Why should he?"
Celia and Captain Rayburn, laughing, exchanged a sympathetic,
comprehending glance.
* * * * *
CHAPTER VI
Three times Jefferson Birch knocked on his sister Charlotte's door. Then
he turned the knob. The door would not open. "Fiddle!" he called,
softly, but got no reply.
"You're not asleep, I know," he said, firmly, at the keyhole. "I can see
a light from outside, if you have got it all plugged up here. Let me in.
I've some important news for you."
Charlotte's lock turned and she threw the door open. "Well, come in,"
she said. "I didn't mean anybody to know, but I'm dying to tell
somebody, and I can trust you."
"Of course!" affirmed Jeff, entering with an air of curiosity. "What's
doing? Painting?"
The table by the window was strewn with artist's materials, drawings,
sheets of water-colour paper and tumblers of coloured water. In the
midst of this confusion lay one piece of nearly finished work--the
interior of an unfurnished room, showing wall decoration and nothing
more. The colouring caught Jeff's eye.
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