"About those sketches," she said presently, and such was her hoarseness that she was obliged to clear her throat again, "you see, I was—sweepin', and I turned 'em to the wall."
"Oh, yes," said Phil, and continued to smooth Pluto who purred lustily. "A pretty good one for New England," he thought; and carelessly turning the third card about, he came face to face with his own photograph.
With one glance of disgust he tore the picture in two and threw it down.
Eliza started. "What did you do that for?" she demanded sharply.
Phil made a motion of impatience.
"Oh, it's so darned pretty!" he explained. "I thought all those pictures were in the fire."
"Mrs. Ballard set great store by that," said Eliza coldly, "and by the sketches, too," she added.
She was sitting up stiffly in her chair, now, and her gaze fixed on Phil, as, her cat on his shoulder singing loud praise of his fondling hand, he came and stood before her.
"I wish you'd let me see some of Aunt Mary's pictures," he said.