human
What's the matter, Aunt Amelia? they asked shortly.
gpt
We've got to catch this train.
human
You can't go now. You've got to make them take that picture away.
gpt
Away!
human
Didn't you see it? Didn't you _see_ it?
gpt
Well, no, not to have a good square look at it. The man in front of me kept getting in the way.
human
If you mean you don't see anything in it to make all this hurrah about, I'm with you. It don't look half finished. I don't like that slap-dash style.
gpt
Who did it look like?
human
Why, like Uncle Grid, of course. Who else?
gpt
Yes, yes, she cried;
human
Why, I don't know, I'm sure, who else. Like Grandfather Gridley, of course; but then Uncle Grid always did look like his father.
gpt
Oh, Stephen, she moaned,
human
I wish it had killed me, the way it did your uncle.
gpt
What _is_ the matter? asked her great-nephew wonderingly.
human
What do you think killed him?
gpt
That awful, awful picture! I know it now as plain as if I'd been there. He hadn't seen it all the time he was sitting for it, though he'd already put in his will that he wanted the college to have it, and when he did see it-- she turned on the merchant with a sudden fury:
human
How _dare_ you say those are your uncle's eyes!
gpt
Now, now, Aunt 'Melia, maybe the expression isn't just right, but the color is _fine_... just that jet-black his were ... and the artist has got in exact that funny stiff way uncle's hair stood up over his forehead.
human
Color! she said.
gpt
And hair! Oh, Lord, help me!