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Elinor followed with Mr. Grantly, and Miss Jinny came next with Mr. Spicer, who was very ceremonial and splendid in new clothes of the latest pattern. Patricia thought he looked particularly radiant, and wondered how he could be so glad to say good-bye. She was about to whisper to Tom Hughes, who was next in the merry jumble that followed the first three precise couples, when there was a tremendous rapping at the studio door, and Hannah Ann in her treasured new hat rushed from Miss Jinny's room, where she had been in ambush, to the besieged portal.,

"You make one slight mistake, sir," said Jen, coldly. "I accuse you of two crimes, not of three.",

At first he read and smoked, then he paced up and down, thinking of his dead lad, and finally, as the hands of the clock drew to midnight, he threw himself into a chair, and worn out in body and in mind, the old man slept profoundly. Hour after hour passed in silence; the moon set and the night grew darker, as the wind rose and moaned through the woods round the house. Save the muttering of the breeze and the ticking of the clock not a sound was to be heard in that silent room wherein Jen slept heavily.,

"To my cost, major; but he did not love me. This girl--this Miss Dallas," she added in a faltering voice, "she must be very lovely, for Mr. Sarby loves her also. A woman who has three men at her feet must be wonderful."

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"Oh, let me stay," urged Patricia. "You can read out loud, and I'll slip in bed here to keep warm. What part are you reading now?",

"That's Griffin; I know her ring!" cried Patricia jumping up. "I'll go.",

"Relatives, perhaps," hazarded Patricia, reveling in Elinor's conversion. "I hope we get to know her soon, don't you, Norn? She must be awfully popular. See how they all turn when she passes. I'm sorry she's going, though, for I could simply feast my eyes on her for hours.",

He started at the beginning of everything, that is at the beginning of the tuberculosis girl, and I cried over the pages of her as if she had been my own sister. At the tenth page we buried her and took up Alfred, and I must say I saw a new Alfred in the judge's bouquet-strewn appreciation of him, but I didn't want him as bad as I had the day before, when I read his own new and old letters, and cried over his old photographs. I suppose that was the result of some of what the judge manages the juries with. He'd be apt to use it on a woman, and she wouldn't find out about it until it was too late to be anything but mad. Still when he began on me at page sixteen I felt a little better, though I didn't know myself any better than I did Alfred when I got to page twenty.