"P"raps she liked red hair," Rose said, "and Polly, did you ever see anything so cunning as that picture of a little girl with her hands full of roses?"
Polly thought the picture charming, and together they walked around the little room enjoying flower studies, sketches, and finished pictures of children, until Polly espied a small door.
"Oh, see that funny little door!" she whispered, "where does that lead to? Is it a closet door, do you suppose?"
"Oh, no, that"s not a closet," Rose replied, "I"ve often seen it open.
Just outside it is a wee little garden just big enough to hold some fine holly-hocks. I"ll show you. "Most always the door is open."
"Open it softly. He wouldn"t like it if we made a noise," whispered Polly.
Rose turned the latch very gently, and opened the door a few inches. A flood of golden sunlight swept in, and just outside the tall holly-hocks in gorgeous coloring swayed in the soft breeze.
"Hear them rustle just as if they were paper flowers," whispered Polly.
"Oh, it"s lovely out there."
"Let"s go out just a little way."
"All right," agreed Rose, "come out, and I"ll shut the door," and Polly followed her out into the sunlight.
"Oh, you didn"t latch the door," said Polly.
"Oh, dear! I meant to," said Rose, "but it isn"t MUCH open. If I go back, and pull it real hard to make it latch it"ll make a noise, and Mr.
Kirtland won"t like it. We won"t stay out long, so it doesn"t matter."
"When we DO go back, let"s sit on that little sofa in the corner. That"s a cosy place."
"All right," agreed Rose, and together they walked up and down the little path that led from the tiny, side door to the street.
"The studio is grand, and the people he"s painted look as if they could speak, if they chose," said Polly, "but somehow it made me feel queer to see them all looking at me."
"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!"
"h.e.l.lo!" 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."
They waited for no more urging, and together the three little friends ran across the street, through a side street, and down a broad avenue.
"It"s just a little farther down this way," said Lester.
"Why it"s ever so far from the studio, Lester Jenks, and you SAID we"d just skip to it," said Rose, breathlessly.
"Well, aren"t we skipping?" he said with a laugh, "we run a few steps, and then you and Polly skip along a little way, and then you run again."
Rose was just wondering if they ought to turn back without the little treat, when Lester caught her hand, saying:
"Here we are," and he boldly opened the door.
A tiny bell tinkled as the door closed behind them, and a little, white haired old lady came out to greet them.
"We want some ice cream, these ladies and me," said Lester, trying to look as tall as possible, and hoping that she did not notice that he was wearing knee breeches. He thought that no one would dream that he was a small boy if only they could not see those knee breeches that he so heartily despised.
The old lady served the cream in dainty gla.s.ses, and heaped it high in a tiny pile that really amounted to little, but looked great--for five cents.
"How cool and dark it is in here," said Rose.
"It is a lovely place to eat ice cream in," said Polly.
The strawberry ice cream was very, very pink, and they thought it delicious.
"Do you think we"ve been gone long, YET, Lester?" questioned Rose.
"Of course not," said Lester, but Rose wished that he would eat his cream a little faster.