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"So I hear; and he is in town, as Mr. Alymer told me to-night. But what are you going to do about the matter, major?" Patricia drummed on the railing. "She was well enough," she admitted grudgingly. "But after I had modeled those figures and tried to get something appropriate for each one—and it was hard to get the candy into the inside of them, too, without spoiling it—they go and accept them as though they were a cup of afternoon tea. I thought they'd show more spirit. Don't talk to me about artists being gay and Bohemian after this." "Oh, Miss Pat!" she cried in an ecstasy. "I've made good, and I can write to Bruce and tell him!".
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"Molly," he said in the most nonchalant manner imaginable, "we've got a jolly, strolling, German band up at the hotel; and we're going to have an evening's gaiety. Get into a pretty dress, and don't keep me waiting." "Poor thing, she's done it at last!" cried Patricia compassionately. "Then what happened?" There was a silence that made the next question come with more insulting force, while Patricia again wondered why Elinor did not seize this moment for her broadside of bonbons. So, as there was no other key, Patricia put her finger to the bell on the lintel and kept it there till the knob rattled and the door was flung open wide. Judith was standing in the middle of the big, comfortable studio and her face was flushed, but not one word did she say in explanation of her singular behavior..
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