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Page 22
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!"
"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.
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