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"Why?",
But Miss Jinny was not to be diverted into talk again, and as she started out of the studio the bell came to her aid, buzzing shrilly an insistent summons to the door.,
"Molly," he asked, this time with a heaven-laugh, "where could you be more effectually hid from Alfred Bennett than in my arms?",
"I can guess what she said," interrupted Jen, hastily. "No more of this till after dinner, my dear lad. Then I'll explain all."
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David retired early to bed, as he was quite worn out with the anxieties of the day; but Jen was too grieved to sleep. He remained in the library, thinking over his great loss and wondering what wretch could have taken that young life. Toward twelve o'clock he went to the kitchen and had a short conversation with the policeman, who was a stupid, bucolic youth with no more brains than a pumpkin. Afterward he sought the chamber of death to see that Jaggard was not sleeping at his post. Finally, like the good old soldier he was, Jen went round the house to satisfy himself that the windows and doors were bolted and barred. All these things done, he returned to the library.,
However, fortune favored him, and to state the truth, fortune rather astonished him; for upon arriving within the grounds of Mrs. Dallas, the major met with Isabella herself. In a light-colored dress, with sunshade and straw hat, she was strolling down the walk which led to the gate. On coming up with Jen, he was surprised to see that her manner was calm and collected; in all respects different from that displayed during the frenzy of the midnight visit. He could hardly believe that she was the same girl.,
"But," she protested, raising herself on one elbow. "It wasn't true, what Mr. Benton said about your design. Why don't you tell him so, Elinor?",
"That's so," admitted Patricia readily. "You always hit the nail on the head, old lady. Now I must run. See you later," and closing the door behind her, she ran down the steps and hurried off through the tingling morning air, with her parcel tight under her arm and a kindling light on her mobile face.
"He's a Russian refugee," she said, triumphantly, and as she quickly covered her work again, and they passed out through the little side entrance, she told them the tragic scrap of the model's history that had sifted through the gossip of the work room.
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Patricia drew a deep breath.
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"Melba in disguise?" mocked Elinor gayly.
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"Where is the devil-stick?" demanded Jen, wrathfully.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>They started off, leaving Tom Hughes and Elinor to follow, and Judith, as she cast a searching backward glance at David's chum, whispered to Patricia that he must be very nice and sociable for he seemed just as much at home with Elinor as if she'd been another boy.
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