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Jen bent his head gravely. "I'm not so sure of that," retorted Maurice; "I love Isabella, and come what may I intend to make her my wife." Elinor smiled assent, and Miss Jinny went on..
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He bent down to replace the bedclothes which the sick man had thrown off, and as he did so, a faint perfume, sickly and rich, struck his nostrils. It seemed to come from the bandages at the back of the head, and on bending down for a closer inspection, Jen saw that one of these--it was the merest corner which peeped out--was of finer linen than the rest. The fabric was cambric, and with a start which made the blood turn to ice in his veins, Jen realized that it was a woman's handkerchief--its delicacy and border-embroideries assured him of this. "How mean!" cried Patricia spiritedly. "Bruce hasn't even seen that study. What did he say about it?" "She has fled." "Are you alluding to Dido?" demanded Jen, rather surprised at her tone..
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