“So this is where you are evenings, after you slip away.  You’re sitting up late, too.  See here, this won’t do!”

“Oh, yes, it will.  Don’t try to stop me, Jeff.  I’m not up late, really I’m not—­only once in awhile.”

“I thought people couldn’t paint by artificial light.”

“They can when they get used to the difference it makes.  But I do only the drudgery, evenings—­outlines and solid filling in and that sort of thing.”

“Going to show this to somebody?”

“Oh, don’t talk about it!” said Charlotte, breathlessly.  “If I can get my courage up.  You know Mr. Murdock, with that decorating house where the Deckers had their work done?  Well, some day I’m going to show him.  But I’m so frightened at my own audacity!”

“If he doesn’t like this, he’s a fool!” declared Jeff, vigorously, and although Charlotte laughed she felt the encouragement of his boyish approval.  Putting away her work, she suddenly remembered the excuse her brother had given for forcing his way into her room.

“You said you had important news for me.  Did you mean it, or was that only to get in?”

“Oh,” said Jeff sitting down suddenly and looking up at her, his face growing grave.  “You put it out of my head when I came in.  I met the doctor just now.  He’d been to see Annie Donohue.  She’s worse.”

Charlotte dropped her work instantly.  “Worse?” she said, all the brightness flying from her face.  “Why, I was in yesterday, and she seemed much better.  Jeff, I must go down there this minute.”

“It’s after ten—­you can’t.  Wait till morning.”

“Oh, no!” The girl was making ready as she spoke.  “You’ll go with me.  Think of the baby.  There’ll be a houseful of women, all wailing, if anything goes wrong with Annie.  They did it before, when they thought she wasn’t doing well.  The baby was so frightened.  She knows me.  Of course I must go.  Think what mother would do for Annie—­after all the years Annie was such a faithful maid.”

That brought Jeff round at once.  In ten minutes he and Charlotte had quietly left the house.  A rapid walk through the crisp January night brought them to the poorer quarter of the town and the Donohue cottage.  A woman with a shawl over her head met them just outside.

“Annie’s gone,” she said, at sight of Charlotte.  “Took a turn for the worse an hour ago.  I never thought she’d get well, she’s had too hard a life with that brute of a man of hers.”

Charlotte stood still on the door-step when the woman had gone on.  She was thinking hard.  Jeff remained quiet beside her.  Charlotte had known more of Annie than he; Annie had been Charlotte’s nurse.

All at once Charlotte turned and laid a hand on his arm.  “Jeff,” she said, very softly and close to his ear, “we must take little Ellen home with us to-night.”

“What!”

“Yes, we must.  She’s such a shy little thing.  Every time I’ve been here I’ve found her frightened half to death.  It worried Annie dreadfully.”