This was exceedingly
characteristic of the girl, but Captain Rayburn, his sharp eyes
observing in her aspect the signs of misery in spite of a brave attempt
to seem cheerful, made up his mind to find out for himself. Twice he
encountered her coming down from the attic, and each time she avoided
speaking to him.
That night, after everybody was in bed, Captain Rayburn, his canes held
under his arm, crept slowly up-stairs, a little electric candle of his
own in his pocket. By means of this he soon discovered Charlotte's
ruined work, which she had not yet found heart to remove from the place
where she had first laid it, trusting to the privacy of a place which
was seldom invaded by anybody.
He sat down on a convenient box and studied the coloured plates and
sketches. As he looked, his lips drew into a whistle of surprise and
admiration, followed by a long breath of pity for what he was sure he
understood.
Jeff, having just dropped off into the sound sleep of the healthy boy,
found himself gently punched into wakefulness.
"Come to, Jeff, and tell me what I want to know," said Captain Rayburn,
smiling at his nephew in the dim white light from the candle.
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