“Why not, sir?  She would be very silly to refuse, I think.”

“Then you wouldn’t be offended if asked to sit in this way?”

“Oh, no.  I’ve sat for Laura many a time, and she says I make a very good model.  But then, she only paints simple little things that I am fit for.”

“That is just what I want to do.  Would you mind asking the young lady for me?  She is just behind you.”

Jessie turned with a start, wondering who had come in; but all she saw was her own curious face in the mirror, and Mr. Vane’s smiling one above it.

“Do you mean me?” she cried, so surprised and pleased and half ashamed that she could only blush and laugh and look prettier than ever.

“Indeed I do.  Mrs. Murray thought the request would annoy you; but I fancied you would grant it, you wore such a graceful little garland, and seemed so interested in the pictures here.”

“It is only a bit of ivy, but so pretty I wanted to wear it, as I had nothing else,” said the girl, glad that her simple ornament found favor in such eyes.

“It is most artistic, and caught my eye at once.  I said to myself,’ That is the head I want, and I must secure it if possible.’  Can I?” asked Mr. Vane, smiling persuasively as he saw what a frank and artless young person he had to deal with.

“With pleasure, if Laura doesn’t mind.  I’ll ask her, and if she is willing I shall be very proud to have even my wreath in a famous picture,” answered Jessie, so full of innocent delight at being thus honored that it was a pretty sight to see.

“A thousand thanks!  Now I can exult over Mrs. Murray, and get my palette ready.  When can we begin?  As your sister is an invalid and cannot come to my studio with you, perhaps you will allow me to make my sketch at your own house,” said Mr. Vane, as pleased with his success as only a perplexed artist could be.

“Did Mrs. Murray tell you about us?” asked Jessie quickly, as her smiles faded away and the proud look came into her face; for she was sure their misfortunes were known, since he spoke of poor Laura’s health.

“A little,” began the new friend, with a sympathetic glance.

“I know models are paid for sitting; did you wish to do it with me because I’m poor?” asked Jessie, with an irrepressible frown and a glance at the thrice-cleaned dress and the neatly mended gloves.

Mr. Vane knew what thorn pricked the sensitive little girl, and answered in his friendliest tone,—­

“I never thought of such a thing.  I wanted you to help me, because I am poor in what artists so much need,—­real grace and beauty.  I hoped you would allow me to give your sister a copy of the sketch as a token of my gratitude for four great kindness.”

The frown vanished and the smile returned as the soft answer turned away Jessie’s wrath and made her hasten to say penitently,—­

“I was very rude; but I haven’t learned to be humble yet, and often forget that I am poor.  Please come to us any time.  Laura will enjoy seeing you work, and be delighted with anything you give her.  So shall I, though I don’t deserve it.”