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"Ask her to explain that, my dear lad." "No, no!" said Jen, hastily. "Do not bring any one here as yet, David. We must think of this poor girl. Take her home at once. When you are both out of the house I shall give the alarm. You understand--no one must know that Miss Dallas has been in my house at this hour." "She used to be," was Judith's frank reply. "But since you've become an artist, like Aunt Louise, she fairly adores you!".
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"We-e-ll," she said, slowly revolving so as to see each hall in turn. "I'll take the one just ahead there. It hasn't any card on the door and all the others have." Patricia held Judith close, with her own heart beating tumultuously to the rhythm of the storm. Hard rattling drops castinetted at the glass, beating an accompaniment to the roar of the racing clouds. For a moment all was black, then, as the whirling cloud masses swept apart, the pelting drops lulled and a gray twilight full of ominous murmurs filled the place. Before Patricia could frame the swift thought that the storm was passing, darkness swept over them again, and the fierce scream of the relentless wind tore at the corners of the barn. The rain beat, deluged, engulfed the out-of-doors; it drummed gayly with diminishing ferocity; then it roared sullenly, flooding the rain spouts to bursting; it raged again, with the scream of the wind growing higher, and snapping branches flung themselves past the gray squares of the windows, flying leaves pasted wet green blurs on the streaming glass. Judith shuddered. "I'll sing just one more, and then I'll have to stop," she said with eager brightness. "My voice isn't strong enough to do much, you know, though I'm awfully glad you like the songs." "She want you to-day," insisted Dido, obstinately..
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