Billy found much to interest her, and she asked numberless questions.

She was greatly excited when she understood the full significance of the omnipresent "Face of a Girl"; and she graciously offered to pose herself for the artist.

She spent, indeed, quite half an hour turning her head from side to side, and demanding "Now how's that ?--and that ?" Tiring at last of this, she suggested Spunk as a substitute, remarking that, after all, cats--pretty cats like Spunk--were even nicer to paint than girls.
She rescued Spunk then from the paint-box where he had been holding high carnival with Bertram's tubes of paint, and demanded if Bertram ever saw a more delightful, more entrancing, more altogether-to-be-desired model.

She was so artless, so merry, so frankly charmed with it all that Bertram could not find it in his heart to be angry, notwithstanding his annoyance.

But when at four o'clock, she took herself and her cat cheerily up-stairs, he lifted his hands in despair.
"Great Scott!" he groaned.