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"Rain," said Jen, drawing back, "All the better; there will be no spies about, and you can take Miss Dallas home without being observed." CHAPTER XX. A STRANGE REQUEST. "You are wrong. I had one, and it was stolen by--".

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Patricia's face grew wistful. "She went away when I was so little," she murmured absently. "Sometimes I do fancy that I can recall how she looked as she kissed me good-bye in the big station, but it must be only fancy—one doesn't remember much at two years old. I can see just how Judy looked though, when they brought her home after mother died, and I was only three and a half then." Patricia and Elinor swept a swift, remembering glance at the pale, eager face, and the memory of that scene in the old bookroom at Greycroft, when Judith had the vision of her future, flashed into each mind. They had had no laughter then for Judith's prophecy of her literary career, and so now they had only instant sympathy with their little sister's enthusiasm. "Also, Miss Dallas must have had a horror of seeing constantly before her the man whom--innocently enough--she tried to kill. Hence her refusal to marry your dear Maurice. Am I wrong in these ideas? I think not. Still I should like an explanation from you. As I shall be here for some months--searching for the Voodoo stone and Dido--please send your letter to Barbadoes, directed to your anxious inquirer, Max Etwald." "I see," acknowledged Judith, sweeping the ringleaders with her sharp scrutiny. "They're all simply stunned, but they're mighty glad, too. They're going to give the Academy Howl. Oh, Patricia, I wish I could howl, too!".