They took the first car down town and went to a café for lunch. Willard laughed mischievously as he glanced down the wine list on the menu card. “What will you have to-day?” “What I usually take,” she answered, in the same playful mood. “I received that perplexing note of yours, but don’t quite interpret it,” he began, taking it from his pocket and reading: ‘DEAR MR. FROST: I am anxious to sit for the picture at once. Of course you will never speak of it. Don’t let anyone know it. Yours, in confidence, CHEROKEE.’ “It is very plain,” she pouted. “Don’t you remember I had told you I was going to have my portrait made for Mrs. Stanhope on her birthday. That doesn’t come just yet, in fact it is three months off, but you know we are going to ‘Frisco’ for the winter, and there isn’t much time to lose; I have been busy two months making preparations.” “What! Are you going, too? I was thinking a foolish thought,” he sighed. “I was thinking maybe you would remain here while they were away.” “Not for anything; I have been planning and looking forward to this trip a whole year.” She seemed perfectly elated at the thought. “There is nothing to induce you to remain?” “Nothing,” she answered, with emphasis. “I have an aunt with whom you could stay, and we could learn much of each other. Do stay,” he insisted. “I must go, though I shall not forget you in the ‘winter of our content.’” “That’s very kind, I am sure, but I have set my heart on seeing you during the entire season, for Milburn, poor boy, is so hard at work he will not intrude upon my time often. Besides, he is getting careless of late--doesn’t want society. The fact is, I believe he is profoundly discouraged. This work of art is a slow and tedious one. But he keeps on at it, except when he has been drinking too heavily.” “Drinking! Mr. Frost, you surely are misinformed; Robert never drinks.” Her manner was dignified, though she did not seem affected, for she was too certain there was some mistake. “I hope I have been,” he said, simply. He saw at once that she would not believe him. For love to her meant perfect trust; faith in the beloved against all earth or heaven. Whoever dared to traduce him would be consumed in the lightning of her luminous scorn, yet win for him, her lover, a tenderer devotion. “So you are going to ‘Frisco,’ and I cannot see you for three long months? Well, I must explain something,” he began. “It is rather serious, it didn’t start out so, but is getting very serious. I got your note about the money more than a week ago--” His voice trembled, broke down, then mastering himself, he went on, “I could not meet the demand. Ah, if I could only get the model I wanted, I could paint a picture whose loveliness none but the blind could dispute--a picture that would bring more than three times the amount I owe you.” He watched the girl eagerly, the while soft sensations and vague desires thrilled him.