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"I'm not joking," I said jerkily; "I am lonely. And worse than being lonely, I'm scared. I ought to have stayed just the quiet relict of Mr. Carter and gone out with Aunt Adeline and let myself be fat and respectable; but I haven't got the character. You thought I went to town to buy a monument, and I didn't; I bought enough clothes for two brides, and now I'm too scared to wear 'em, and I don't know what you'll think when you see my bankbook. Everybody is talking about me and that dinner-party Tuesday night, and Aunt Adeline says she can't live in a house of mourning so desecrated any longer; she's going back to the cottage. Aunt Bettie Pollard says that if I want to get married I ought to marry Mr. Wilson Graves because of his seven children, and then everybody would be so relieved that they are taken care of, that they would forget that Mr. Carter hasn't been dead quite five years yet. Mrs. Johnson says I ought to be declared a minor and put as a ward under you. I can't help judge Wade's sending me flowers and Tom's walking over my front steps every day. I'm not strong enough to carry him away and drown him. I am perfectly miserable and I'm——",
He got no further. Miss Jinny, who had won first place in the interest of the art community as Sinbad and kept it by her own wholesome goodness, was surrounded and overwhelmed. Patricia was the first to seize her unwilling hand.,
"Let's stay here for a minute or two, and then run up to the house before it comes," suggested Patricia, with her chin on the half door of the barn, looking out over the tender landscape and down at the flowers in the unused barnyard far below.,
"No," he said in a firm voice to all three. "I accept. I shall defend Max Etwald."
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"Are you alluding to Dido?" demanded Jen, rather surprised at her tone.,
"Can't be certain, of course, but I have my doubts," replied Griffin, in the same pitch. "I think that I recognized the silvery tones of a fair one who is not too far away from us," and she glanced significantly across the table to where Doris Leighton sat with the candle-light shining in her bright hair and a little smile curving her pink lips.,
"That's just what I'm thinking about, Tom," I said with a smile that was as sweet as I could make it, "and as she came with messages to me from one of my best old friends I think I ought to do something to make her have a good time. I was just planning a gorgeous dinner-party I want to have for her when you came so suddenly. Do you think we could arrange it for Tuesday evening?",
"I should not think from your description that she was likely to attract Maurice," said Lady Meg, in a low voice; "but undoubtedly he loved her dearly; and I--" She made a gesture of despair and moved toward the door. On the threshold she paused and held out her hand. "Good-by, major; should I hear anything further I shall let you know. But the tramp?"
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At first he thought of going into Deanminster for the purpose of speaking with Inspector Arkel about the discovery of the devil-stick; but upon reflection he deemed it wiser not to do so, at all events for the present. Arkel could come only to the same conclusion as himself--namely, that Battersea, innocent of the crime, had picked up the devil-stick on the grounds of Mrs. Dallas. Regarding his suspicions of Etwald, the major determined to keep these to himself until he was in a position to prove them; for if Etwald were guilty, the slightest hint that the police were on his track would be sufficient to put him on his guard. Against so clever a man as the doctor, Arkel, with his clumsy methods, could do nothing. For the present, therefore, Jen decided to hold his tongue.
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Patricia smiled and opened her lips, but the words died away, as Bruce, now with a gayety that bespoke a different sort of announcement, mounted the model stand in the middle of the room, and rapped loudly for attention. Miss Jinny had vainly tried to grab his sleeve as he slipped past her and now stood with an expression of grim martyrdom glaring at Mr. Spicer, who was smiling at her openly and, Patricia thought, heartlessly.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>And there I sat in my front room, being embraced in a perfume of everybody's lilacs and hawthorns and affectionate interest and moonlight, with a letter in my hand from the man whose two photographs and letters I used to keep locked up in my desk. Is it any wonder I tingled when he told me that he had never come back because he couldn't have me, and that now the minute he landed in England he was going to lay his heart at my feet? I added his colonial honours to his prostrate heart myself, and my own beat at the prospect. All the eight years faded away, and I was again back in the old garden down at Aunt Adeline's cottage saying good-bye, folded up in his arms. That's the way my memory put the scene to me, but the word "folded" made me remember that blue muslin dress again. I had promised to keep it and wear it for him when he came back—and I couldn't forget that the blue belt was just twenty-three inches and mine is—no, I won't write it. I had got that dress out of the old trunk not ten minutes after I had read the letter and measured it.
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