He was rather floored by her productions. As far as he could judge from what she showed him, she was hopelessly without talent, and he could only wonder which of these remarkably bad studies had won for her the Lynxville Sumner Prize Fund.
He tried to give her some advice, and was thanked when she put her things away.
Then they all looked at his sketch, which Miss Snell pronounced "too charming," and Cora plainly thought did not do her justice.
"I wish you would pose a few times for me, Miss Price," he said, before leaving. "I should like very much to paint you, and it would be doing me a great favor."
The girl did not respond to this request with any eagerness. He fancied he could see she was feeling huffy again at his meagre praise of her work.
Miss Snell, however, did not allow her to answer, but rapturously promised that Cora should sit as often as he liked, and paid no attention to the girl's protest that she had no time to spare.
"This has been simply in-spiring!" said Miss Snell, as she bade him good-bye, and he left very enthusiastic about Cora's profile, and with his hand covered with paint from Miss Snell's door-knob.
In spite of Miss Snell's assurance that Cora would pose, the Painter was convinced that she would not, if a suitable excuse could be invented. Feeling this, he wrote her a most civil note about it. The answer came promptly, and did not surprise him.