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"One moment, Miss Dallas!" he said, quickly. "Does David know about the theft of the devil-stick? That is," he added more precisely, "does he know that your mother stole it?" Patricia, protesting, dragged herself from the restful nest, but by the time they had begun to arrange the gay little bags of candy in the big red Japanese lantern, she was as enthusiastic as Elinor could wish. A confused recollection of having heard the words and tune sung by my mother when I was at the rocking age myself brought the tears to my eyes as I flew to the window and parted the curtains. If you heard a little boy-angel singing at your casement, wouldn't you expect a cherub face upturned with heaven-lights all over it? Billy's face was upturned as he heard me draw up the blind, but it was streaked like a wild Indian's with decorations of brown mud, and he held a slimy frog in one hand while he wiped his other grimy hand down the front of his linen blouse..
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"Bah! you black parrot!" muttered Maurice scornfully and turned upon his heel. As he vanished down the walk Dido clapped her hands together with great satisfaction and began to sing in low tones. Her song was barbaric in words and strange beyond all telling in the music. It rose and fell, and moaned and drawled, in a curiously painful manner. In the drawing-room Mrs. Dallas had risen to her feet at the first deep contralto note, and now stood rocking herself to and fro with an expression of alarm on her face. Isabella was terrified in her turn by Dido's song and her mother's strange conduct, though by this time she should have been used to these eccentricities. "I am going to ask you to think first and speak last," he began. "I don't want you to go into it hastily or unless you're quite sure you will like it." "Yes. I was ill, as I have said, and my mother was watching by my bedside. Usually it is Dido who does so. I asked my mother about Dido, and she said that Dido had asked permission to go out for the evening." "Why don't you wish to sell it, Uncle Jen?".
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