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"Like a charm to keep off ghosts," laughed Patricia. "Perhaps we ought to cross our fingers, Ju, when we remember to. That might help, too." "I have a postscript to add," smiled Bruce. "Sometimes, as you know, the postscript is of great importance." "Ah! poor Maurice always mistrusted that negress!".
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Miriam Halden, Mr. Hilton, Griffin, Margaret Howes, Herbert Lester and David—officially known as Francis Edward, but particularly recognized by his twin as Frad—all sat at the same rose-decked table with Patricia, and, as Griffin put it, they made the other tables look "like thirty cents in pennies." The candle light sparkled on laughing eyes and white teeth, and ripples of merriment enlivened every mouthful of the savory dishes that Dufranne's dignified François, aided by the radiant Henry, served continuously. Elinor jumped up laughing, and hugged her. "I'll be as conceited as you like, if you'll stop scolding," she promised, gayly. "It doesn't look well to be too much under the thumb of a younger sister, even if she is a promising sculptor. By the way, how are you getting on? I hear that Miss Griffin is a wonderful worker. Did you see anything of her work?" Arkel looked up sharply. Griffin yawned elaborately and then addressed Margaret Howes with lifted eyebrows..
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