“Is he asleep?” he whispers.
“Yes,” sobs Jeanette.
By and by as the lad turns slowly away, she places in his hands the portfolio, saying;
“He tells me eet ees for you.”
Belle, noticing her brother as he enters the house and hurries through the hall on his way to his room, exclaims:
“Why, Ned, you’ve been crying! What’s the matter?”
“Ernest is dead!”
“Who is Ernest?” inquires the father, lately returned, glancing up from his newspaper.
When he has heard Ned’s story he asks to see the sketches. While he is examining them, Belle comes and looks over his shoulder. Suddenly she utters a little scream.