'How oddly you talk of him! Somehow I can only see his
beautiful, kind eyes and his tender mouth. I would as soon do a
caricature of him as write a parody on a poem I loved.'
Margaret took the portfolio in which Susie kept her sketches.
She caught the look of alarm that crossed her friend's face, but
Susie had not the courage to prevent her from looking. She turned
the drawings carelessly and presently came to a sheet upon which,
in a more or less finished state, were half a dozen heads of
Arthur. Pretending not to see it, she went on to the end. When she
closed the portfolio Susie gave a sigh of relief.
'I wish you worked harder,' said Margaret, as she put the
sketches down. 'I wonder you don't do a head of Arthur as you can't
do a caricature.'
'My dear, you mustn't expect ev
