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CHAPTER XXII. FOR THE DEFENSE.,

Patricia lifted her brows, perplexed and inquiring, and then dropped them with a shrug that seemed to indicate that the matter no longer interested her.,

Elinor merely stirred and mumbled something indistinct, much to the contrite Patricia's relief.,

"Don't tell me," she said abruptly. "You ought to be dancing instead of wasting your time on old ladies like me." Here there was a burst of mirth at the incongruity of the words with Miss Jinny's ferocious masculine aspect, but she silenced it with a wave of her hookah stem. "Let me introduce the Second Calendar, who I hope knows enough respectable young men here to see that you aren't a wall flower."

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"Mean? Death without the addition of life. That word was brought in solely to render the prophecy--if it may be called so--confusing. Etwald was in love with Miss Dallas. He found in Maurice a formidable rival. He warned him by his pretended prophecy that he should slay him if he persisted standing in his path. Maurice announced his engagement upon the very day when Etwald, the designing scoundrel, went to pay his addresses to the girl. From that moment he doomed Maurice to death. Yes, I truly believe that such was his design, and that he offered to buy the devil-stick in order to carry out his criminal intention.",

"You are cruel, cruel, John Moore, and I hate you worse than I ever did before, if that is possible. I'm hungry, hungry to death, and now you've spoiled it all! Go away before I wet this nice crisp bread and jam with tears, and turn it into a pulp I'll have to eat with a spoon. You don't know what it is to want something sweet so bad you are willing to steal it—from yourself!" I fairly blazed my eyes down into his, and moved as far away from him as the table would let me.,

"Where is the body, you wretch?",

Patricia studied her with eager interest. The bride of half a year was still a bride to her, and the transformation of the limp, bedraggled art student into this languid, elegant young lady was an affair that had its beginnings at Greycroft, for it was under that hospitable roof that Mr. Bingham had first seen Miss Auborn. In the merry Babel of the studio party Mrs. Bingham held her own with a calm assurance that Miss Auborn had not possessed, and when Mr. Bingham, pink and smiling as ever and just a bit more bald, joined them, the air of mild authority with which she welcomed that gentleman impressed Patricia even more strongly.