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"Put him down now, Mrs. Molly, and come and say other how-do-you-does," he called softly. Elinor laid down her brush impressively. "Don't ask me. Uncle Jen; I can't answer you yet.".
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Outside, the peaceful landscape was filled with a warm amber light, and this poured into the oak-paneled dining-room through three French windows which opened onto a close-shaven lawn. Dinner was at an end; Jaggard, the major's valet, butler and general factotum, had placed the wines before his master, and was now handing around cigars and cigarettes. All being concluded to his satisfaction--no easy attainment, for Jaggard, trained in military fashion, was very precise--he departed, closing the door after him. The warm light of the evening flashed on the polished table--Major Jen was sufficiently old-fashioned to have the cloth removed for desert--and lighted up the four faces around it with pale splendor. This quartette of countenances is not unworthy of a detailed description. "Oh, do tell me all about it," she pleaded, and Bruce, with his customary good nature, launched into a very diverting account of the habits and customs of the Flemings and the year spent among them in his student days. "Hope not," retorted Bruce amiably. "Now as to Elinor." He stopped for so many rings that Judith stirred and cleared her throat impatiently, whereon he grinned cheerfully at her and went on. "As to Elinor. She will keep on with the night life, but the rest of her time will be spent in the studio here, working on studies and cartoons for a big wall decoration for a church, and a stained glass window for the same church—a purely mythical one, my dear Dragon, but intended to develop our promising student more rapidly than the easygoing method of the schools. What do you say to the program, young ladies?" "Shouldn't think she'd be strong enough for housework," said Patricia, puckering her brow. "Mrs. Hand wants a 'lady houseworker,' but I don't believe she'd have an ex-model. She's so awfully particular, you know.".
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