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They continued to watch the pair, and saw Dido throw herself at the feet of Etwald, who raised his hand over her in a threatening manner. He pointed into the wood with an imperious gesture, and in a slinking attitude the usually stately Dido passed out of sight into the little path down which Isabella had come to meet Maurice. When the gleam of her red dress disappeared Etwald wiped his face and walked briskly up the avenue toward the young couple.,

"It's a long story," returned Maurice, lighting a fresh cigar. "Look here, Uncle Jen, I went to dress at half-past six; you did also. When we left the devil-stick was in the room on the wall. Now we are here again at half-past eight, the devil-stick is gone. In these two hours Dido has had time to cross the lawn yonder and steal it.",

The waiter bowed as he folded the coat carefully.,

"It's all right, so long as it's in a book, eh?" he asked. "What a perfect little chameleon you are, Judy Kendall. I don't know whether to take you into the grand surprise that I'm going to spring on these two young ladies, or leave you at the nearest library while I disclose my dark projects. What do you say, Elinor?"

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"I thought as much," said Jen, in an excited tone. Then after a pause, he added: "Battersea, would you like free quarters and plenty of food and drink for a week?",

"By that devil-stick poison?",

"I can't answer that question either," said the doctor, taking up his hat. "A detective may be able to assist you on those points. Engage one.",

Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect.