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"I think it is the best thing you can do," said Jen, brusquely. "By the way, what has become of Dido?",

"I can't help it," I gulped in my sleeve. "I did use to like Alfred Bennett. My heart almost broke when he went away. I used to be beautiful and slim, and now I feel as if my own fat ghost has come to haunt me all my life. I am so ashamed! If a woman can't cry over her own dead beauty, what can she cry over?" By this time I was really crying.,

"I merely raised my voice above the general clamor," Griffin went on with an icy stare towards her hidden critic, "to suggest that we show our appreciation of the delightful entertainment Miss Kendall has so thoughtfully provided us by giving her the Night Life Song, or the Academy Howl, whichever she prefers." She bowed to Elinor with exaggerated politeness. "Which shall it be, Miss Kendall? Each is equally diverting, but the Howl has the merit of greater brevity. No extra charge for the choice, you know, so speak up and name it.",

"Let us hope he will," replied Lady Meg, and after shaking hands again with Jen, she took her departure.

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Without glancing toward the house Isabella ran down a secluded path which led through a kind of shrubbery to the flower-garden, and then disappeared into a light cane summer-house, constructed in the Chinese fashion, and which was overgrown with greenery. Major Jen followed her as rapidly as his more mature age would permit him; and as he hastened, he felt a wild thrill of delight that at last he was about to hear the truth. That it should be told to him by so unexpected a person as Isabella Dallas, was not the least strange part of this strange affair.,

"I agree with you!" remarked the major, sharply. "A man might make a jest of these horrors--as you are doing.",

"Knowing that I collected curiosities, he came to sell it to me.",

So I hurried and stuffed the grey-blue darling in the top tray, lapped the old black silk around my waist and belted it in with a black belt off a new green linen I had bought for morning walks—down to the butcher's in the High Street, I suppose. That is about the only morning dissipation in Hillsboro that I can think of, and it all depends on whom you meet, how much of a dissipation it is.