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"Not at all," rejoined Jen, coldly. "I can understand her reason for telling the lie. She wanted to shield--",

"Isabella, do not be rude!" cried Mrs. Dallas, who had overheard this passage at arms; whereupon the girl, with a defiant glance at her tormentor, left the room.,

Patricia caught the look, and was instantly both astonished and indignant.,

"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.

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"Bah! you black parrot!" muttered Maurice scornfully and turned upon his heel. As he vanished down the walk Dido clapped her hands together with great satisfaction and began to sing in low tones. Her song was barbaric in words and strange beyond all telling in the music. It rose and fell, and moaned and drawled, in a curiously painful manner. In the drawing-room Mrs. Dallas had risen to her feet at the first deep contralto note, and now stood rocking herself to and fro with an expression of alarm on her face. Isabella was terrified in her turn by Dido's song and her mother's strange conduct, though by this time she should have been used to these eccentricities.,

But as cruel as freezing is, it doesn't compare to the tortures of being melted. Jane administers it to me, and her faithful heart is so wrung with compassion that she perspires almost as much as I do. She wrings a linen sheet out in a cauldron of hot water and shrouds me in it—and then more and more blanket windings envelop me until I am like the mummy of some Egyptian giantess.,

"Perhaps it took hard rubs to bring it out," said Miss Jinny, pouring another cup for Mr. Spicer. "We poor human critters are like that sometimes. Good times spoil us. Maybe she's had it too easy, poor girl.",

"Oh, I wouldn't put it that way," cried Judith, scandalized. "I'd just sort of hint around gently. Maybe they dug it up long ago."