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Settled in their places—they already had their own selected places in the ingle nook—with Mrs. Shelly rocking contentedly in the center of the half circle and Bruce smoking in the deep armchair, they grew enthusiastic again over the delightful prospect of the month that Bruce outlined for them. Elinor glanced beyond, through the low doorway to the next room. "Yes. I--I--I do love Miss Dallas.".

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"Yes, you do, too!" cried Judith ardently, flinging out a masterpiece. "You sound like a syncopated opera; doesn't she, Bruce?" "Which is, to marry Mr. David Sarby," said Etwald coolly. "In that case I can only hope that the young lady will continue obstinate, as I wish to marry her myself." That settled it—I couldn't let a visiting girl be worn out with attention. Of course, I had planned to make a dignified debut under my own roof, backed up by the presence of ancestral and marital rosewood, silver and mahogany, as a widow should; but duty called me to de-weed myself amidst the informality of an impromptu soirée at the little town hotel. And in the fifteen minutes Tom gave me I de-weeded to some purpose and flowered out to still more. I never do anything by halves. CHAPTER XVII. THE STORY OF THE NIGHT..