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."