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"Both of them will refuse to meet you. You saw Mrs. Dallas to-day, how she behaved.",

Then I refused to let Tom come inside the gate, and he went down the street whistling, only when he got to the purple lilac he turned and kissed his hand to me. That, Mrs. Johnson just couldn't stand, and she came across the street immediately and called me back to the gate.,

"I didn't ring," she explained, standing on the little blue rug by the umbrella stand, and jabbing her dripping umbrella into the stand. "The hall door was open and I came right in." She hesitated, and then rushed on, directing most of her speech to Elinor. "Geraldine Leighton is dying, they say, and I thought we might each send a little note to Doris—she's awfully alone, now that Mrs. Leighton is ill, you know. It mightn't help her much, but it would show her that we——",

The major was rather inclined to agree with David that it would be difficult to learn anything of material value from Isabella. On the night she had visited the house at three o'clock in the morning her brain had been unsettled for the time being by the terrible death which had overtaken her lover, and she had been thrown into a frenzy by the mysterious theft of his body. The question which the major wished answered was, whether she had been sufficiently herself to remember the events of that night, and especially those which had taken place prior to her escape from The Wigwam. But the only way to decide this doubt was to see the girl personally, and Major Jen feared lest he should find Mrs. Dallas and Dido obstacles to his accomplishment of this object.

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"I do hope they like it and won't be too hard on me," she thought, as she hastened on. "It took a lot of trouble to make all the little figures, but if they'll only let me off from speechifying, I'll feel it was worth it.",

"I am disgusted with her, too," said Mrs. Dallas, indorsing the major's exclamation.,

Elinor smiled and her shining eyes traveled down the wide dim corridor with its rows of battered gray lockers, past the confusion of chairs and easels that clustered around the big screen of the composition room, straight into the farthest nook of the great bare work rooms beyond, where an array of heroic-sized white casts loomed conspicuous in the cold north light above the clutter of easels, stools and drawing-boards that encompassed the silent, intent workers.,

"Yes, it's going some," returned Griffin nonchalantly, as she started up the stair again, dragging the board after her. "The March Hare originated it back in the dark ages, and we've been doing it off and on—when the authorities don't get on to us."