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"I do love her," cried David, vehemently. "I have always loved her, and shall continue to do so until the day of my death. All the same, I shall never become her husband." "It is now some months since I wrote you, making certain inquiries, yet you have not been courteous enough to gratify my curiosity. That is cruel of you! Miss Dallas is now Mrs. Sarby, the other lady is now Lady Meg Alymer; yet you will not tell me how this strange transfer of wives came about. Never mind, I am sure the explanation I fancied in my last letter is the correct one. But you are a rude correspondent. Fie, major. Fie! Fie! Fie! Patricia, who denounced recklessness in others, flew to meet him with loud reproaches, regardless of the thronging crowd of undergraduates that were nimbly springing off after him..
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She followed them into the dressing room with her eyes busy but without a single word, and it was not until they had taken her through the various class rooms, deserted at this noon hour, and were on their way down to the lunch room that she found speech. Elinor nodded, picking up her letter again. "You don't seem at all keen about David," she began, when Judith broke out excitedly, holding up her letter. "Here?" "Time's up!" cried Patricia, jumping up. "Be on hand at the next rest, angel child. Come in the clay room 'immejit' the gong rings," and she hurried off, humming a gay little song..
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