"I wish, while I'm gone, you'd paint me another picture. Will you,
PLEASE?"

When a girl has big, gray eyes that half convince you they are not gray
at all, but brown, or blue, at times, and a way of using them that makes
a fellow heady, like champagne, and a couple of dimples that will dodge
into her cheeks just when a fellow is least prepared to resist them--why,
what can a fellow do but knuckle under and say yes, especially when she
lets her head tip to one side a little and says "please" like that?

Chip tried not to look at her, but he couldn't help himself very well
while she stood directly in front of him. He compromised weakly instead
of refusing point-blank, as he told himself he wanted to do.

"I don't know--maybe I can't, again."

"Maybe you can, though. Here's an eighteen by twenty-four canvas,
and here are all the paints I have in the house, and the brushes.
I'll expect to see something worth while, when I return."

"Well, but if I can't--"

"Look here. Straight in the eye, if you please! Now, will you TRY?"

Chip, looking into her eyes that were laughing, but with a certain
earnestness behind the laugh, threw up his hands--mentally, you know.

"Yes, I'll try. How long are you going to be gone?"