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"Did he know that it was Alymer's corpse?" interrupted Jen, sharply. Dinner was long over, Judith's lessons done and bed-time come, when at last Patricia hurried down to the long parlor where Doris sat in the dim light. Elinor dropped on a stool and raised her face to her sister, and Patricia was surprised to see that her eyes were shining with joy instead of tears..

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"It's all ship-shape now," whispered Patricia as they scrambled down from the stools whereon they had perched to accomplish their purpose. "Aren't we in luck? Not a soul even saw us come in." 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. "From whom?" "Delightful indeed! But Alfred Bennett is a man of sense not to marry any of the string of women who I suppose are running after him!" she said. Miss Clinton looked at her in a mild kind of wonder, but she went on hacking Mr. Johnson's coat-sleeve with the needle without noticing the glance at all..