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Doris Leighton's lashes drooped till her eyes were a narrow line of inscrutable blue. "Nonsense! She likes Maurice herself," replied Isabella, uneasily. "Maurice wants our engagement kept quiet for the present, but when I do tell Major Jen and my mother, I am sure neither of them will object." "I know he is," replied the girl, quietly. "But, of course, I could never be his wife; the more so, as I fear him. But Dido wishes me to marry him.".
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"We must question your servant," said Arkel, having noted the major's answers in his pocket-book. "He was stunned, I believe?" Dr. Etwald went home with this sum running in his head, and more than ever he resolved to marry Isabella. He was in love with her, and would have taken her without a penny; but all the same, if she was an heiress in a small way, it was all the better. The doctor was clever but poor, and with an income like that he could move to London and do great things. There were many schemes in Etwald's head, and certain of these he determined to put into execution at once, in order to secure Isabella to wife. "'An Arabian Nights Entertainment,'" read Patricia, mumbling in her haste. "'No guests admitted unless in costume' … m-m-m-m … 'The Sultan Haroun-al-Raschid' … Oh, I see! We can rig up in anything we choose,—so that it looks sort of Turkish. Dee-licious! I know what to do with my rose-colored cloak right now!" "Who lighted the lamp?" demanded Jen, sharply..
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