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"What!" cried Jen, interrupting sharply. "Did Dr. Etwald know about it also?" Patricia rolled her eyes in mock agony. "What does all this mean?" asked Meg, quite surprised at Jen's excitement..

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"Oh, Miss Pat!" she cried in an ecstasy. "I've made good, and I can write to Bruce and tell him!" Dr. Etwald approached, with what was meant for a smile on his usually sombre face, and took off his hat to Miss Dallas. But he did not speak as he made his salutation, so the girl was forced, by reason of this uncomfortable silence, to make the first observation. The girl was about twenty years of age, tall and straight, with dark hair and darker eyes, with a mouth veritably like Cupid's bow, and a figure matchless in contour. With her rich southern coloring and passionate temperament--she was of Irish blood on the paternal side--Miss Dallas looked more like an Andalusian lady than a native of the English-speaking race. She had all the sensuous loveliness of a Creole woman; and bloomed like a rich tropical flower with poison in its perfume amid the English briar roses of Surrey maidenhood. "Good-morning, doctor," she said, as he replaced his hat; "I suppose you have come to see my mother.".