human
I never can tell you how I have missed you since that all-conquering husband of yours brought you off up North. By the way, is that his photograph?
gpt
Of course it is. I'd know by the look of him that he must be Red Pepper Burns. She went over and examined the pictured face closely.
human
I could make a better picture of him than that,--I know it without seeing him in the flesh. What a splendid pair of eyes! Do they look right down into your inmost thoughts--or do they see only as far as your liver? Fine head, good mouth, straight nose, chin like a stone wall! Goodness! do you never meet up with that chin?
gpt
Of course I do! Would you have a man chinless?
human
Luckily, you have a determined little round chin of your own, Miss Ruston observed.
gpt
And you're happy with him? Yes, I can see it in your face. Well, now, shall we talk about me? Because I have so little time, you know, and so much has to be settled before night.
human
Tell me all about it at once, dear.
gpt
Well, Len, I never could lead up to a thing; I have to tell it in one burst, and trust to Providence to sustain the hearer. What would you say--to--my coming to this place for a year, renting a cottage, putting in a skylight, and--practising my profession of photography in your midst?
human
Charlotte Ruston!
gpt
My middle name is Chase, observed Miss Ruston, laying her head back against the chair, and smiling out at Mrs. Burns through half-closed lids.
human
Charlotte Chase Ruston forms a quite imposing signature to imprint upon the distinguished portraits she is to make. Portraits of the aristocracy who can afford to pay ever so many dollars a dozen for likenesses of themselves in exquisite, informal poses, with wonderful shadows just where they will hide the most defects, and splendid high lights where they will bring out all the charm the subjects didn't know they possessed.
gpt
Charlotte! Have you been studying in secret? I know you do delightful amateur work, but--a studio! Do you dare?
human
I've worked a year in the developing room of the Misses Kendall, and have been allowed to make trial studies of subjects, when they were busy. I have their friendship, also that of Brant--Eugene Brant--who does the cleverest professionally amateur studio work in the world, according to my humble opinion. And the Kendalls do the finest garden and outdoor studies, as you know. Could I have better training? Mr. Brant thinks me fit to start a city studio--a modest one--but the Misses Kendall advise a year in a small town, just working for experience and perfection. Then when I do begin in a bigger place I'll be ready to do work of real distinction. Come, tell me, isn't it a beautiful plan?
gpt
Any plan, which brings you to live near me, is a beautiful plan. And you've really chosen this little town? How did you come to do it?
human
Tales of the beauty of the region, and the reflection that, since one small town in it was probably as good as another, there was no reason why I shouldn't be near one of my dearest friends, and have, frankly, the help of her patronage. Shall you mind giving it to me?
gpt
I'll bring you a dozen subjects the first day. I suppose you haven't looked about at all as yet for the place?
human
I shall not need to, if you won't object to having me close by, even so near as across the road. As I stood on your doorstep I saw my future studio spring, full-fledged, into view, with a '_To rent_' notice already up. Could I have a plainer sign that my good fairy is attending my footsteps?
gpt
Isn't there a little old cottage, back in there somewhere, in a tangle of old-fashioned flowers? It doesn't show from here, I see, but from below I caught just a glimpse of its unimposing dimensions. The sign is on the gate, in the hedge. It's simply perfect that the place should have a hedge!
human
Evidently you didn't inspect it very closely, Charlotte dear. It's a most forlorn little old place, and much run down. Two old ladies have lived there all their lives, and have died there within the year. They would never sell, although, as you see, the neighbourhood all about is built up with modern houses--all except our own. This house is quite old, I believe, too.
gpt
Two old ladies lived and died there, did they? mused Charlotte Ruston.
human
Their gentle ghosts won't trouble us, and Granny will delight in that garden. What a background for an outdoor studio! Do let's go over and explore the place, will you?
gpt
It's a fine old street, she said,