One afternoon, about two weeks later, Kirk, returning to the studiofrom an unprofitable raid into the region of the dealers, found on thetable a card bearing the name of Mrs. Robert Wilbur. This had beencrossed out, and beneath it, in a straggly hand, the name Miss Wilburhad been written.

　　The phenomenon of a caller at the cell of the two hermits was sostrange that he awaited Ruth's arrival with more than his customaryimpatience. She would be able to identify the visitor. George Pennicut,questioned on the point, had no information of any value to impart. Avery pretty young lady she was, said George, with what you might call alively manner. She had seemed disappointed at finding nobody at home.

　　No, she had left no message.

　　Ruth, arriving a few moments later, was met by Kirk with the card inhis hand.

　　"Can you throw any light on this?" he said. "Who is Miss Wilbur, whohas what you might call a lively manner and appears disappointed whenshe does not find us at home?"Ruth looked at the card.

　　"Sybil Wilbur? I wonder what she wants.""Who is she? Let's get that settled first.""Oh, she's a girl I used to know. I haven't seen her for two years. Ithought she had forgotten my existence.""Call her up on the phone. If we don't solve this mystery we shan'tsleep to-night. It's like _Robinson Crusoe_ and the footprint."Ruth went to the telephone. After a short conversation she turned toKirk with sparkling eyes and the air of one with news to impart.

　　"Kirk! She wants you to paint her portrait!""What!""She's engaged to Bailey! Just got engaged! And the first thing shedoes is to insist on his letting her come to you for her portrait,"Ruth bubbled with laughter. "It's to be a birthday present for Bailey,and Bailey has got to pay for it. That's so exactly like Sybil.""I hope the portrait will be. She's taking chances.""I think it's simply sweet of her. She's a real friend.""At fairly long intervals, apparently. Did you say you had not seen herfor two years?""She is an erratic little thing with an awfully good heart. I feeltouched at her remembering us. Oh, Kirk, you must do a simply wonderfulportrait, something that everybody will talk about, and then ourfortune will be made! You will become the only painter that people willgo to for their portraits."Kirk did not answer. His experiences of late had developed in him anunwonted mistrust of his powers. To this was added the knowledge that,except for an impressionist study of Ruth for private exhibition only,he had never attempted a portrait. To be called upon suddenly like thisto show his powers gave him much the same feeling which he hadexperienced when called upon as a child to recite poetry before anaudience. It was a species of stage fright.

　　But it was certainly a chance. Portrait-painting was an uncommonlylucrative line of business. His imagination, stirred by Ruth's, sawvisions of wealthy applicants turned away from the studio door owing topressure of work on the part of the famous man for whose services theywere bidding vast sums.

　　"By Jove!" he said thoughtfully.

　　Another aspect of the matter occurred to him.

　　"I wonder what Bailey thinks about it!""Oh, he's probably so much in love with her that he doesn't mind whatshe does. Besides, Bailey likes you.""Does he?""Oh, well, if he doesn't, he will. This will bring you together.""I suppose he knows about it?""Oh, yes. Sybil said he did. It's all settled. She will be hereto-morrow for the first sitting."Kirk spoke the fear that was in his mind.

　　"Ruth, old girl, I'm horribly nervous about this. I am taken with asort of second sight. I see myself making a ghastly failure of this joband Bailey knocking me down and refusing to come across with thecheque.""Sybil is bringing the cheque with her to-morrow," said Ruth simply.

　　"Is she?" said Kirk. "Now I wonder if that makes it worse or better.

　　I'm trying to think!"Sybil Wilbur fluttered in next day at noon, a tiny, restless creaturewho darted about the studio like a humming-bird. She effervesced withthe joy of life. She uttered little squeaks of delight at everythingshe saw. She hugged Ruth, beamed at Kirk, went wild over WilliamBannister, thought the studio too cute for words, insisted on beingshown all over it, and talked incessantly.

　　It was about two o'clock before she actually began to sit, and eventhen she was no statue. A thought would come into her small head andshe would whirl round to impart it to Ruth, destroying in a second thepose which it had taken Kirk ten painful minutes to fix.

　　Kirk was too amused to be irritated. She was such a friendly littlesoul and so obviously devoted to Ruth that he felt she was entitled tobe a nuisance as a sitter. He wondered more and more what weirdprinciple of selection had been at work to bring Bailey and thisbutterfly together. He had never given any deep thought to the study ofhis brother-in-law's character; but, from his small knowledge of him,he would have imagined some one a trifle more substantial and seriousas the ideal wife for him. Life, he conceived, was to Bailey a statelymarch. Sybil Wilbur evidently looked on it as a mad gallop.

　　Ruth felt the same. She was fond of Sybil, but she could not see her asthe fore-ordained Mrs. Bailey.

　　"I suppose she swept him off his feet," she said. "It just shows thatyou never really get to know a person even if you're their sister.

　　Bailey must have all sorts of hidden sides to his character which Inever noticed--unless _she_ has. But I don't think there is muchof that about Sybil. She's just a child. But she's very amusing, isn'tshe? She enjoys life so furiously.""I think Bailey will find her rather a handful. Does she ever sitstill, by the way? If she is going to act right along as she did to-daythis portrait will look like that cubist picture of the 'Dance at theSpring'."As the sittings went on Miss Wilbur consented gradually to simmer downand the portrait progressed with a fair amount of speed. But Kirk wasconsciou............