"What do you think of the artists now?" asked Patricia, leaning back in the carriage as they were being whirled homeward. "Are they such serious people as you thought them, Norn?",
"Don't keep me hanging on here in the dark too long," protested Patricia. "I'm worn to a bone already.",
He paused, waiting for his ward to make some reply in defense of his conduct. The young man neither moved nor spoke, but, paler than usual, he stood before the major with his eyes on the ground. More in sorrow than in anger, Jen looked at him, then turned on his heel with a shrug, and walked into the house. David looked after him with quivering lips..
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