“I won’t punish you by painting the frown that quite frightened me just now, but do my best to keep the happy face, and so heap coals of fire on your head.  They won’t burn any more than the pretty red leaves that brought me this good fortune,” answered the artist, seeing that his peace was made.

“I’m so glad I wore them!” and as if trying to make amends for her little flash of temper, Jessie told him about the ivy, and how she loved it,—­unconsciously betraying more of her pathetic little story than she knew, and increasing her hearer’s interest in his new model.

The children came back in riotous spirits, and Jessie was called to lead the revels again.  But now her heart was as light as her heels; for she had something pleasant to think of,—­a hope of help for Laura, and the memory of kind words to make hard duties easier.  Mr. Vane soon slipped away, promising to come the next day; and at eight o’clock Jessie ran home to tell her sister the good news, and to press the little wreath which had served her so well.

With the sanguine spirit of girlhood, she felt sure that something delightful would happen, and built fine castles in the air for her sister, with a small corner for herself, where she could watch Laura bloom into a healthy woman and a great artist.  The desire of Jessie’s heart was to earn eneugh money to enable them to spend a month or two at the seashore when summer came, as that was the surest cure for Laura’s weak nerves and muscles.  She had cherished the wild idea of being a ballet-girl, as dancing was her delight; but every one frowned upon that plan, and her own refined nature told her that it was not the life for a young girl.  Mr. Vane’s request for her head suggested a splendid hope; and after getting angry with him for hinting at her being a model, she suddenly decided to try it,—­with the charming inconsistency of her sex.  The more she thought of it, the better she liked the idea, and resolved to ask her new friend all about it, fondly hoping that much money could be made in this way.

She said nothing to her sister, but while she sat patiently to Mr. Vane when he came next day, she asked many questions; and though somewhat discouraged by his replies, confided to him her hopes and begged his advice.  Being a wise man as well as a good and kindly one, he saw at once that this life would not be safe for the pretty, impulsive, and tenderly reared girl, left so unprotected in a world full of trials and temptations.  So he told her it would not do, except so far as she would allow him to make several studies of her head in various characters and pay for them.

She consented, and though much disappointed found some consolation in hoarding a part of the handsome sum so earned for the desire of her heart.

The artist seemed in no haste to finish his work, and for some weeks came often to the sittings in that quiet room; for it grew more and more attractive to him, and while he painted the younger sister’s changeful face he studied the beautiful nature of the elder and learned to love it.  But no one guessed that secret for a long time; and Jessie was so busy racking her brain for a way to earn more money that she was as blind and deaf to much that went on before her as if she had been a wooden dummy.