“And once I peeped over my shoulder and that man in the hunting costume had his eyes right on me,” said Rose, “and I turned my head away.  When I turned again, he looked as if he’d speak, and if he did, I just know he’d say:  ’I’m still looking at you, Rose Atherton; you can’t dodge me!’”

“I do truly love the pictures,” Polly said, “but I never saw so many all at once, and I didn’t feel queer about them, until we’d been with them quite a while.  I guess we’d feel different if somebody had been talking.  It was still and cool in there, and did you notice?  The corners in the little room were shady and almost dark.”

“He doesn’t speak, after he really begins to paint,” said Rose.  “He says:  ’Turn a bit this way Miss Lois.  No, not quite so much, that’s it.  Now hold that pose, please,’ and then he doesn’t speak again until he stops painting.

“At first he said Aunt Lois could rest often, but she doesn’t care to.  She says it’s easy to sit in the big carved chair.  I’d be wild to sit still so long!”

“Hello!” a merry voice shouted, and they turned toward the street.

It was Lester Jenks.  He was beckoning to them, and they ran out to the sidewalk.

“What ye’ doing here?” he asked.

“Aunt Lois is having her portrait painted, and we came with her, and we’re just waiting ’til she’s ready to go home.”

“Oh, then I’ll tell you what let’s do.  Let’s have some ice cream!  I said I’d treat some day, and I know a nice place.  Come!” urged the boy, but they hesitated.

“Don’t you want to?” he asked.

“Oh, yes!” they cried, “but we ought to ask Aunt Lois,” said Rose, “and we can’t.  Mr. Kirtland is painting, and he hasn’t said a single word for ever so long.  It’s so still in there that it makes you feel as if you almost mustn’t breathe.  I wouldn’t dare to run right in and ask Aunt Lois!”

“Why, you don’t have to.  We’ll just skip over to the ice cream parlor, and we’ll be back long before he’s done painting.  Come along!  If you don’t, I’ll think you don’t want to, and that isn’t nice when I’ve asked you,” said Lester.  “Oh, dear, it isn’t polite to let him think that when I’m wild to go, and I just know Polly is,” thought Rose.

“Are you sure it won’t take us long to go, and get back?” Polly asked.

“Oh, it’s just a step!” said Lester.

“There’s a nice little old lady keeps the place, and she gives you awful big ice creams for five cents.  You have ’em on a marble table in her little parlor.  There’s a green carpet on the floor, and the room is awful cool.  Oh, come on!  I wish you would.”

The invitation was not elegantly expressed, but it certainly was cordial.

“I guess we’ll have to go,” said Rose, “would you, Polly?”

“I’d like to,” was the reply.

“Then come!” said Lester, “we’ll be there and back here before anyone would guess you’d been even outside that door.”