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"They have shaken mine," retorted Jen, grimly. "But we need not discuss these things, Mrs. Dallas. May I ask why you have paid me this visit?","There isn't any table—" she had begun, still with slight protest in her voice, when Bruce ushered them up the narrow vertical stair to the larger room above where more tables and windows made a cozy dining place for about a dozen people.,"That? Oh, Carol Lawton wrote that for us before she left. She was a corker, I can tell you." A shade flitted over Griffin's face as she settled herself more firmly on the board. "She died last fall, and we've sung that song ever since. Ready now! Let her go!","My shawl will be stunning," rejoiced Elinor. "They've both come to us in the very nick of time. With that old silk skirt of mine, and that worn-out gold-beaded tunic of Aunt Louise's that we found in the closet at Greycroft, we'll be simply dazzling. See if we're not, Patricia Louise Kendall.","I think it is the best thing you can do," said Jen, brusquely. "By the way, what has become of Dido?","I discovered that Mrs. Dallas was the richest woman in the West Indies, that she had one fair and marriageable daughter, and that mother and daughter were under the influence of a negress called Dido, who was a profound believer in the cult of Obi. I determined, therefore, to bend the negress to my will by means of the Voodoo stone, and to marry the daughter. Unfortunately, Mrs. Dallas and her child were in England. So thither I went in order to prosecute my suit, and obtain a rich wife in the person of Miss Isabella Dallas. From information obtained in Barbadoes I found that they were living near Deanminster, so to that town I repaired, and established myself as a physician. I made the acquaintance of yourself, of Mr. Alymer, and Mr. Sarby, and also of Mrs. Dallas and her daughter, the young and charming girl whom I intended to make my wife.,Dido bent forward and touched the tramp on his temples.,"That is enough," interrupted Mrs. Dallas, rising in a cold fury. "I want no further speeches from you. Go to your room, Isabella. Mr. Alymer, your way lies yonder," and with a swift gesture she pointed to the window.,CHAPTER XI THE LITTLE RIFT,The two young men burst out simultaneously with the speech in tones of sheer astonishment, and stared at Etwald as at some strangle animal. That this elderly man--Etwald was midway between thirty and forty, but that looked elderly to these boys of twenty-five--should dare to love Isabella Dallas, was a thing unheard of. She so young, so beautiful, so full of divine youth and diviner womanhood; he so sombre, pale and worn with intellectual vigils; with a mysterious past, a doubtful present and a problematic future.,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.","Yes, it's going some," returned Griffin nonchalantly, as she started up the stair again, dragging the board after her. "The March Hare originated it back in the dark ages, and we've been doing it off and on—when the authorities don't get on to us.".