"I didn't know we had such a good little artist among us," said
Grandpapa, wonderfully well pleased and smiling kindly at her.
"That is nothing," said Adela, in despair at ever stopping the flow of praise. "I spoiled it, and I'm going to do Polly a better one."
"Nothing could be better, my dear," said Grandpapa, blandly; "it is a fine likeness of Phronsie." And then he questioned her as to her training in the art, and what she meant to do in the future, and where she intended to study and all that, getting an immense amount of information so artfully that Adela never for an instant suspected his reason. All the time he was holding the sketch of Phronsie in his hand, and intently gazing on it most of the time.
"Well," he said at last, "I won't keep you young people any longer,"—for Jasper had thrown down the portfolio and joined the group,—"so run back to your own corner. Dear me," pulling out his watch, "it's only twenty minutes to luncheon. How time does fly, to be sure! To-morrow morning, remember, we are off for Antwerp."
"O dear, dear!" exclaimed Polly, as they ran back and bent over the portfolio again, "we haven't half seen Amsterdam, Jasper."
"No, and you wouldn't if you stayed a year," observed Jasper, wisely.
"We must go over to the Ryks Museum once more," said Polly.
"Yes, let us go there directly after luncheon," proposed Jasper. "I know what you want to do, Polly,—sit in front of 'The Night Watch' again."
"Yes, I do," said Polly. "I couldn't go away without seeing that picture once more, Jasper."
"I don't like that 'Night Watch,'" said Adela, "it's too dark and too smutty. I don't see why people like it so much."