Then dismissing the
whole subject from her mind, she went to bed and to sleep.
Next day she went in search of Laurence Cromer, and found that
young man sketching in a corner of one of the picturesque terraces
of "Red Chimneys."
"Why these shyness?" asked Patty, as he quickly closed his sketch-
book at her approach. "Why these modest coquetry? Art afraid of
me? Gentle little me? Who wouldn't hurt a 'squito? Or am it that I
be unworthy to look upon a masterpiece created by one of our
risingest young artists?"
"I don't want you to see this sketch till it's finished," said
Cromer, honestly. "It's going to be an awfully pretty bit, but
unfinished, it looks like the dickens. Let me sketch you, Miss
Fairfield, may I?"
"Yes, indeed; but can you talk at the same time? I want your
advice."
"Oh, yes; the more I talk the better I work. Turn a little more to
the right, please. Oh, that's perfect! Rest your fingertips on the
balustrade, so--now, don't move!"
"Huh," remarked Patty, as Cromer began to sketch in swiftly, "how
long do I have to stand this way? It isn't such an awful lot of
fun."
"Oh, DON'T move! This is only a beginning, but I'll make a
wonderful picture from it. That shining white linen frock is fine
against the gleaming, sunlit marble of the terrace.
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