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"I shall take no steps concerning her at present," said Jen, glancing at his watch, "especially as there is no fear of her leaving the neighborhood.",

"God forbid that my heart should harbor so ill a thought," cried Jen, with natural horror. "But I tell you what, David. We must sift this affair to the bottom. Maurice is dead, his assassin is at large, so we must catch him.",

"I can't tell you.",

Elinor hesitated. "I don't know," she replied slowly, measuring her words. "I can't put my finger on it, but she doesn't seem the same to me as she did at first. She isn't jealous of my poor work, of course, but I can feel a something—a wall or barrier—that she raises up between us whenever my work is spoken of. I felt it when we talked about the subject of the prize designs, and I felt it today more clearly than ever. We can't be friends any more as we were, I'm afraid. Something has come between us. 'The little rift within the lute,'" she quoted sorrowfully.

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"Pooh! they're as stupid as the rest," thought Patricia contemptuously, and she let her attention wander, studying the various ghosts, making mental notes as to height and size for future reference.,

Crowds of people came from all parts of the country to view the scene of the crime, and, if possible, to gain a glimpse of Jen and David, who as relatives--as it might be said--of the deceased were notorious for the time being; but thanks to the presence of the police and the vigilance of Jaggard, the morbid crowd of sight-seers were unable to gratify their curiosity. The two men remained in seclusion, and saw no one save Dr. Etwald. A sympathetic message arrived from Mrs. Dallas, which, considering the way she had behaved toward Maurice, the major regarded as a gratuitous insult.,

"Nor will you--after midday to-morrow. But you will regret if you do not grant me this interview.",

Then just as I had got the first plan well going and was deciding whether to wear the mauve crêpe de Chine or the white chiffon with the rosebud embroidery as a first dose for my friends, a sweetness came in through my window that took my breath away, and I lay still with my hand over my heart and listened. It was Billy singing right under my window, and I've never heard him do it before in all his five years. It was the dearest old-fashioned tune ever written, and Billy sang the words as distinctly as if he had been a boy chorister doing a difficult recitative. My heart beat so it shook the lace on my breast, like a breeze from heaven, as he took the high note and then let it go on the last few words.