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Page 21
"This way," said Aunt Lois, and they crossed the street, and stopped
before a quaint looking building. The massive oak door boasted a huge
knocker, in the form of a frowning lion's head that held a huge brass
ring.
Aunt Lois lifted the ring, and let it fall clattering against the door.
The little girls wondered if the artist would be angry. COULD that
knocker have made less noise?
Aunt Lois was so very deaf that she did not realize what a din she had
made, and smiled serenely as she stood waiting.
Polly was just wondering if the artist were too offended to respond,
when the door opened, and a tall, sturdy man, with his palette and
brushes in his hand, welcomed them.
"Ah, you have come for your sitting, and you are prompt," he said.
"I endeavored to be on time," said Aunt Lois, "and, because my sister is
away I've brought Rose and our little guest with me. I can promise that
they will not in any way disturb you. Rose has often been here with me,
but this is her little friend, Polly Sherwood."
Mr. Arthur Kirtland welcomed her very graciously, and urged her to
enjoy, with Rose, the pictures that hung upon the studio walls, stood
upon easels, and around the room.
"We'll walk about very softly, and may we go into the little room where
the lovely children are, Mr. Kirtland?" Rose asked.
"Oh, surely," he answered quickly, "you may like the child studies
best."
He meant what he said, and he also thought that if they were pleased
with the pictures in the little room that led from the main studio, it
would be quite as well.
True, a large screen kept both artist and sitter apart from the rest of
the studio, but Arthur Kirtland liked to be wholly alone, and
undisturbed while painting a portrait, and he was very glad when the
children tired of the pictures in the large studio, and went out into
the small room.
"He didn't look like what you guessed, did he?" said Rose, when together
they seated themselves in the little room.
"No, not a bit, and the reason you could guess what he was like was
because you'd seen him," said Polly, "and when he made the funny little
bow just as you did, I almost laughed."
"I don't wonder he struts when he walks. Just think who he's painted!
Two dukes, one is that man with the red hair, and the eyes that laugh at
you. It's out in the big room," said Rose, "don't you remember it?"
"Yes, but I like the big lady in velvet, and lace, that hangs next to
him," said Polly.
"That's his wife, Mr. Kirtland said so," said Rose.
"Oh, would you think a lovely lady like that would marry a man with red
hair?" said Polly.
"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.
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