“Will you come in and listen to us?” she asked.
He reflected a moment to keep her longer by the door.
“No,” he decided, “I think I’ll not, thank you.”
“Carl seemed quite anxious to see more of you.”
“I’m afraid he will—the best I can do.”
“I must run up and see if father is awake,” she said and vanished.
With a sigh Barnes returned to his letter.
“I might paint her in an open doorway,” he wrote, “upon the point of leaving. She would be half turned, posed in so light a fashion that the onlooker would be half afraid she was about to vanish from the canvas. She should appear startled as though hearing the approach of—”
He glanced up. Aunt Philomela stood in the doorway. He rose again. She paused uncertainly.
“Won’t you come in?” he welcomed her bravely though she looked suspiciously as though loaded for bear.