“Limpet? You’re no limpet; they cling close to the rocks; I’m surprised at you making such a feeble joke,” said Mabel merrily.
“I didn’t mean it for a joke; it’s a solemn fact,” replied Miss Rindy plaintively.
“Oh, you needn’t walk,” declared Reed. “We’ll come around in the boat and get you. There is a good little landing just below the bridge, as I believe you are aware.”
Then every one laughed, and Reed declared he would like to make a study of Ellen in a white dress and with goldenrod somewhere in the picture.
Then Tom insisted that he must do a like study of Mabel, who blushed and stammered that she was not paintable.
“Oh, aren’t you? I should say you were.” Tom squinted up his eyes and looked at her, causing greater confusion on her part.
“I speak to do Miss Crump, too,” cried Reed; “she’d make a stunning subject, so much character to get.”
“There you go,” exclaimed Tom; “I was going to speak for her, but I was going about it more diplomatically. I didn’t mean to blurt out my wishes in that bald way.”
“What’s the matter with both of us painting her if she will be so utterly angelic as to sit for us?” said Reed.
“Go along with you,” cried Miss Rindy. “The idea of asking a creature like me to sit; I’m no beauty.”