“But what is it?” asked Judith, glancing at the paper and then smiling.
“Allerton drew it, just for us,” said Donald, flushed and angry, “and Becky grabbed it and ran away. Make her give it back, Cousin Judith—Allerton doesn’t want anyone to see it.”
“But it is quite clever,” replied Judith, still smiling. “I did not know you were so good an artist, Allerton.”
“I am not very clever, Miss Eliot,” replied Allerton, in his sedate way. “Mother thinks I am artistic, and encourages me to draw; but she does not like me to make cartoons, such as this, for she says it degrades my talent.”
“H-m. Let’s see the cartoon,” said the judge.
“May I show it to Mr. Ferguson, Allerton?”
The boy hesitated.
“If you wish to, Miss Eliot,” he said.
The judge took the paper, put on his glasses, and after a glance laughed heartily. It was a caricature of old Miss Halliday, executed with considerable humor and skill, considering the artist’s youth.
Suddenly the judge gave a start and the paper trembled in his hands.