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She had Elinor in her arms, to everyone's great amazement, and Elinor, far from being reluctant, was as responsive as though Miss Jinny were her own mother.,

Patricia gave an exclamation. "I believe I've seen her!" she cried. "She wears a long cloak and a hat with a big black plume, doesn't she? We noticed her at lunch and wondered what was the matter with her.",

"What was it like?" eagerly demanded Patricia. "It doesn't matter now, you know, if you tell. We won't tell, and it's too late, anyway, to make any difference.",

The major hurried off, leaving Isabella alone in the summer-house. He walked on slowly, notwithstanding that it was past the hour he had appointed to meet Arkel and Etwald. His thoughts were busy with what Isabella had said concerning David's knowledge of the trick.

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"Oh, Miss Pat!" she cried in an ecstasy. "I've made good, and I can write to Bruce and tell him!",

Counsel for the prosecution accepted the correction of his learned friend, and withdrew the obnoxious word crime--if not altogether, at all events for the time being. He would resume his explanation of the case. Major Jen, the adopted father of the deceased, possessed a barbaric curiosity called by civilized people the devil-stick; by barbarians the wand of sleep. This he had obtained from Ashantee, where it was used to kill people inimical to the king by the injection of poison. There was no need to describe the devil-stick, as it was on the table, and would be shown to the jury. This devil-stick--,

"Isn't she the good old sport?" cried Griffin, in lively admiration. "She'll do the work of a half dozen niminy-piminy dolls like Leighton. Margaret Howes and your humble servant will back her up, too, and that committee will sit up and take notice before it's a week older, or my name's not Virginia Althea Frigilla Griffin—just like that.",

"Well, be that as it may, they are the blessed members of the women tribe," she answered, looking at me sharply. "Now I have often told Mr. Johnson——" but here we were interrupted in what might have been the rehearsal of a glorious scrap by the appearance of Aunt Bettie Pollard, and with her came a long, tall, lovely vision of a woman in the most wonderful close clingy dress and hat that you wanted to eat the minute you saw it. I hated her instantly with the most intense adoration that made me want to lie down at her feet, and also made me feel as though I had gained all the more than twenty pounds that I have slaved off me and doubled them on again. I would have liked to lead her that minute into Dr. John's office and just to have looked at him and said one word—"Scarlet-runner!" Aunt Betty introduced her as Miss Clinton from London.