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"Yes," assented the major, with a nod, "and I know that, as you imagined. Dido was up to some mischief. She stole the body with Etwald; but why? why?" muttered Jen, in perplexed tones. I'll never forget my first real party. I was bridesmaid for Caroline Evans, when she married a Birmingham magnate, from which Hillsboro has never yet recovered. It was the week before the wedding. I was sixteen, felt dreadfully unclothed without a tucker in my dress, and saw Alfred for the first time in evening clothes—his first. I can hardly stand thinking about how he looked even now. I haven't been to very many parties in my life, but from this time on I mean to indulge in them often. Candle-light, pretty women's frocks, black coat sleeves, cut glass and flowers are good ingredients for a joy-drink, and why not? "Well, well, dearie, I don't know about that," said Aunt Bettie as she fanned and rocked her great, big, darling, fat self in the strong rocking-chair I always kept for her. "Alfred is not old enough to have proved himself entirely, and from what I hear——" she paused with the big hearty smile that she always wears when she begins to tease or match-make, and she does them both most of her time..
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Conrad
"Why?" asked Jen, with military brevity. "Yes, I read the report of the inquest, and I have heard rumors. I agree with you, major, that Mr. Alymer was killed by the poison of the devil-stick. Go on." "Pa-tri-cia!" ejaculated Judith in prim rebuke, but Bruce gave her hand a restraining squeeze, and Patricia went on, glowing with earnestness. Patricia gave a gasp. "But he wore a turban and great whiskers!" she said, impulsively. "How in the world could you stand that?".
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