The ex-soldier and the schoolboy eyed each other doubtfully for an instant as Charlotte dropped into a chair.  Her usually bright face was still very sober, and her eyelashes swept her cheek as she waited.

Captain Rayburn nodded at Jeff.  The boy stood on one foot, then on the other, pushed his hands deep into his pockets, pulled them out again, cleared his throat, laughed nervously, and strode suddenly across the room to his sister.  He thrust out his hand as he came to a halt before her.  “Congratulations to the distinguished decorator!” he cried, and came to the end, temporarily, of his eloquence.

Charlotte looked up in amazement.  Jeff seized her hand and pumped it up and down.  She glanced in bewilderment at her uncle, and met his smile of encouragement.

“Mine, too,” he said.

“What—­” she began, and her voice stuck in her throat.  Her heart began to thump wildly.  Then Jeff told it all in one burst: 

“Uncle Ray found your stuff in the attic—­thought it great—­woke me up and ground it out of me what you meant to do with it.  He was sure, as I was, it was fit to show, and you ought not to do it all over first.  Got a horse, drove into Chrystler’s, saw Murdock.  He would look at anything, listened to the story about the baby, looked at the stuff.  Face changed—­didn’t it, Uncle Ray?—­from politeness to interest, and all the rest of it.  Said the work had faults, of course—­you expected that, Fiddle—­but it showed promise—­’great promise,’ that’s just what he said.  He wants to see everything you do.  He wants you to come and see him.  He thinks he can use at least two of your rooms, after you’ve made them over.  Oh, he was great!  You’ve done it, Fiddle, you’ve done it!”

But he was not prepared for the way his sister took the good news.  She sat looking solemnly at him for a minute; then she jumped up, turned toward Captain Rayburn with a face on fire with conflicting and uncontrollable emotions, then whirled about and was out of the room like a flash.

“Well, if I ever!” declared Jeff, in intense displeasure, staring at his uncle.  But Captain Rayburn’s face was the picture of satisfaction.

“It’s all right, Jeff,” said his uncle.  “You never can tell what a woman will do, but you can count on one thing—­it won’t be what you expect.”

“You don’t suppose she was angry, do you?”

The captain smiled.  “No, I don’t think she was angry,” he said confidently.

The door flew open again.  Two impetuous arms were around Jeff’s neck from behind, nearly strangling him.  A breezy swirl of skirts, and Captain Rayburn feared for the integrity of his head upon his shoulders.  And then the two were alone again.

“Christopher Columbus!—­discovered America in 1492!” ejaculated Jefferson, an expression of great delight irradiating his countenance.  Then he looked at his uncle with an air of superior wisdom. “Now she’ll cry,” he said.