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"At once," replied Jen, and pointed to the door. Battersea bowed awkwardly to Lady Meg and his benefactor; then he went out of the room and left the major alone with his visitor. But Patricia was too much absorbed to heed. It was hard work later on, when they had to face the inquiries of the wrathful Judith, to convince her that the whole thing was not a plot against Elinor by some envious rival..

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But Patricia was impatiently deaf. "Why doesn't he get on?" she whispered testily. "We know all about the conditions of the prize. What we want to know is—oh, Elinor, I'm horribly disappointed. I was afraid Doris Leighton would get it, but you ought to have had Honorable Mention. Griffin's isn't half so good as yours; she said so herself. Can you see what their canvases are like? I'm just so that the light glares on them for me. What's that he's saying now? He's talking about your study." On the day after the major's dinner party, Isabella was sitting in the veranda with a book open on her lap and Dido standing gravely near her. Mrs. Dallas, in the cool depths of the drawing-room, was indulging in an after-luncheon siesta. The sunlight poured itself over the velvet lawns, drew forth the perfumes from the flower-beds, and made the earth languorous with heat. "He did, sir. Leastways he arsked me to arsk Dido 'bout it." "I don't think so," said he, with conviction. "Why should he kill Maurice?".