was
to be a pretty bay-window at the south, commanding a view of the
Collingwood grounds and the river. There was to be another window on a
side, but whether to the east or the west he could not quite decide.
There was to be a dressing-room and large closet, while the main room
was to be carried up in the centre, after the fashion of a church, and
to be ceiled with narrow strips of wood painted alternately with a pale
blue and gray. He showed the sketch to his grandmother, who approved it,
just as she approved everything he did, but suggested that he submit it
to Maude Tracy, who she heard, had become an artist and had a studio; so
he took the plan to Maude, explaining it to her, and saying it was to be
a surprise to Jerrie, when she came home for good in the summer. Maude
was interested and enthusiastic at once, and entered heart and soul into
the matter, making some suggestions which Harold adopted, and deciding
for him where the extra window was to be placed.

'Put it to the east,' she said, 'for Jerrie is always looking toward the
rising sun, because, she says her old home is that way. And, besides,
she can see the Tramp House she is so fond of. For my part, I think it a
poky place, and never like to pass it after dark, lest I should see the
dark woman standing in the door, with the candle in her hand, crying for
help. Where was Jerry then, I wonder! In the carpet-bag, asleep,
perhaps. Wouldn't that make a very effective picture! The storm, the
open door, the frantic woman in it, with the candle held high over her
head, and Jerrie clutching her dress behind, with her great blue eyes
staring out in the darkness. That is the way I have always seen it since
you told me about it, and the light you saw. I mean to paint the
picture, and hang it in the new room as another surprise to Jerrie.'

'Oh, don't!' Harold said, with a shudder. 'Jerrie would not like it. It
almost killed her when she first knew of the cry which Mr. Arthur heard,
and the light I saw that night. She insisted upon knowing everything
there was to know; and when I told her all the color left her face, and
for a moment she sat rigid as a stone, with a look I shall never forget,
and then she cried as I never saw anybody cry before. This was three
years ago, and she has never spoken to me of it since.'

Harold's voice trembled as he talked, while Maude cried outright. The
idea of the picture was given up, and she went back to the subject of
the new room