The boy obeyed at once, striking a perfectly natural attitude. Graham made a more elaborate drawing this time, throwing in a background of sea and sky with quick, masterful strokes. It occurred to him to put the suggestion of a storm-cloud rising in the distance, but he refrained. Somehow, he did not want to connect storm-clouds with the child.
“That will do for the front cover of Prescott’s Weekly,” he thought as he finished it.
Gerald was plainly delighted with the result.
“When I grow up,” he announced, “I’ll do what you do.”
“God forbid!”
The words escaped Gilbert Graham’s lips, in a low breath, ere he was aware.
Gerald regarded him wonderingly.
“Isn’t—isn’t that good?” he questioned, pointing to the drawing.
“That? Oh, yes, that’s good enough.”
“Then God wouldn’t forbid it!” the child declared triumphantly.