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"Mrs. Dallas stole the devil-stick," resumed Jen, imperturbably, "and gave it to Dido, who, by your directions, filled it with fresh poison. Dido gave the newly-prepared weapon of death to you, and with it you killed my poor boy at the very gates of the girl he loved.","What is it?",Patricia stamped her foot in vexation. "What do you mean?" she cried. "You're the most exasperating——","Why Mrs. Dallas wants Isabella to marry David." Not another word would the major say on the subject at that moment, so Maurice was forced to seek his room in a very unsatisfied frame of mind. However, as he thought, here was one mystery about to be explained, and that was a comfort. As Jen prophesied, David did not return to dinner, and Maurice had a tête-à-tête with his guardian. But they talked of indifferent things, and it was not until they were once more in the smoking-room with cigars and coffee that the major consented to speak on the subject of Mrs. Dallas' strange conduct.,Patricia drew in her breath with a gasp. She put her hand on the knob of the door and noiselessly turned it.,The negress raised her wild eyes slowly to the face of her mistress. What she saw therein evidently determined her reply. Without a word she bent her head.,So Elinor went into the sitting-room where the telephone was, and in the intervals of their rather forced conversation, they could hear scraps of her kind questions and gentle answers. When she returned to the studio, her face was glowing.,Miss Jinny nodded. "She'd work her to death, anyway," she agreed. "She's mighty inhuman under her soft outside. Her help don't hear much of her purry ways, I can tell you. That's why they're always leaving. No, Mrs. Hand won't do." She sighed in perplexity. "I wish we were well enough off to keep her ourselves. I've taken a liking to her quiet ways, and I'd enjoy having her about, I'm sure. Most country girls are so loud and clumping that I've never wanted help before, but she's mighty different.","I know Tom better than I do you," I answered as she fled with the money in her hand. I looked at Ruth Clinton and we both laughed. It is true that a broader sympathy is one of the by-products of sorrow, and a week ago I might have resented Pet to a marked degree instead of giving her the money and a blessing.,"Pooh," said Patricia, turning from her own reflection with a gay laugh. "You don't need to try. I do worship beauty, and I always shall. I like to laugh and sing and be happy. I like blue skies because God made them that way. And I don't think a pink rose is wickeder for being pink than if it were grubby gray. I think being happy is the serious business of life—when you take other people in with you—and I reckon God thinks so too.",He bowed, and without offering his hand--which it is very probable Major Jen would have refused to take--he left the room. When the door closed the older man sank into a chair and passed his hand across a brow moist with perspiration.,"Dido!".