Charlotte ran off up-stairs, Jeff following. "Charlotte," he cried, as he pursued her into her room before she could turn and close the door, "what's the use of acting like this? Something's happened, and I'm going to know what it is." Charlotte sat down in a despairing heap on the floor and hid her face in her hands. Jeff glanced helplessly from her to the table in the corner. Then he observed that it was bare of the pile of drawings. "Nothing's happened to the wall-paper?" he asked, eagerly. Charlotte nodded. "What?" "Go look up in the attic, if you must know." Jeff dashed up-stairs, and surveyed the havoc. He came back breathless with dismay. "How did it happen?" "Baby--bath-tub." "The little--_imp_! Are they spoiled?" "You saw." "Yes; colours run together a bit on some, others torn in two. Yet they show what they were, Fiddle--I vow they do. I'd take them just as they are, explain the whole thing, and see what comes of it." Charlotte raised her head to shake it vigorously. "Offer work in such shape as that? I'm not such a goose." "Got to do them all over?" Her head sank again. "If I can get the courage." "Of course you can," declared Jeff, more cheerfully. "You never lack pluck. Poor girl, I'm mighty sorry, though. It's simply tough to have it happen at the last minute. You're all tired out, too--I know you are; you ought never to have to do it all over again." "If I could just have shown them to Mr. Murdock," said Charlotte, heavily, "and have found out that it was the sort of thing they would like, it wouldn't seem so hard to do them all over again. But to work for weeks more--and then perhaps have it a failure, after all----" "I know. Well, I've got to be off, or I'll be late. Mid-term exams this week. Cheer up, Fiddle, maybe you can fix 'em up easier than you think." Late in the afternoon Charlotte came to her uncle for the baby. He had cared for her all day. "She's safe with you now?" he asked, with a keen look up into her quiet face. "I hope so." Charlotte's cheek was against the little head; she held the baby tenderly. "When she is in bed to-night will you come and tell me what she did?" Charlotte shook her head, with a faint smile. "She wasn't to blame. I left her alone for ten minutes." "But I should like to know about it," he said, coaxingly. "I have had rather a busy day with Ellen-baby--why not reward me with your confidence?" But she would not promise; neither did she come. 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.