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.