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"Ho! ho!" murmured Maurice, rather taken back. "So the art of devil-raising is not a lost one after all. Dido can still call spirits from the vasty deep." CHAPTER VIII SMOOTH WATERS "Ah!" murmured Mrs. Dallas, casting a haggard look around. "All is lost.".

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"I saw nothing," said David, wearily. "God knows what has become of the body!" That night, after Miss Jinny's trunk had finally been disposed of, and all the gossip of Rockham village and outskirts had been thoroughly aired, and Miss Jinny, tired from her strenuous day, had gone thankfully to bed, Patricia and Elinor were talking over the day's happenings as they brushed their hair in the seclusion of their own room. "I reckon most of the nippiness in this tale is Nero's work—not mine," she said, smoothing the long folds of gray lansdown into shape with absent fingers. "You see, it was this way. Old Miss Fell, who lives in that big red brick house——" "I shall help you also," she said sadly. "That is, if you will accept of my help.".