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"Well," he answered, ingenuously, "what—what would you advise?"
"I'd advise you to start."
"Yes, I had thought of that," he agreed. "I suppose it might be best to start. Only—where would you start?"
"I didn't agree to give you instruction, Mr. Fallon."
"Oh, certainly not! I don't ask instruction; merely—er—advice, assistance."
"Oh, well, why not sketch in your trees there?"
"Would you?" he asked, interestedly. She nodded.
"How would you do it?"
She arose quickly and crossed the grass to him.
"Get up, please, and let me have the crayon."
He obeyed. Seating herself on the
