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"You certainly are the limit," she said, gravely. "What makes you care so much about words and names and such like things?" she asked, trying to get at a clearer understanding of her little sister's mental processes. "Because I overheard his apology to my mother for having put her handkerchief to such use," replied Isabella, with suspicious promptitude. "Yis. Dat so," said Dido, with pretended surprise, turning on him sharply. "But you no b'lieve in Obi, massa. What you know of de wand of sleep--de debble-stick?".
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"You found this rich match here," resumed Jen, without noticing the interruption, "in the person of Miss Dallas, already engaged to the late Mr. Alymer." "One of her lies," said Isabella, vehemently. "I did not know she had gone to your house until the servant told me. Then when I remembered how the devil-stick had been stolen I was afraid lest Dido should be contriving further mischief. Although it was late I could not rest in my bed. I tossed and turned with my brain burning with the fever. I felt that I must learn what was taking place at your house. My mother left me about two o'clock in the morning quite worn out with her watching. Then I rose, put on a dressing-gown, and escaped by the window. I reached your library at three o'clock. You know the rest." "And also loved by Mr. Sarby," said the doctor, coolly. "Then Dr. Etwald--that horrid, gloomy creature!".
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