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"It's my sketch," admitted Elinor in a low tone. "I missed it the next day, but I thought Miss Pat had dropped it when she brought my things home to me. My study was almost done, and I forgot all about it after that.","Oh!" said Maurice, his thoughts flying back to the mysterious influence which he had seen Etwald exercise over Dido. "And what was the doctor saying?",CHAPTER XXIII. THE RESULT OF THE TRIAL.,Yes, the word "trousseau" ought to have a definite surname after it always, and that's why my loyalty dragged poor Mr. Carter out into the light of my conscience. The thinking of him had a strange effect on me. I had laid out the dream in dark grey-blue cloth, tailored almost beyond endurance, to wear in the train going home, and had thrown the old black silk bag across the chair to give to the hotel maid, but the decision of the session between conscience and loyalty made me pack the precious blue wonder and put on once more the black rags of remembrance in a kind of panic of respect.,And it was well I did come to save Ruth Clinton from a dancing death, for she is as light as a feather and sails on the air like thistle-down. I felt sorry for Tom, for when he was with me he could see her, and when he was with her I pouted at him, even over Judge Wade's arm. I verily believe it was from being really jealous that he asked little Pet Buford to dance with him—by mistake as it were.,A good-natured, whole-some looking young man in the clothes of a calendar, with a patch on his right eye, laid aside his long-necked lute and rose with a bow.,Suddenly he woke with a start. Somebody was rapping gently on the shutters of the middle window. Glancing at the clock, Jen saw that it was three in the morning, and wondering who could be outside at so untimely an hour, he rose to open the window. With care, begotten by old experience, he picked up his revolver and held it ready while unbolting the window shutters. When they were thrown open he saw a white figure with outstretched hands standing before the window.,Miss Jinny had a queer look, Patricia thought, as she turned hurriedly away with a murmured excuse about the tea table.,"You did wound your head, Jaggard; and after that fall you remembered no more?","Griffin says not to wait—she's got to finish stretching a canvas," Margaret Howes told them, but Patricia and Judith would not hear to beginning the little feast without the staunch and genial Griffin.,Dido shrugged her shoulders.,"Of course he does," cried Jen, wrathfully..