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The next afternoon when Elinor, completely restored after a day's rest, took out her drawing-board and began to work, Patricia brought out her own study for a final criticism before laboriously lugging it up to the Academy. But Patricia shrank from appearing too magnanimous. 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..
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Conrad
"Ain't it too late, sir?" "Oh, do let's stay till it's all done," she urged, but Bruce and Elinor were adamant. "Dido--the negress, of Mrs. Dallas!" "Verses, too!" cried Margaret Howes. "Verses on every one of them. Read them aloud, everybody in turn. Hurry up and get them all together.".
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