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"No, doctor! I am too weary to frame theories at this hour of the night. But, no doubt, Mr. Inspector yonder, can--" "However, Mr. Alymer did not take my warning and leave off courting Miss Dallas. On the contrary, he announced his engagement, and carried off the young lady in triumph. As you may guess, from what I have said before, I doomed him from that hour. I made Dido hypnotize Mrs. Dallas in order to have the devil-stick stolen. If you remember, major, I offered to buy it, but as you refused, I had to have it stolen. In order to compromise the mother, I arranged that she should steal it. She did, and without having the slightest notion that she was committing the crime. When Dido obtained the devil-stick she filled it with the poison. Then she--by my directions--hypnotized Miss Dallas, put the devil-stick into her hand, and sent her forth to kill Mr. Alymer. But I should not say kill--as you know the devil-stick cannot kill--let us say, to cast Mr. Alymer into a trance. By this ingenious plot--you must admit, major, that it is ingenious--I got rid of the lover, and obtained a hold over mother and daughter. quoted Maurice, with a laugh. "No doubt the devil-stick can still do harm. Ugh! What a gruesome idea. I'd remove it from so conspicuous a position if I were you, Uncle Jen; someone might come to grief over it.".

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As she went out of the gate the postman came in, and at the sight of another letter my heart slunk off into my slippers, and my brain seemed about to back up in a corner and refuse to work. In a flash it came to me that men oughtn't to write letters to women very much—they really don't plough deep enough, they just irritate the top soil. I took this missive from Alfred, counted all the fifteen pages, put it out of sight under a book, looked out of the window and saw Mr. Johnson shooed off down the street by Mrs. Johnson; saw the doctor's car go chugging hurriedly in the garage, and then my spirit turned itself to the wall and refused to be comforted. I tried my best, but failed to respond to my own remonstrances with myself, and tears were slowly gathering in a cloud of gloom when a blue gingham, romper-clad sunbeam burst into the room. "That you must prove," replied Lady Meg, dryly. Patricia sighed and stirred restlessly. "Isn't that like life?" she commented, her face clearing as the thought took hold on her. "We're all hankering after something that we haven't got—or we think we are. Maybe—maybe we'd not like the other thing any better if we did get it, though one's own things always seem awfully commonplace, don't they?" "De--de--dead--dead!" she stammered, shrinking back..