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"I guess she wouldn't last much longer at this business," she said, smoothing the creases out of the glove fingers. "She's got a pinched look and her cheeks are mighty pink. No, it ain't paint; I asked right out, and she answered just as nice as could be. She seems tired, poor girl, and mortally glad to have some one take an interest. She says the class rooms are so hot, and the change from living in eighty degrees to sixty-five, like it is in her room, has made her downright sick part of the time.",

"But she can't be very far away," said Jen, hopefully. "I saw her in Deanminster, and thought she had gone there with a message from you.",

Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect.,

"He explained how my poor Maurice was killed."

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Doris Leighton's pretty eyes widened. "What in the world do you mean?" she asked with such real interest that Patricia gladly rushed into the tale of the kidnaping of her five-year-old twin brother, and how he had been given up as dead for all the long years until the chance discovery of his identity revealed him to them at the very time when they were most in need of him. She did not dwell on the financial reinforcement that he brought to them, feeling instinctively that the knowledge of their straitened means would lower them in Doris Leighton's estimation, but drew a lively picture of the jolly Christmas party they had had at Greycroft, and the happy future they were looking forward to in their life together.,

"I declare if I ain't a firm believer in fairies after this," she said with frank affection. "There isn't anything prettier nor sweeter in the whole ball, I'll warrant!",

She was brought back to the center of interest by a sharp hiss from a ghost on the edge of the assembly and a muffled cry of "No fair!" from another nearer the stand.,

"And mine, too," said Maurice, hotly. "Isabella is--"