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"Oh, Patricia!" she cried in Patricia's ear, but the words died into the tempest. "I did, sir." "What's it to be?" asked Elinor, releasing her and beginning to braid her dark hair..
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"Ah!" replied Jen, in a meaning tone. "Tell me that and I'll have the assassin of our dear Maurice within the walls of Deanminster jail before the year is twenty-four hours older." Toward the morning Jen slept for an hour or so, and when he rose and had taken his bath he felt much refreshed, and ready to face Etwald at this final interview. At eleven o'clock Mrs. Dallas arrived with Isabella, the latter looking wan and ill. Even had the major not promised to be silent, he could not have brought himself to tell the poor girl the truth at that moment. After all, she was perfectly innocent, and had committed the crime unwittingly. Dido was the culprit, not Isabella; and the major felt a profound pity for the miserable girl, who had been made a tool of by the unscrupulous negress and the evil-minded Etwald. "For goodness' sake, don't be jumping into admirations wholesale, Miss Pat, darling," said Elinor, gently pulling Patricia's arm through hers as they passed into the narrow entrance to the dressing room. "Don't rush at it so, ducky. You can't know the right people at once, and it saves a lot of bother not to get too familiar with the wrong ones." On arriving at "The Wigwam," Jen presented his card, and was shown into the drawing-room, there to wait the arrival of Mrs. Dallas. Although it was nearly eleven o'clock the indolent Creole was not yet out of bed, but on hearing that the major had called to see her, she sent Dido to inform him that she would shortly accord him an interview. The negress, as gloomy and sullen as ever, delivered this message with folded arms and bent head. Then, without even a look at him, she turned to leave the room, when Jen placed himself between her and the door..
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