MEN I HAVE PAINTED
Colonel House was living at the Hôtel Crillon, facing the Place de la Concorde, where many of the American missions were established, with their staffs. The Colonel received me with unusual grace and simplicity of manner, and in a voice of peculiar personal charm assured me of his goodwill towards the project in view. His friendliness was like that of one who had known me for years; all restraint was at once broken down, and although I recognized in him an unlimited reserve of both firmness and sternness, his chief apparent characteristic was an easy naturalness, blended with a manly gentleness, that might have deceived the unwary.
After making two slight sketches in charcoal, I began to paint. When the portrait was partially finished, the light seemed too dull to complete it; so the position was changed to one near the window, where a strong light was reflected from a wall opposite. Choosing the position of reading a book, the head slightly turned down, I painted the eyes raised and looking straight at me.
Colonel House's eyes are remarkable. Looking at him casually, an ordinary observer might see nothing uncommon in their general character or expression; but the quiet intensity of their gaze opens mysterious depths of latent feeling. That Colonel House knew their power is told in the following story: When Lloyd George first called to see him, Colonel House asked him to take a seat with his back to the window and his face in shadow, while the Colonel seated himself in full light opposite the window. As Lloyd George expressed some surprise at this, saying that the usual practice was to put the visitor in the light, where his emotions could be more easily read, Colonel House replied, "I do not need to see my visitors; I want
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