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She laughed at him. “I want more than money. I want your valuable time. In exchange for my services as model you must amuse me. I’m lonely and bored—and full of things I want to forget.”

“How much amusement per pose?” said he.

“Oh—I shan’t be hard. Say—an hour.”

“The bargain’s closed.”

She paddled ashore, seated herself on a log a short distance before him, and rested while he filled in his notes. He glanced at her after a few minutes, was about to speak; instead he gave a grunt of satisfaction, fell to sketching her face; for the thoughts that were gilding her reverie gave her features precisely the expression of exalted, ethereal longing which he wished to put into the face in his picture. He worked feverishly, hoping she would not move and dissolve the spell until he had what he needed—enough to fix that expression.

A quarrel between two robins over a worthless twig which neither wanted startled her, drove the spiritual look from her features.

“But I got it,” said he. “Thank you.”

She looked at him questioningly.