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Elinor hesitated. "I don't know," she replied slowly, measuring her words. "I can't put my finger on it, but she doesn't seem the same to me as she did at first. She isn't jealous of my poor work, of course, but I can feel a something—a wall or barrier—that she raises up between us whenever my work is spoken of. I felt it when we talked about the subject of the prize designs, and I felt it today more clearly than ever. We can't be friends any more as we were, I'm afraid. Something has come between us. 'The little rift within the lute,'" she quoted sorrowfully., "I think it's in the basement," said Elinor dubiously, "but I don't believe we can buy things there. We'd have to go out, anyway, I'm afraid.", "Well, major," said Mrs. Dallas, after the first greetings were over, "what did that wicked man say to you yesterday?".