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Patricia was silent, weighing this suggestion. They both broke into negation at once as they reached their own front door. Patricia and Elinor swept a swift, remembering glance at the pale, eager face, and the memory of that scene in the old bookroom at Greycroft, when Judith had the vision of her future, flashed into each mind. They had had no laughter then for Judith's prophecy of her literary career, and so now they had only instant sympathy with their little sister's enthusiasm. "Well, let me take you home through the garden then—and, yes, I believe I'll stay to supper with Mrs. Henderson. Don't you want to tell me what a little girl like you did in a big city, and—and read me part of that Paris letter I saw the postman give Jane this afternoon?".

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"I do, however," muttered Jen, divining that Dido had taken the usual route back to "The Wigwam." "Why, it's all ready," cried Patricia wondering at her changed manner. "We put the sliced lemon on the very last thing." "Yes, Dido is wrong," he said. "I always thought that black witch was at the bottom of everything. I am sure of it now." Patricia interrupted her hotly. "I won't waste another hour on them!" she declared vehemently. "I've slaved and slaved all my spare time, I missed the last of Miss Jinny's visit, and I didn't have time to hear a word of Judy's tales about Greycroft and the village, and I haven't taken a moment to myself this whole week! I've done with it now for good and all. I was an idiot to think I could do anything, anyway.".