect?  I quite see.  Now, I like this—­(indicating a vague and streaky little picture)—­don’t you?  That’s what I call a real Pastel.

The S.P. (screwing up his eyes).  H’m!  Yes.  Perhaps.  Clever-ish.  Suggestive.

The R.L. (shocked).  Oh, do you think so?  I don’t see anything of that kind in it—­at least, I don’t think it can be intentional.

The S.P. The beauty of Art is to suggest, to give work for the imagination.

The R.L. (recovering herself).  I know so exactly what you mean—­just as one makes all sorts of things out of the patches of damp on an old ceiling?

The S.P. Hardly.  I should define Damp as the product of Nature—­not Art.

The R.L. Oh, yes; if you put it in that way, of course!  I only meant it as an illustration—­the two things are really as different as possible. (Changes the subject.) They don’t seem to mind what coloured paper they use for Pastels, do they?

The S.P. (oracularly).  It is—­er—­always advisable in Pastels to use a tone of paper to harmonise as nearly as possible with the particular tone you—­er—­want.  Because, you see, as the colour doesn’t always cover the whole of the paper, if the paper which shows through is different in tone, it—­er—­

The R.L. Won’t match?  I see.  How clever! (She arrives at a highly eccentric composition, and ventures upon an independent opinion.) Now I can’t say I care for that—­there’s so very little done to it, and what there is is so glaring and crude, don’t you think?  I call it stupid.

The S.P. I was just about to say that it is the cleverest thing in the Exhibition—­from an artistic point of view.  No special interest in it, but the scheme of colour very harmonious—­and very decorative.