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"It was the park that brought us here," said Patricia, leading the way upstairs to the spacious front room where Miss Jinny was to be domiciled. "And we're so glad we came. Mrs. Hudson is so kind to us that we don't feel like strangers at all. Even Ju adores her, and you know how hard she is to suit." Maurice returned home after a somewhat stormy interview with Mrs. Dallas. For once the mother of Isabella was roused out of her habitual indifference, and she refused absolutely to accept Alymer as her son-in-law. In vain the lovers implored her to give some reason for her strange refusal, but beyond expressing a personal dislike for Maurice she declined to explain her conduct. The young man saw in this uncalled for behavior the hostile influence of Dido. "Mother, what is it? What does Dido sing?".

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"Haven't we had a gorgeous time?" she said, thoughtfully. "I didn't realize that we could enjoy ourselves so much for such a long time. It's been a whole month now, and getting nicer every day. We've been always so pinched that it seems almost wicked to be so careless about spending money, doesn't it, Norn?" "Why Mrs. Dallas wants Isabella to marry David." Not another word would the major say on the subject at that moment, so Maurice was forced to seek his room in a very unsatisfied frame of mind. However, as he thought, here was one mystery about to be explained, and that was a comfort. As Jen prophesied, David did not return to dinner, and Maurice had a tête-à-tête with his guardian. But they talked of indifferent things, and it was not until they were once more in the smoking-room with cigars and coffee that the major consented to speak on the subject of Mrs. Dallas' strange conduct. "Yes, but I was wrong; I made a mistake." "Bah! you black parrot!" muttered Maurice scornfully and turned upon his heel. As he vanished down the walk Dido clapped her hands together with great satisfaction and began to sing in low tones. Her song was barbaric in words and strange beyond all telling in the music. It rose and fell, and moaned and drawled, in a curiously painful manner. In the drawing-room Mrs. Dallas had risen to her feet at the first deep contralto note, and now stood rocking herself to and fro with an expression of alarm on her face. Isabella was terrified in her turn by Dido's song and her mother's strange conduct, though by this time she should have been used to these eccentricities..