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"Precisely," assented Jen, eagerly. "Therefore your mother--","No, no, no! I would rather die. I love Maurice.","Am I asked?" demanded Patricia with eager eyes.,"Dinner, one small lean chop, slice of toast, spinach or lettuce salad. No dessert or sweet." My poultry-yard is full of fat little chickens, and I wish I were a sheep if I have to eat lettuce and spinach for grass. At least I'd have more than one chop inside me then.,"The watchers of the dead!" echoed Mrs. Dallas, with a start.,Sisters of the glow-worm dim,,Judith gulped the last mouthful and flung down her napkin.,"Well, Dido didn't know that; she was never in this room.","Why not?" returned Patricia, her fingers busy with Sinbad's girdle. "You can't do two things at once, to do them well. I'm commonplace enough to realize that, but you geniuses go on trying to tear yourselves into little pieces, and then howl because you aren't making masterpieces in every department.","Well, Dido, we shall see. And now--",Sisters of the glow-worm dim,,Elinor hesitated. "I don't know," she replied slowly, measuring her words. "I can't put my finger on it, but she doesn't seem the same to me as she did at first. She isn't jealous of my poor work, of course, but I can feel a something—a wall or barrier—that she raises up between us whenever my work is spoken of. I felt it when we talked about the subject of the prize designs, and I felt it today more clearly than ever. We can't be friends any more as we were, I'm afraid. Something has come between us. 'The little rift within the lute,'" she quoted sorrowfully..