the eldest son of the house, he
is sometimes given a seat at a great banquet, or is brought into the
tapestried hall to meet an honored guest. It is at such times that he
would be dressed as in the picture. In our own day a child's finery
brings to mind dancing classes and parties, but in these far away
times it is associated only with stately ceremonies.

The painter has led his guests to a place near a window, where,
looking over their shoulders, one sees a bit of pleasant country. The
man draws the boy towards him and lays one hand on the child's
shoulder. At the painter's bidding, the little fellow puts his right
arm akimbo, imitating the attitude in some of the portraits of the
studio. The pose suits perfectly the quaint dignity of the little
figure.

It is a proud moment for the boy. It makes him almost a man to be
treated as an equal by his father. Not for worlds would he do anything
to spoil the picture; he feels the responsibility of carrying out his
part well. He regards the painter with solemn eyes, watching intently
every motion of the pencil.

There is a gleam of humor in the father's eyes as he too looks in the
same direction. He is a man of large affairs, we are sure. His high
forehead shows rare mental powers, and he has the judicial expression
of one whose counsel would be worth following. Yet there is that in
his face which shows the quiet tastes of the scholar. With his boy
beside him and a book in his hand, he is content to let the great
world go its way. Nevertheless he is something of a courtier, as his
station in life requires, a distinguished figure in any great company.
The face is one of striking nobility of character. He is a man in
whom we could place great confidence.

[Illustration: THE SO-CALLED PORTRAIT OF RICHARDOT AND HIS SON
_The Louvre, Paris_]

Two qualities of the portrait give it artistic value, life-likeness,
and character. The figures almost seem to speak to us from the canvas,
and we feel a sense of intimacy with them, as if we had actually known
them in real life. Indeed there is very little in the picture to make
it seem foreign to our own surroundings. The stiff ruff is the most
distinctly old-fashioned feature. The man's closely cut pointed beard
is such as has long been called the "Van Dyck beard." The painter wore
his own trimmed in the same way, which seems at one time to have been
equally the fashion in England and on the continent.

We remark in the picture the