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"Yes, Mr. Alymer. Must! Must! Must! If you want an explanation of that you can ask--" Here Mrs. Dallas paused with a strange smile and added slowly: "Major Jen." "Only this, that he has gone up to town without bidding me good-by, save in this short note. I can't understand such conduct." "The devil-stick!" gasped Jen, pointing a shaking finger at the wall. "The devil-stick!".

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"She's rattled for fear she won't take the prize as usual," she said, gayly. "I bet she opens her eyes when she sees yours, Norn. Hers may be lots better done, but it simply can't be as lovely and as different." Another light was let in on Jen's mind. Here was the handkerchief again--perfumed with the devil-stick decoction of poison by Dido, applied by the hand of Etwald, and its design was evidently to keep Jaggard in a state of stupor and prevent him from, making dangerous disclosures. Dido and Etwald once more in partnership. Jen was more convinced than ever that the pair were at the bottom of the whole terrible affair. Judith flushed and tossed her mane with a gratified air. "Oh, they don't think much of me," she rejoined. "They make fun of me lots of times." Then, suddenly as it had come, the storm passed, trailing dark, yellow-gray, ragged clouds in its wake. The light came back and the awed girls at the little window saw below them in the emerald meadows, wide ugly yellow splotches that grew as they looked, meeting other growing patches of swirling yellow water from the lanes and roads. Trees showed fresh wounds and masses of broken branches clotted the discolored waters of the brook. Birds called excitedly and flew exultantly about in the limpid air. The sun flung gay greens and golds. The storm was past..