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"But she denied knowledge of the devil-stick.",

It had a surprise in it, and I sat back on the grass and read it with my heart beating like a hammer. He was leaving Paris the day he had posted it, and he was due to arrive in London almost as soon as it did, just any hour now I calculated in a flash. And "from London immediately to Hillsboro" he had written in words that fairly sung themselves off the paper. I was frightened—so frightened that the letter shook in my hands, and with only the thought of being sure that I might be alone for a few minutes with it, I fled to the garret.,

"Well, Ju was studying hard and not merely posing," returned Patricia seriously. "Somehow it gets into the work. There isn't anything that tells the truth so straight as our sort of work, Norn. You simply can't fake. Judy deserves part of the credit. And then, I liked it so, I couldn't help getting on with it. It's so fearfully jolly to a producer.",

"Isn't it lucky?" cried Patricia radiantly. "You'll see about it right away, won't you, Elinor? It has a splendid view of the park. I know she'll love that. You know how she hates 'bricks and mortar.'"

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"Undoubtedly he believes that Mrs. Dallas killed Maurice," thought Jen, "and that is why he refuses to confess to me. He said that I would be the first to blame him for telling all he knew, and as he is under the delusion that Mrs. Dallas is guilty, I understand now the reason of his silence. Also he said that he would never marry Isabella; which shows that he is afraid of becoming the husband of a woman whose mother has committed a crime. Poor boy, how he must suffer; and after all I must say that I approve of his honorable silence. But!" added the major to himself, "when he knows that Mrs. Dallas is innocent and that Etwald is guilty, he will then be able to marry Isabella!",

Suddenly a match flared and the twinkling tip of light grew at a candle end and she saw a ghostly figure, its white hand busy with the candle wick and its hollow, black eyes fixed on the tiny growing flame. Instantly other matches flickered and more candles glimmered in ghostly fingers, until the room was flashing with tiny points of light, while the masses of heavy shadow trembled and surged about an array of white-clad, mysterious, skull-faced figures that slowly formed in line and, two by two, moved to the center of the room, chanting a low, monotonous song as they walked in solemn procession.,

"Patricia, he'll hear you!" gasped the scandalized Judith.,

Maurice flushed crimson, and, resenting the mocking tone of Etwald, half rose from his seat; but without moving a finger, Etwald continued in a cold tone: