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"Mother!" cried Isabella, with a pale face.,

"No. When I was a child I did, and I fancy that my mother also had some belief in it. Brought up among the negroes of Barbadoes both she and I imbibed the superstitions of the black race; but now we have no faith in such follies. For my part," added the girl, anxiously, "I should be glad to get rid of Dido, seeing that with Dr. Etwald and his malignant influence of the Voodoo stone, she is dragging us toward disgrace; but my mother still clings to her as an old servant, and will not let her go.",

"Battersea!" repeated the doctor, and for the first time he frowned.,

"Why?"

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Elinor and Patricia were so occupied with the room that she almost escaped reproof, but Patricia, as she turned from admiring the stairway that wound up one side of the studio to a nook in the peaked roof above, caught a very knowing look on her little sister's face which was meant for Bruce, and she pounced on her immediately.,

Fortunately he was not forced to sorrow alone; toward midday David arrived from town, filled with grief and surprise at the untimely end of Maurice. He found the major in the library, and grasped him by the hand with genuine sorrow.,

"We didn't many of us tell, you know," returned Elinor absently, with her eyes on Morgiana meekly following her master with the basket of fruit which was to be such a feature in her triumphant dance after the robbers had been boiled alive in their own panniers. "There's Margaret Howes. Isn't she lovely in that pomegranate and gold? What queer slippers she has—just like the ballet dancers. And there's Ali Baba with the forty thieves, all the portrait class men in a bunch.",

Miss Jinny had been quietly removing her outer coverings and as Griffin spoke she dropped her last concealing wrap, and stepped out in turban and embroidered jacket, vermillion girdle and wide, baggy blue trousers whose voluminous folds almost hid the vermillion and gold tips of her curling slippers. A simitar was thrust fiercely through the flaming girdle, and a gaudy hookah cuddled in the crook of her arm, while the bristling whiskers and encarmined cheeks and nose of the weather-beaten seafarer proclaimed a strong masculine personality in striking contrast to the pretty young men Turks and Persians that tittered in feminine fashion all about her.