It was a rare exhibition of hospitable enthusiasm, tempered by
sympathetic consideration for me and for each other.
I soon discovered that many of the water-color drawings on the walls
were the work of Miss Willoughby, and when she saw I was interested in
them she produced a portfolio of her sketches. I liked her coloring
very much. It was sometimes better than her drawing. It was dainty,
delicate, and suggestive. One picture attracted me the moment my eyes
fell upon it; it was one of the most carefully executed, and it
represented the Holly Sprig Inn.
"You recognize that!" said Miss Willoughby, evidently pleased. "You
see that light-colored spot in the portico? That's Mrs. Chester; she
stood there when I was making the drawing. It is nothing but two or
three little dabs, but that is the way she looked at a distance.
Around on this side is the corner of the yard where the bear tried to
eat up the tire of your bicycle."
I gazed and gazed at the little light-colored spot in the portico.
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