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Patricia gazed approvingly at the dim, shadowy study of graceful figures grouped in attentive attitudes about a reader in a landscape of suggested loveliness that spoke to any observer with delicate symbolism. "There can be only one explanation," he muttered. "David is mad." "No. He found the devil-stick within the grounds of Mrs. Dallas, near the gates.".

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"No, not Dr. Etwald, but the person who stole the devil-stick." Patricia hesitated. "But perhaps you'd rather have an easier costume,—Aladdin's mother, or——" Her eyes sought the pale pure outline of Elinor's profile, caught between the intervening faces, and held it during the brief explanatory speech, wherein Mr. Benton paid his tribute to Elinor's generous silence, and apologized in the name of the Board for the unjust accusation. She saw the wave of color sweep over it at the commendatory words, and the dark eyes fall under the shame of the hinted treachery of the unnamed student whose face was in every one's mind. Then at the next words she saw the light flash into full radiance, as Mr. Benton, with something in his extended hand, turned full toward Elinor where she sat. "What possible reason have you to make such an accusation?" he demanded..