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Major Jen worked hard to procure evidence against the prisoner, and David Sarby worked just as hard to obtain materials for the defense. The attitude taken up by the young barrister astonished everybody and was universally condemned. That he--who might almost be called the brother of the dead man--should defend the assassin of such brother was almost incredible of belief. People were astonished and angered by the very idea, and when that idea became known to be an actual fact the conduct of David was disapproved of on every side. Only one man said nothing, and that man was the very person who had the best right to speak. While all talked, Major Jen remained silent. His reticence on the subject caused almost as much scandal as David's inexplicable conduct.,

The question he could not answer, so dismissing it from his memory, he retired to the smoking-room with a pipe and a novel. When Jen and David returned he intended to question both, and, if possible, get to the bottom of these thickening mysteries.,

"By the evidence of the tramp Battersea.",

"I know it," said Elinor, sinking wearily into a chair. "I've tried to keep up with you all at home here, and do my work, too, but it hasn't worked. I believe I'll stay home today and take a real holiday."

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As she spoke a gong sounded from beyond the closed door of a nearby class room; there was sound of movement and subdued voices, then the door swung grudgingly and a number of students of various ages with smudged hands and soiled aprons came straggling out into the dim corridor, laden with canvases and drawings to be stowed in the long line of lockers that stretched on either side of the hallway.,

The taxi stopped with a bump at the curb and Patricia sprang out, paid the man and joined Miss Jinny on the sidewalk before the door had opened to admit the little worn trunk that the driver shouldered with such ease.,

"I would tell you if I could," said David again, but in rather a sullen manner; "but I have reasons, strong reasons, for not doing so. Later on--" he paused nervously.,

"I can't help it," I gulped in my sleeve. "I did use to like Alfred Bennett. My heart almost broke when he went away. I used to be beautiful and slim, and now I feel as if my own fat ghost has come to haunt me all my life. I am so ashamed! If a woman can't cry over her own dead beauty, what can she cry over?" By this time I was really crying.