"It is lovely," said Pauline, as she handed it to May.
"How pretty!" cried May; and then, recovering her presence of mind: "I don't see how you got such a good red."
Uncle Dan, meanwhile, was examining Kenwick's sketch.
"How the devil did you get that likeness?" he exclaimed, forgetting, for an instant, the condition he had made.
"Then the thing is forfeited," Kenwick remarked.
"That's a fact," the Colonel answered, turning up on the artist a glance of quick distrust. "What's to be done about it?"
"That is for you to say," Kenwick replied. "The sketch is yours."
The Colonel's face flushed. He had a very lively appreciation of a graceful act, and he was really delighted with the picture.
"Why, bless my soul!" he cried; "that's a present worth having! Eh, Polly?"
"Indeed it is!" Pauline agreed, cordially, taking the picture from her uncle's hand and studying it attentively.